(no subject)

[hate_gettin_older]

At a table not too far from the bar, Edgar is glaring at his plate as though it's insulted him.

Seriously, what.

Comments

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah's heading back from the library, predictably with another armload of books.

"Oh hello, Edgar. Is everything all right?"

Along with her words, Edgar can feel the bright wash of pleasure she has at seeing him, along with her genuine concern.

[hate_gettin_older]

He glances up at her with an almost involuntary smile. "Oh, hey Dejah. No, nothing's wrong exactly, just -- well will you look at this?" The last words are somewhere between plaintive and outraged.

[dejah_thoris]

She shifts her armload of books so she can set them on the table before taking a seat beside him. She has to lean in to see his plate.

The base layer looks like ice. It is ice. There's a bit of greenery which she suspects is purely decorative. And there's a ring of six greyish oblong shapes radiating out from the center. Each one is topped by a wet lump of flesh. They smell vaguely sweet and possibly briny.

Her eyes go wide. "I have no idea."

[hate_gettin_older]

"They taste like someone wrapped a fuckin rubber sheet around some rusty metal and let it freeze like that."

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah's brow furrows.

"Might I try one?" Her curiosity is palpable.

[hate_gettin_older]

"... Only if you promise not to blame me when it's horrible."

[dejah_thoris]

"Of course not."

She picks up one of the tiny forks accompanying the dish. A napkin appears on the bar.

Doctor Thoris. Fresh oysters are best eaten by picking up the shell and consuming both meat and liquid in one bite. Some people like a bit of horseradish on top, but considering your palate, I wouldn't recommend it.

"Thank you, Lady Bar. Like this?" She picks up the shell and cautiously slurps both oyster and liquor in one awkward bite. She chews and her eyes roll back in her head.

[not_his_pa]

"What's wrong with it?" William asks as he spots Edgar staring at his plate.

[hate_gettin_older]

"Here," he says indignantly, "you tell me."

On the plate is a generous serving of raw oysters, on the half-shell.

[not_his_pa]

"I've seen those before in pictures but I don't think I've eaten 'em. They come from the sea, don't remember if they're mussels, oysters or clams. Rich folks eat 'em."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Fuckin figures." He shakes his head. "They're awful."

[not_his_pa]

"Can I try one?" He's curious if they're that bad.

[hate_gettin_older]

He gestures at the plate with a broad sweep of his hand: be my guest. "Don't say I didn't warn you though."

[pro_patria_mortuus]

The force of his glare is enough for him to draw a confused look from at least one passerby.

Indeed: what?

[hate_gettin_older]

The what appears to be a plate of perfect fresh oysters on the half-shell, minus one.

The way Edgar's glaring, he appears to suspect it's some kind of poor joke.

[pro_patria_mortuus]

...Okay.

Some people don't like oysters...? Or maybe they've gone off, although that'd be surprising around here.

Or maybe there's something else that Enjolras hasn't noticed, or can't see, or there's personal history here, or something.

Anyway, he's not going to pry into the other guy's business, but he is bemused enough to spend another moment trying to figure out if it really is the oysters being glared at or if he's missing something obvious.

[hate_gettin_older]

And it's just a moment long enough for Edgar to catch sight of him.

"Oi," he says, "you have any idea what these are?"

[pro_patria_mortuus]

"...Oysters, aren't they?"

It's Milliways, so God only knows, but -- there's nothing else they could be, right?

(Here's the thing: in Enjolras's France, they're as common a cheap bar food as peanuts will be in another year and place. It requires a slight effort to wrap his brain around the idea of not recognizing them.)

[hate_gettin_older]

"And they're meant to be food? People eat these?"

Like, on purpose?

[onceaviking]

If we can assume that the sun has set at this point, he is being watched by a tall, blond guy.
And he likely won't be able to tell, but he is being watched with amusement.

"Never had oysters?"

This guy would look like the very picture of health and strength ( tall, broad shoulders, toned) if it wasn't for his pallor and his slightly red rimmed eyes.

[hate_gettin_older]

Pallor and red-rimmed eyes don't look at all out of the ordinary to any tail-sectioner.

"That what this shite is, then?"

[onceaviking]

Eric nods and walks a little closer.
"Raw oysters. They're generally considered to be quite the mood enhancer."

The word 'mood' might be stressed slightly.

[hate_gettin_older]

That gets a second glance.

"Well," eyebrows raised slightly, "that would depend what mood you want to enhance, wouldn't it."

[onceaviking]

"Sexual prowess," Eric declares. Or clarifies.

"Though part of it would likely be feeding it to your partners."

Yes, that was a plural.

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar shudders ostentatiously. "Wouldn't feed that to anyone I half liked."