driftfleet | 02 // Audio;

Entry tags:

02 // Audio;

Who: Ladon Ceto and you~
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: On whichever ship volunteers!
When: Broadcast is April 14th-ish. Action can happen any time in April afterward.

[ Ladon is still defaulting to audio broadcasts. That's not likely to change any time soon. He starts this one by clearing his throat momentarily. The awkwardness of addressing a large audience never really goes away. ]

Heard that sharin' resources is the norm here, yeah? So I got a proposition.

Tourist ain't got a decent kitchen. But I got a hankerin' for pancakes. So I'm wonderin' if any ship that's got one don't mind lettin' me borrow it. [ There's the crinkling of a bag in the background. Ladon has recently gone shopping and bought all he needs for pancakes... aside from a stove, of course. ] Can pay you back by feedin' you. Only ones I'll burn'll be mine. Also clean up after myself, yeah?

Lemme know.

((OOC: If multiple ships want mobster pancakes, that's cool! He'll make them for whoever asks. He never gets sick them. Really.))

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See you soon.

[She goes out to wait for him. Truth be told she's really curious to see what face goes with the voice.]

[ And eventually Ladon finds his way to where the Red Fish is docked. He strolls on up and is indeed wearing a hat-- his dark gray fedora-- and is carrying a grocery sack full of pancake ingredients. He's opted for the clothing he's purchased here, a black fitted t-shirt and pants that they call "jeans." He feels a bit like a farmer, or a dock worker, but he doesn't have an apron and getting pancake batter on his suit would be less than ideal.

When he spots Syeira, he gives the brim of his hat a tug in greeting. ] Looks like I managed t'not get lost on the way, yeah?

I had every faith in you.

[Smiling she moves to help him if he'll let her.]

Can I help you carry anything?

Ain't much t'carry, yeah? [ Ladon only has two bags on him, and that's simply due to a desire to keep the eggs from getting crushed by the flour and sugar. He does hand her the bag with the carton in it, though, if only for safe keeping. ] Don't go sellin' big bags of nothin' here, though that don't stop 'em chargin' like they're full size, yeah? Guess flour's a luxury in space.

[The eggs are suddenly in more peril than they were when he was holding them. Probably.

No really, she's okay with eggs. She saved a bunch not long ago. It's cool.]

Makes sense, what with the lack of earth and all. Come on in.

[She turns to lead him inside, and to their kitchen. They have a great kitchen on the Red Fish. c:]

So I finally get to see the face that goes with the voice.

[ The kitchen is definitely nicer than what the Tourist has, and for that he's thankful. He had gotten used to the amenities of the little bar he'd taken over in Sacrosanct and before that, the large kitchen at the Golden Apple. Cooking without any utensils and relying on a microwave and protein goo dispenser is not his idea of a good time by any stretch of the phrase.

He smiles a bit sheepishly at her comment, setting his bag of ingredients on the counter. ] M'not too keen on the whole... picture part of these doohickeys we got. M'used to usin' telephones, where s'just your voice, don't gotta worry 'bout lookin' just so, yeah? S'easier if I go usin' it like that.

[ It totally has nothing to do with his strange eyes being more obvious. Or worrying about being caught with his hat off. Nope. ]

[She sets the eggs down safely with the rest of the ingredients.]

I'm not used to communicating any way but face to face. I don't think I've ever even received a letter. So I suppose I've never really worried about looking 'just so'.

Honestly, I don't really see what you'd have to be shy about, but each to their own.

[It's a friendly comment without pressure. From a more aware person it might have been construed as flirting. Syeira is not that aware. This is a total accident.]

Never know who my ugly mug's gonna chase off, yeah? [ Ladon is also not aware, and has a way of being self-deprecating to begin with. He smiles to himself though as he goes about gathering up all the utensils necessary to start the batter-making process. They even have a whisk! He knows the Tourist's kitchen is terrible when he's happy to see a whisk. ]

More of a comfort thing, yeah? Hard 'nough, gettin' used to all the blinkin' and beepin' and seein' space out the window. M'used to havin' my feet on solid ground. And back home, hearin' and smellin' the ocean. Hopin' our next stop ain't so... future-y, yeah? Spend some time on a normal planet for a while...

[ He doesn't have high hopes that will actually happen, but he can dream. ]

It's certainly not sent me running. Quite the opposite.

[She won't let him win at even gentle self-deprecation. It's not in her to do so.

Stepping back she watches him work, without hovering too close.]

What's a normal planet like for you?

[ Ladon's not really sure what "the opposite" means, and he's much too awkward to go about asking. It's very easy for him to just chalk it up to his own social stupidity, and just roll with it, especially when provided with a distracting question to answer instead. ]

The usual, yeah? Land in a few continents, water between. Mountains, forests, plains, beaches. City I live in's on the shore, used to hearin' and smellin' the sea. So long as it's got solid ground, an ocean or two, and some sun, I'm happy. Place I was stuck at before had a planet it went 'round, but the damn place was some sorta wasteland fulla giant people-eatin' worms. Never bothered visitin', didn't seem worth the risk.

You? S'your world like?

[It means she thinks your face is nice, and you're far too hard on yourself sir.]

About the same, if we're going to be excessively general. I was more asking about civilization on your world, since you think this is all very future-y.

[ He is very modest and very, very dumb, Syeira.

He cracks a couple eggs into the beginnings of the batter he's started, then goes about whisking the ingredients together, smiling and shrugging sheepishly. ] Hey, coulda been from some ice planet or place made outta candy, yeah? Never know, folks come from some weird worlds.

People-wise... I mean. Most fellas dress like [ He looks down at his t-shirt and jeans. ] er, like I normally do, suit and coat and hat. M'lookin' more like a dock worker or a farmer now, I guess. Women wear hats, dresses, cut their hair short a lot now. Young folks listen to jazz on the radio or at a club... City I live in's pretty busy, lots of hustle an' bustle. Life's more slow in the country and mountains. There ain't no space ships. We got cars, radios. Movin' pictures are popular, just started havin' ones with voices and everythin'.

Guess since it's what m'used to, s'hard to describe.

There is so much I need you to explain in there, I don't really know where to start. What's jazz? What's a radio? Cars? Moving pictures? Pancakes?

[Just grins and shakes her head. Really, all of it is completely foreign to her.]

Jazz's music. I ain't gonna try describin' it, but if I can find somethin' that'll play it, letcha have a listen. Radios are, er, sorta like those things we talk on, but they only play sound and only go one way. Can listen to music, or a ball game, or weather and news.

[ He goes about setting up the pan on the burner and adding a pat of butter to coat it. As he talks, he pours in a bit of batter. ] Cars're... Whaddatheycallem... Carriages? Without the horse. They run on engines, like the ships here've got, but a helluva lot smaller. Movin' pictures are like... If someone put on a play and used those network devices to show it to a buncha folks.

And as for pancakes-- [ He grins and uses the pan to give the flapjack a good flip. ] --you'll be findin' out 'bout those real soon.

[He's very good at explaining things in terms that make sense to her. For the record, she's imagining actual carriages moving on their own, rather than what cars really are, but it gets the idea across.

Then he flips the pancake and she smiles wide.]

Well now that's just impressive.

[ He grins at the successful flip. ] Still got it. Used t'be a fry cook for a while, yeah? Made these every mornin' for the folks who came by the diner.

Is a diner like an inn?

[She doesn't know what "frying" is but she got cook just fine, so she's making a guess here.]

Guess so. S'a place where folks drop in for a quick, cheap meal. Usually anyone who's on their way elsewhere. Nieve's a port city, so lots of sailors, either just off the boat or ready t'get on one. Place I worked was open all day, used to work the late shift into breakfast.

[ He waits a little longer, then gives the pancake another flip. When he's satisfied that it's fluffy and brown enough, he grabs a plate and serves it up with a pat of butter and a good drizzle of maple syrup, then hands her the plate. ] Lemme know whatcha think, yeah?

[So yeah, like an inn.

She takes the plate, and like anyone from a basically medieval culture, she tears a piece off the pancake off with her hand and puts it in her mouth.

Forks are for rich people, ok.]

It's good. Not as sweet as I thought it would be. I like it.

[ He can't help a smile when she tears into the pancake. He'd be remiss to say he hadn't done so before-- especially before he'd learned more about human culture. Hell, eating with his hands had been a way to get used to having hands to begin with. ]

Careful, syrup'll get your fingers sticky, yeah? [ He goes about pouring more batter into the pan, this time with the intention of making one for himself. ] Glad you like it, though.

So I told you 'bout the people from my world, yeah? What 'bout yours? Everyone there got pointy ears, or're you special?

[The warning about the syrup just prompts her to swipe a finger through a small pool of it and put it directly in her mouth, then takes her finger out with a smack and a grin.

She fears no stickiness!]

The ears aren't really uncommon. I'm a half-elf. I get a little bit of both sides of my parentage, but the elven side is usually more potent.

[ He chuckles at her reaction. You just keep getting more endearing, Syeira. ]

Elf, huh. Seen a few 'round here. Reminds me of someone I knew before, at the station I was on. [ His look is a little wistful, a little sad. Granted he rarely saw Toby without her glamour, but he can still remember what she looked like without it clearly. ] Other half's human, I'm guessin'?

It's most likely. I don't know for sure.

[It doesn't seem to bother her.]

So who do I remind you of? Is this a friend from home?

[She asks this around a small mouthful of pancake.]

[ He shakes his head. He finally flips his own pancake, it's completely black on one side, but he doesn't seem bothered by it at all. ]

Friend from the place I was stuck at 'fore I showed up here. Her name was Toby, short for October. She er, went home. Couple weeks before I left. [ Of course, at this point he's unaware that she didn't, really. ] Pretty sure it's been a couple years since, but hell if I can remember what happened between. Whatever Atroma did t'stick these things in our heads, they got rid of those memories, yeah? Dunno if it was on purpose.

I don't really know. I think I remember everything I should, except being abducted.

[A vaguely sour note there, but not her focus.]

Are you really going to eat it like that?

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