driftfleet | broadcast

Entry tags:

broadcast

Who: Eugene Woods
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: aboard the Starstruck immediately following
When: 9/28

[There's a popular sentiment, that it takes one to know one. And as far as broad strokes go, Eugene has to admit it's not entirely inaccurate. There's no substitute for experience. So when they swing into a new star system and find no evidence of anything but a salvage-based economy, full of pickers and souls chasing whatever temporary pleasures they can grasp at?

Not to get too teary-eyed, but it does feel a little like home.

It also means that he only needs a few days to really size up the place before he's on the network, broadcasting from his usual home base of the Starstruck's galley, a glint in his eye that speaks to him having an idea.]

Hello Drifters. I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice, but the theme of the month looks like it's going to be garbage picking. And while that looks like it'll be a great time, I think there might be room planetside for anyone who wants to help the hardworking population get a meal down and back to digging.

Put simply? This planet is getting a new food truck.

[Stupid? Oh yes. But he can make noodles for a fraction of what he can sell them at, and that's enough of a stepoff point for him.]

Anyone who wants in can give me a ring or swing by the Starstruck. And anyone else? Fleetmate discount if I see you down there.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Well, he can't cook and he doesn't eat (much), but damned if the Vision doesn't like the idea anyway.]

That does beg the question if you've found an actual truck yet. It wouldn't surprise me if there were a few mostly intact down there.

All right, for the first day or two it's going to be more of a food shuttle. But i'm pretty sure you're right and there's an empty truck or shuttle body down there that's mostly in one piece.

Very good. And I imagine a portable griddle isn't difficult to find at all. [You'd just need a piece of flat metal and a heat source, and the junkyard is just crawling with those.]

Have you made your recipes yet, or did you want to scout out the local scene and see what might be missing? A particular niche to fill, so to speak?

[He nods, already grinning despite himself, excited by the prospect of a real project.]

Ok, so the first few days are going to be cheese steaks and noodles. Classic street food. The plan from there is to see what the local scene is like, but also run a quick cost-benefit analysis on what ingredients I can buy. The good news is that between a griddle and a pot on a hot plate you can do most of your prep without a problem.

Ah, a very good place to start. But do you have a clever name for the food truck yet?

[Market research has shown that this is clearly one of the most important parts.]

And if you tell me where you'll be set up, I'll bring Wanda along to give it a taste. Did you meet her last time?

See, I am getting stuck there. If the implant translator doesn't work for jokes, a really good pun is going to be completely wasted.

[Something he'll have to ruminate on. But more importantly-]

No, I don't think I did. [And as much as he tries not to be too nosy or insinuating, it's not that common for Vision to offer to bring someone else along. One wonders.] Is she a . . . friend of yours?

[He nods; it's a valid point.] The same would apply for cultural references - they'd lack context. Perhaps a play on the Fleet?

[And at that he smiles warmly. He may not yet have permission to call her his girlfriend, but Eugene is a smart cookie.] She's--very important to me, yes. Another of the Avengers, and she's most disappointed with the general quality of ship food.

And the first thing I'm going to give her is a cheesesteak? [There's a laugh tumbling out around the edge of the words, because wow Vision, wow. Way to set him up to impress the superheroic contingent.] Let me at least make you guys some brownies.

[His smile turns into more of a grin.] I have perfect confidence that anything you choose to cook will be superior to protein gel, though she has been lamenting the lack of a proper baked dessert. Apparently the liquid nitrogen ice cream I can make is not quite the same.

[And then he creases his brow slightly.] Er, and forgive me for prying, but how is the prosthetic holding up? If it needs servicing, this planet seems ideal for finding parts.

[Polite as he is, Vision is comfortably direct about the whole situation, and Eugene glances down and gives his knee a swing. There is a bit of audible creaking - which he does have the good grace to look chagrined about.]

... probably could use a tune up, honestly. I think i'm a lot harder on it since I got the strength and fortitude buffs.

[He nods - it's been a few months anyway, so it's not surprising it's showing some wear and tear.]

All right. Perhaps we could meet up for a diagnostic? Unless there's someone else around more qualified, of course. I still wouldn't call myself an expert.

[Even if he has spent more time lately with the medical branch of Stark Industries. It's not the same as being an actual doctor.]

Come on, how much of an expert do you need to be to tune up - what. A hinge? [There are a few more simple parts in it than that, he knows, but not a heck of a lot.]

It's no full neurostimulator, certainly. Which means you needn't worry about a power supply, or rare earth metal components, or constant tune-up maintenance. It's no wonder you prefer an analog solution.

I - yes, thank you. Exactly.

[Someone gets it. Someone on the complete opposite end of the technological spectrum, but that only makes it more gratifying, if anything. And going into more of a thanks than that is more personal disclosure than he likes to really go into, so he just . . . leaves it at that.]

Just let me know when you're free and where to meet you. My schedule's pretty flexible at the moment.

It would be my pleasure, Eugene.

That sounds awesome.

[Freya is a fan of picking through peoples useless junk. There is a saying, one mans trash is another mans treasure and Freya's already starting to make ridiculous plans that will likely never come to fruition.] I will be there but what are you selling.

Also are there deals for people who eat too much?

[Not being human is very convenient but Freya has to eat a lot to keep her energy up.]

The initial run is going to be cheese steaks and noodles, but I'm seeing what I can source locally for after that.

And- what. Are you talking about a bulk discount or something?

[Freya's mouth waters.]

I would go through stupid lengths to eat a cheese steak with real stake. [She hasn't been in space very long except that she really likes eating and the food here suuuuucks.]

Yeah or something.

I'm sure we can work something out for large orders, yeah.

As far as the real steak goes . . . unfortunately, right now I'm making the beef flavor protein fake it really well. I'm working on making sure the meat I do buy isn't something horrifying.

Awesome! Because I can eat a lot. Which will surprise you because I'm only five feet tall and my stomach is as flat as a board.

[She pauses and sticks out her tongue. It's hard to believe this woman is in her late twenties.]

Eww, I dislike those things but okay. I'm going to try and find meat here too. If you need a sniffer or a taste tester I'd be happy to help. I plan to pack up the ship with whatever I can find before we leave this system.

[After they parted ways and Taako was back on his ship, he was learning how this weird stone of farspeech worked and heard a voice he recognized. Eugene, his jumpy partner in crime!

And here he is, talking about Taako's other love - food.]

Soooo, tell me more about this "food truck" thing.

Taako, hey!

[Right, right. Fantasy World Of Uncertain Technological Advancement.]

Well, it's a- hm. It's a vehicle. And it has a window in the side, and equipment inside for making food. And you park it where you think there are going to be hungry people, and then you sell them the food you've made there on the spot.

Oh, so a traveling wagon. [Kind of like what he used to run. Minus the assistant who turned out to be a fucking jerk. ]

I used to run a cooking show like that. People pay for money for that kind of thing.

Whatcha thinking of selling?

First few days? Cheap and easy. Hot sandwiches and noodles. Once I have a little capital I can reinvest it in better ingredients, and by that point I can get a good idea of what has some decent novelty value around here.

Anything with style has novelty value here.

[Seriously, it's a dump.]

How're you making your stock? Chicken, beef, pork, vegetable, or fish?

Roasted shells from something that's local, lobster-like, and I'm pretty sure isn't sentient.

[Bones had been temping but. Man. He is just too aware of those fighting pits and deeply paranoid.]

Plus the usual vegetables, herbs, and some seaweed that tastes a lot like bacon.

[...Are the animals sentient here? That's kind of messed up.]

If you need that bacon turned into real bacon so it tastes like bacon as it should, let me know.

[Real bacon. Real, fatty, crispy bacon.

Lord have mercy. It is a work of effort to keep his thought on track.]

Uh- it's actually working well for the broth, very . . . very ramen-reminiscent. But-

Shit, I'm sorry. [And he has to laugh under his breath, shaking his head because this is embarrassing, but. That's what happens when you go straight from an apocalypse to drifting through space for years.] It's been literal years since I had bacon. You can just transform meat?

[He has no idea what "ramen" is, but if it's supposed to be fishy, then I guess that works?

The way Eugene is losing track though, wow. That's actually kind of adorable. What kind of wizard did he think Taako was?]

Well duh, my man. I'm a transmutation wizard. Changing stuff from one to the other is kinda my thing.

I could have sworn you said 'flip wizard' the first time.

[Still grinning crookedly, because oh damn, this guy can make meat. Recognizable, cookable meat.]

I'm an elf of many hats and many talents, my dude.

No kidding. So how complex can you transmute, anyway? Can you do eggs? Milk?

Natch, those are easy. Give me something harder, Gene, come on.

If I don't have a good base, I conjure it.

How am I supposed to know what's hard? We don't have magic where I come from.

[Just the undead. Worst of both worlds.]

Okay. Cashews? Blue cheese. Oh- honey.

[Does he have a peanut allergy? Who really knows. To be fair, he's never tried to conjure or transmute cashews so that one could actually be hard. He'll have to try it later on one of the available items in the kitchen.]

Never tried the first two, but the last? That one I can do. Only problem being a transmuted or conjured ingredient won't have the same flavor profile as the real thing. Works well enough in tea or as a sweetener, but it's missing that umph you know?

Hence the need for some good technique, yeah.

[He can see where that makes sense. Quality ingredients can do a lot to elevate a dish, but going the other way around, knowing your way around a flavor profile and the judicious use of heat can also elevate less than stellar ingredients.]

Though honestly, if you can make anything better than 'bowl of protein slop' a lot of people get pretty excited. You wouldn't believe how far I've cruised on pancakes and frappes.

If only. My crew barely cares about the food I make. It makes me think I should let them survive on the slop - except it would be an affront to my own senses.

[He would seriously lose his own appetite if he had to watch someone ingesting that crap.]

But I can totally see people losing their minds over pancakes and frappes. Regardless of food availability, they're good staples.

[Oh no. A celebrity chef without recognition. This is an insult.

It is also, Eugene recognizes, blackly hilarious. He would give him even more shit for it, but he does hold a certain amount of warm regard for anyone who recognizes the truth of pancakes and frappes being staples.]

Nothing fancy, though. What kind of haute cuisine are you putting out for your ship with all of that new gear?

[Oh, you want to talk menus, Eugene? You want to talk menus? He's here for this. The one solace he has is that there's supposedly a TV audience out there so when he cooks, he cooks like he's doing a revival of Sizzle It Up for an invisible audience. It's a small solace, but it's there.]

Brunch on the weekends followed by afternoon tea between 2 and 4PM. Hot sandwiches. Pot pies. Roast meats and sauteed vegetables. Fruit tarts. Waffles, natch. Eggs benedict. Mmm... [He taps his fingers against the counter as he thinks back on the things he's cooked so far.] Oven baked salmon in lemon and dill sauce. Been trying to pick up new recipes, but most of the "cuisine" on this planet is too on point with their...particular aesthetic.

[Eggs. Benedict. He's going to try to ignore that his mouth is watering just thinking of a real hollandaise.]

Geez. You either need a new crew or your own restaurant.

I know, right?

[Although he still has a knee-jerk horror reaction to the suggestion of having a restaurant, he's able to clamp it down quickly enough. It's not easy, but he's getting over his fear if slowly.]

But I earned a god's favor, so I think I'll stick it out at least a little longer. Of course, friends are welcome to drop by on occasion.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

broadcast

video;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Video

Video

Video

Video

Video

voice;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject