Anything you like besides blood, Mr. Cannibal? Before I go making you something not to your taste.
[ Though she's confident anything she makes will be approved of. She didn't survive and is highly ranking in the top most competitive culinary school in her world and probably most worlds for nothing. ]
Though I really should call you by a real name. Oh, and what do you look like? I'm not letting some random guy into my restaurant before we're open. [ Except to prove a point about taste, apparently. ]
[ She's pouting again. Whats the point of all these losers who don't pay attention to her even if she's a celebrity? Oh well. ]
It's in Nova City. [ And she gives directions. ] Come in about 40 minutes. I need to get an ingredient or two from the store for what I'm going to make you.
Looks like naming isn't a career you should get into either!
[ She laughs a little, but there's a covered platter on the only table that's set up. They're not open yet, though there are people around in the kitchens preparing. Alice likes to experiment a lot so it isn't unusual for her to do things like this and get taste testers. ]
Come take a seat.
[ IF he complies, she'll lift the lid off once he's seated, allowing a billow of what looks like fog to spill out over the table. It doesn't feel overly warm or cool, but rather room temperature. When it clears out, there's a bowl of some kind of soup on a square platter that appears to have a blood-stained hand print smeared across it. The hand-print is just blood orange-pomegranate sauce if he tastes it, though it looks very much like fresh blood. The soup itself is a blood orange and blackberry soup, with small white spheres at the bottom- half spherical white chocolate and half are a spherical white umami-filled sauce. They seem to burst on the tongue so you never know when you're going to get a mouth full of salty or sweet. It's an enemy of those who want to keep their figure, to be sure. Beside it, there's a mysterious yellow foamy drink. Alice holds the dish off to the side, looking at him expectantly. ]
But there's free food to partake of, made just for him after he more or less openly harrassed her (how did that somehow pan out in his favor??), so he'll set himself down in front of the covered dish, fingertips drumming absently against the tabletop as she reveals--
he has no idea what he's looking at.
He glances from the food to the drink, eyes narrowed curiously as he leans in to sniff at it. It smells pretty good, as unfamiliar as the scent may be. He's not particularly accustomed to fine dining, unsurprisingly, though even then he's pretty sure things like this don't usually have murder scene-esque decor. ]
... You slapped all this together in forty minutes?
I didn't slap it together! I'm am expert in the sort of techniques used to make this dish. There aren't many truly complicated steps to this one, though if i had more time the visuals would be more outstanding.
[ but what are you going to do. If you're working at a restaurant you don't have 3 hours to make a dish unless you do intensive prep work so she is used to working fast. Having specialized equipment really helps.
That said if she actually believed he was a murderer she probably wouldn't have gone with the blood jokes. ]
[ He glances at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the dish, lifting a spoonful of the soup to examine it at eye-level. If nothing else, she's certainly managed to capture his attention. ]
... Well, here goes nothing.
[ He steels himself for whatever the hell this experience is going to be, and passes the spoon between his lips. ]
Oh, no, it's really good. Again, Mercury is not a connoisseur of fine dining, but this is probably the single best meal he's ever tasted. He didn't even know food could do this to him, eyes widening, muscles tensing. He wants, desperately, to take another bite as quickly as possible - he doesn't have the palette to recognize the skill that went into making this dish, but he knows it's really good what the hell-- ]
Which means after a moment he pulls the spoon back out from his mouth, taking a careful breath to ensure that his voice will be even when he speaks (a blade to the throat wouldn't shake his nerves, but orange pomegranate somehow rattled him). ]
You're seeing things. Maybe you inhaled too many fumes in the kitchen.
[ He's quick to reach for that drink, though, figuring some liquid refreshment will help to collect himself. He lifts the glass to his lips to take a sip, and
for a moment, he would swear he heard angels
He rears his head back, staring from the drink, to Alice, to the food, to Alice, back to the drink...
[ And it is. She seems 100% confident in this. She folds her hands behind her back, leaning in with a proud smile. ]
I don't use drugs in my food. The closest thing is miracle berries, but those aren't in this particular drink. I told you, I made exactly what you asked for.
[ He's quiet for a moment longer (it's a feat to silence him, so congratulations), tapping a finger against the glass lightly. He doesn't want to give her the pleasure of a compliment, but...
He's hungry. And it's really freaking good.
So he begrudgingly grabs the spoon to start eating again, refusing to say anything nice at all. It's not much of a victory, but it'll have to do. ]
[ Ha. Eating it up like that and not even being able to offer an insult or joke despite what she's gathered about him? She's going to look proud of such a result either way, then rather coolly sit down across from him, her chin in her palms, propped up by her elbows. She's just smiling confidently. ]
[ It's almost funny, how he feels so frustrated because the food is so good. It would have been delightful to take a bite and then toss the dish aside, make a mess for her staff to clean up, but he honestly doesn't want to waste any of it.
This food is delicious, and that sucks.
But he eventually makes himself stop, about halfway through the bowl, dropping the spoon with a clatter off to the side of the plate. ]
Yeah, you're going to have to get a doggy bag for this. I need to get it tested.
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voice;
...
Are we talking about the same kind of cooking, or did this conversation take a turn somewhere?
voice;
voice;
what the fuck ]
The only samples I care for are the free kind.
voice;
[ There's an obvious pout in her voice. ]
voice;
[ there's practically slime in his ]
voice;
[ Though she's confident anything she makes will be approved of. She didn't survive and is highly ranking in the top most competitive culinary school in her world
and probably most worldsfor nothing. ]Though I really should call you by a real name. Oh, and what do you look like? I'm not letting some random guy into my restaurant before we're open. [ Except to prove a point about taste, apparently. ]
voice -> video
[ There's a moment's pause before the feed switches to video, revealing Mercury in all his smug assholery. ]
If you're so desperate to get on a first-name basis, it's Mercury.
video
video
[ ... is that the truth? Or is he just being a dick?
The answers are out there, somewhere. ]
video
It's in Nova City. [ And she gives directions. ] Come in about 40 minutes. I need to get an ingredient or two from the store for what I'm going to make you.
video
[ An exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes as if this is life's greatest burden. ]
I guess I'll just have to manage somehow. Do I get to know what you're making?
video
[ She just smiles and waves. Look forward to it, buddy boy. BYE. And she's hanging up now. See you in 40 minutes. ]
action forever
He's hungry, okay. He's hungry and a little curious, admittedly, about food that isn't ready-made or something cheap from over a counter. ]
Helloooooo? I'm here for my bloodcorn.
... Egh, that's not a good name for it at all.
ditto
[ She laughs a little, but there's a covered platter on the only table that's set up. They're not open yet, though there are people around in the kitchens preparing. Alice likes to experiment a lot so it isn't unusual for her to do things like this and get taste testers. ]
Come take a seat.
[ IF he complies, she'll lift the lid off once he's seated, allowing a billow of what looks like fog to spill out over the table. It doesn't feel overly warm or cool, but rather room temperature. When it clears out, there's a bowl of some kind of soup on a square platter that appears to have a blood-stained hand print smeared across it. The hand-print is just blood orange-pomegranate sauce if he tastes it, though it looks very much like fresh blood. The soup itself is a blood orange and blackberry soup, with small white spheres at the bottom- half spherical white chocolate and half are a spherical white umami-filled sauce. They seem to burst on the tongue so you never know when you're going to get a mouth full of salty or sweet. It's an enemy of those who want to keep their figure, to be sure. Beside it, there's a mysterious yellow foamy drink. Alice holds the dish off to the side, looking at him expectantly. ]
Precisely what you asked for.
no subject
[ As if he hasn't already.
But there's free food to partake of, made just for him after he more or less openly harrassed her (how did that somehow pan out in his favor??), so he'll set himself down in front of the covered dish, fingertips drumming absently against the tabletop as she reveals--
he has no idea what he's looking at.
He glances from the food to the drink, eyes narrowed curiously as he leans in to sniff at it. It smells pretty good, as unfamiliar as the scent may be. He's not particularly accustomed to fine dining, unsurprisingly, though even then he's pretty sure things like this don't usually have murder scene-esque decor. ]
... You slapped all this together in forty minutes?
no subject
[ but what are you going to do. If you're working at a restaurant you don't have 3 hours to make a dish unless you do intensive prep work so she is used to working fast. Having specialized equipment really helps.
That said if she actually believed he was a murderer she probably wouldn't have gone with the blood jokes. ]
1/3
... Well, here goes nothing.
[ He steels himself for whatever the hell this experience is going to be, and passes the spoon between his lips. ]
2/3
Oh, no.
Oh, no, it's really good. Again, Mercury is not a connoisseur of fine dining, but this is probably the single best meal he's ever tasted. He didn't even know food could do this to him, eyes widening, muscles tensing. He wants, desperately, to take another bite as quickly as possible - he doesn't have the palette to recognize the skill that went into making this dish, but he knows it's really good what the hell-- ]
3/3
Which means after a moment he pulls the spoon back out from his mouth, taking a careful breath to ensure that his voice will be even when he speaks (a blade to the throat wouldn't shake his nerves, but orange pomegranate somehow rattled him). ]
... Mm. Not bad, I guess.
no subject
[ Her fists are balled together. She wants the compliment so bad. Rahhhhggggg!! ]
Try the drink!
no subject
[ He's quick to reach for that drink, though, figuring some liquid refreshment will help to collect himself. He lifts the glass to his lips to take a sip, and
for a moment, he would swear he heard angels
He rears his head back, staring from the drink, to Alice, to the food, to Alice, back to the drink...
He sniffs it, brow furrowed. ]
So this is drugged, right?
no subject
[ And it is. She seems 100% confident in this. She folds her hands behind her back, leaning in with a proud smile. ]
I don't use drugs in my food. The closest thing is miracle berries, but those aren't in this particular drink. I told you, I made exactly what you asked for.
no subject
He's hungry. And it's really freaking good.
So he begrudgingly grabs the spoon to start eating again, refusing to say anything nice at all. It's not much of a victory, but it'll have to do. ]
no subject
no subject
This food is delicious, and that sucks.
But he eventually makes himself stop, about halfway through the bowl, dropping the spoon with a clatter off to the side of the plate. ]
Yeah, you're going to have to get a doggy bag for this. I need to get it tested.
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