[ He knows the one, though he isn't sure he would describe things the same way that Midnight does. Maybe something more along the lines of the dangerous teetering the Doctor does when they inevitably continue to take on more work than they should, and seem overly determined to prove themselves despite the fact that the physical condition of the operators around them definitely outpaces their own.
With some exceptions made for those deep within the throes of Oripathy.
Some people could actually afford to put on rose tinted glasses every once in a while, and Broca is one of those people. Though maybe being cynical is needed right now to help out this clearly drunk man. ]
Mmm... It's been the same amount of time for me.
[ Terse, to the point, lacking the charm of reminiscing. ]
How much did you drink before I showed up?
[ And a real buzzkill on top of everything else. Come on, Broca, chill a bit! ]
[ Well... one makes their choices, and Midnight isn't the sort to judge what the Doctor does. Stones in glass houses.
A little bit of sobriety is needed here either way. Midnight props his head on his hand, hums in deep thought. ]
... I think I might have... One drink token left. A few people have been kind enough to share their drinks, so I've tasted about everything here. Very kind of them. If you need a recommendation, look no farther, Operator... I am inundated with information.
[ Whether or not Midnight could make recommendations that would suit Broca's tastes or not seems somewhat irrelevant when Broca's quickly deciding that despite his original plans, he needs to stay sober for the rest of the night.
It's not the first time he's been on drunk babysitter duty (thanks for being a messy drunk, Chiave), though these are far from the ideal circumstances to have to do it. ]
I'm good, but you should have food too.
[ It won't really sober him up at this point, but maybe it'll give him something to focus on that won't lead to trouble. They're at the bar rather than at a table, but Broca will still cast about for a menu that has anything other than just alcohol on it. ]
All these shoulds and you musts... Are you squad leader for this operation? I've been wondering, you know, about chain of command when one leaves for a mission without a briefing session... I'm sure Sergeant Dobermann drilled that protocol into my head, and it's in there somewhere...
[ Midnight slowly shakes his head. It spins... Ooh, if only Spot was here to carry him home. Dear Spot. ]
Have you had food yet, then? Been settling in all right?
[ God, Broca sure as hell hopes not. Being a senior operator doesn't mean he wants to take responsibility for the ramshackle assortment of Rhodes Island employees that ended up here.
All he wants to do right now is make this drunk eat some food and go to bed. Though it seems like it's not going to be a nice easy case of plying Midnight with enough food to make him tired, and hauling him off to one of the horrendous little rooms they got. ]
No.
[ Well... maybe. By the standards this place has laid out, he's been settling in very well, but he doesn't really want to talk about that. So instead he opts to aggressively and tactless sidestep the attempts at small talk in order to grab a menu, and at least look at the options for bar snacks. ]
[ Midnight is waaay too drunk to catch onto the neat little sidesteps, so he just takes the last idea Broca leaves him and runs with it. He puts his head on the counter, thinks for a moment, then scoots a little closer, peering as though he can sense the amount of sustenance his fellow operator has consumed through his beer goggles alone. ]
[ Focusing on food seems like a safe enough topic instead of the one that Midnight wanted to drunkenly meander then down instead, so fine... if he wants to ask questions, then Broca is happy to answer these specific ones instead. ]
I'll eat too.
[ It'll be harder to do much talking if they're both chewing anyway. As Midnight slides closer to him, Broca slides the menu Midnight's way as a buffer. ]
You can pick.
[ That might be a mistake if he tries to order more drinks, but hopefully... not? ]
[ That gets a strange sideways glance from Broca. It's true that he does, but who in the world doesn't like food? Even the pickiest eaters at least like some foods.
Though it doesn't take a picky eater to find the idea of eating Aegir or Liberi to be unpleasant, Broca squints at the menu in alarm, reading the listed items, and the small descriptions under them. ]
[ ... There's really only one way to find out. Midnight stares blankly at the menu, but eventually screws up the last sober cell in his body and waves a waiter over. ]
I'll have the shellbeast, er, crab, please.
[ ... He is sincerely hoping no one is resorting to cannibalism here. He's a vampire, not a Nachzehrer... ]
[ It would certainly put an uncomfortable spin on this already questionable hotel, though as he glances around at the table of the other patrons eating, it seems like the meat on people's plate seems small enough he can't imagine it coming from a full grown person.
They're probably safe. ]
Two.
[ He taps the crab on the menu for clarity, figuring it's the easiest thing to do right now.
The waitstaff also doesn't show signs of being disturbed by their choice either, though someone who worked in a cannibalistic restaurant likely wouldn't, would they? ]
[ The food comes quickly, in the same portions as everyone else's food... And it certainly does not look like parts that might be home on Miss Akafuyu, so Midnight breathes a drunken sigh of relief, snags a pair of chopsticks, and tries not to faceplant drunkenly into his food. ]
One mystery solved, several more questions to be answered.
[ Midnight looks around... ]
Humans do look a bit different around here, at that. On the whole, at least. Perhaps that's a part of it.
[ The attempts being made not to completely drift off into his plate is appreciated. Broca will be picking at his own food with a nice, sober amount of grace.
Or at least as much grace as someone who doesn't regularly use chopsticks can manage. It's not his first time or anything, Rhodes Island is a hodgepodge of operators from all over the place, but he's definitely more comfortable with a fork. ]
Mm. I noticed that. Not a lot of horns, fur or feathers around here.
[ And he doubts that the majority of people are aegirs with more subtle traits the way some tend to have. Hell, even Midnight, who has none of the traits he just listed, at least still has some pointy ears, and even that seems a rare find around this hotel. ]
[ Midnight hums in acknowledgment, eyes raking over the other patrons. They're still all terribly attractive, of course... It just feels a bit off. Culture shock, in its own way.
Speaking of cultures clashing... Midnight is pretty wasted, but not so much that he's forgotten how to use a pair of chopsticks. You can take the boy out of Higashi, et al.
So, of course, Midnight decides to take it upon himself, pick a bit of crab from his meal, and poke it directly in front of his fellow operator's mouth. (Sorry...) ]
Took me a moment to figure out that was what was wrong... Say ah, Operator.
[ They are terribly attractive, aren't they? It's something that Broca had been noting the more people he met with wry humor given the nature of the game they were meant to be playing.
Everyone being hot (Midnight not excluded) doesn't make Broca any more willing to be easy to deal with for them all. He actually leans back as Midnight tries to feed him like he's a child, the tip of his tail flicking rapidly as he looks at the other man like he's lost his mind. ]
I can feed myself.
[ Despite what his mild struggle would otherwise suggest. ]
But I am much better at chopsticks than you are. It is my sword... sworn duty to enjoy my life and practice my art, respected by all men and in all times.
[ Why is Rhodes Island's slogan relevant here? Midnight grins like he is Hippocrates himself and it took drink for him to make this stunning realization. ]
'S the motto, y'know. I had to memorize it to pass my exam battery. And I would very much enjoy my life if you enjoyed a bit of this shellbeast, Operator...
[ Poke, poke. That being said, he is about as pliant as a sleepy baby and would probably just need to have to be told to just focus on eating, but it's the thought that counts. Or the lack of thought, in this case. ]
[ The thought would count a lot more if he wasn't trying to shove food into Broca's face the way he is. Are people glancing over? Probably, which just has Broca sighing heavier as he wraps his fingers around Midnight's wrist, and tries to redirect his hands back towards Midnight's own face. ]
I enjoy feeding myself. Eat your shellbeast.
[ This is worse mothering than what Aosta does to him... seriously... ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Yeah, it really went wild, huh?
With some exceptions made for those deep within the throes of Oripathy.
Some people could actually afford to put on rose tinted glasses every once in a while, and Broca is one of those people. Though maybe being cynical is needed right now to help out this clearly drunk man. ]
Mmm... It's been the same amount of time for me.
[ Terse, to the point, lacking the charm of reminiscing. ]
How much did you drink before I showed up?
[ And a real buzzkill on top of everything else. Come on, Broca, chill a bit! ]
may the odds be ever in your favor 🫡
A little bit of sobriety is needed here either way. Midnight props his head on his hand, hums in deep thought. ]
... I think I might have... One drink token left. A few people have been kind enough to share their drinks, so I've tasted about everything here. Very kind of them. If you need a recommendation, look no farther, Operator... I am inundated with information.
[ And liquor. So much liquor. ]
Yours as well!
It's not the first time he's been on drunk babysitter duty (thanks for being a messy drunk, Chiave), though these are far from the ideal circumstances to have to do it. ]
I'm good, but you should have food too.
[ It won't really sober him up at this point, but maybe it'll give him something to focus on that won't lead to trouble. They're at the bar rather than at a table, but Broca will still cast about for a menu that has anything other than just alcohol on it. ]
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[ Midnight slowly shakes his head. It spins... Ooh, if only Spot was here to carry him home. Dear Spot. ]
Have you had food yet, then? Been settling in all right?
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All he wants to do right now is make this drunk eat some food and go to bed. Though it seems like it's not going to be a nice easy case of plying Midnight with enough food to make him tired, and hauling him off to one of the horrendous little rooms they got. ]
No.
[ Well... maybe. By the standards this place has laid out, he's been settling in very well, but he doesn't really want to talk about that. So instead he opts to aggressively and tactless sidestep the attempts at small talk in order to grab a menu, and at least look at the options for bar snacks. ]
We're getting you food.
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[ Midnight is waaay too drunk to catch onto the neat little sidesteps, so he just takes the last idea Broca leaves him and runs with it. He puts his head on the counter, thinks for a moment, then scoots a little closer, peering as though he can sense the amount of sustenance his fellow operator has consumed through his beer goggles alone. ]
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I'll eat too.
[ It'll be harder to do much talking if they're both chewing anyway. As Midnight slides closer to him, Broca slides the menu Midnight's way as a buffer. ]
You can pick.
[ That might be a mistake if he tries to order more drinks, but hopefully... not? ]
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[ Midnight squints, raises his head and looks hard at that big, meaty menu... and squints... and squints...? ]
Why are they serving people on this menu?
[ Midnight pokes at the name. ]
See there. Crab, chicken, carp. That's... that's Ægir. Except for chicken, that's Liberi.
[ ... Massaging his very soggy brain cell... ]
You think they mean finbeast? Shellbeast?
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Though it doesn't take a picky eater to find the idea of eating Aegir or Liberi to be unpleasant, Broca squints at the menu in alarm, reading the listed items, and the small descriptions under them. ]
And fowlbeast... must be.
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I'll have the shellbeast, er, crab, please.
[ ... He is sincerely hoping no one is resorting to cannibalism here. He's a vampire, not a Nachzehrer... ]
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They're probably safe. ]
Two.
[ He taps the crab on the menu for clarity, figuring it's the easiest thing to do right now.
The waitstaff also doesn't show signs of being disturbed by their choice either, though someone who worked in a cannibalistic restaurant likely wouldn't, would they? ]
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One mystery solved, several more questions to be answered.
[ Midnight looks around... ]
Humans do look a bit different around here, at that. On the whole, at least. Perhaps that's a part of it.
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Or at least as much grace as someone who doesn't regularly use chopsticks can manage. It's not his first time or anything, Rhodes Island is a hodgepodge of operators from all over the place, but he's definitely more comfortable with a fork. ]
Mm. I noticed that. Not a lot of horns, fur or feathers around here.
[ And he doubts that the majority of people are aegirs with more subtle traits the way some tend to have. Hell, even Midnight, who has none of the traits he just listed, at least still has some pointy ears, and even that seems a rare find around this hotel. ]
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Speaking of cultures clashing... Midnight is pretty wasted, but not so much that he's forgotten how to use a pair of chopsticks. You can take the boy out of Higashi, et al.
So, of course, Midnight decides to take it upon himself, pick a bit of crab from his meal, and poke it directly in front of his fellow operator's mouth. (Sorry...) ]
Took me a moment to figure out that was what was wrong... Say ah, Operator.
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Everyone being hot (Midnight not excluded) doesn't make Broca any more willing to be easy to deal with for them all. He actually leans back as Midnight tries to feed him like he's a child, the tip of his tail flicking rapidly as he looks at the other man like he's lost his mind. ]
I can feed myself.
[ Despite what his mild struggle would otherwise suggest. ]
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[ Why is Rhodes Island's slogan relevant here? Midnight grins like he is Hippocrates himself and it took drink for him to make this stunning realization. ]
'S the motto, y'know. I had to memorize it to pass my exam battery. And I would very much enjoy my life if you enjoyed a bit of this shellbeast, Operator...
[ Poke, poke. That being said, he is about as pliant as a sleepy baby and would probably just need to have to be told to just focus on eating, but it's the thought that counts. Or the lack of thought, in this case. ]
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I enjoy feeding myself. Eat your shellbeast.
[ This is worse mothering than what Aosta does to him... seriously... ]