Saturday Multi-pup: Brunch at Milliways

[cook_the_rude]

These things happen more or less simultaneously:
 

• Dr. Hannibal Lecter enters the bar from the kitchen, bearing a small tray of autumnal themed cupcakes;
• Teja comes in from the back, talking to little Egil, and followed by four cats who hope for a late breakfast, which is provided in the shape of tea, bread, and smoked fish for humans and cats alike;
• Galen Erso emerges from the elevator to the garage, smudged, animated and followed by merely two cats, for whom he orders tuna immediately along with his own caf;
• the door opens and in walks Ragnar Lothbrok, groaning and flapping his hands irritatedly at whatever he is leaving behind beyond the door before he realises where he is, and orders beer and a pizza;
• Father Pearse Harman walks down the stairs, carrying papers and a boxy laptop computer while politely asking the first rat he encounters to provide him with a pot of tea and some biscuits.

[[OOC: Say in your tag whom you want, or you might get anybody.]]

Comments

[chime_ra_tilt]

He hadn't been expecting generosity. Zelgadis shrugs slightly, then reaches over to take a small piece. The sound of the stone fingers against the pizza pan is a bit rough, but he is careful. Handling the unfamiliar flatbread gingerly, he takes a speculative bite.

"...I could see it being popular. It's quite good," he remarks, mildly surprised. "Is it only ever as this one is, or are there variations to the recipe?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"All the variations!" Ragnar says, still munching. "Take more! We once made a pizza with beetroot and beef, even."

[chime_ra_tilt]

"Hmmmm," Zelgadiss ponders as he takes another bite. "Seems the various combinations of toppings would only be limited by the structural integrity of the bread beneath them."

He'll be ordering his own, soon. Once he pares down the choices to something manageable. It takes him the length of time it takes to finish the piece of pizza.

"Let's see. Bar, could I have a... pizza, you said?... with..." and after another few moments of deliberation, he settles on ordering a pizza with three varieties of shellfish with a garlic-butter-sauce rather than tomato-based sauce, along with wilted spinach and three or four varieties of mushrooms, and a very light sprinkling of cheese. "And... best make it a large one."

What arrives is daunting to behold. And smells amazing, to judge from Zelgadis' reaction.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Oooh," Ragnar says. "I will have to steal a slice."

[chime_ra_tilt]

"Feel free," the rocky young man offers, gesturing to the expanse of savory pie. "In thanks for introducing me to the dish."

Zel doesn't hesitate before tucking in, himself. He may not be as voracious as Lina or Gourry at mealtimes, but his stomach is pointedly reminding him of all the hours between supper last night and this technically-lunch hour, and the first small slice has only made his hunger sharper. The smell of the pizza is making his mouth water.

"Mmmmph," he says eloquently, a few moments after taking the first bite. The pizza is piping hot, and delicious.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar starts eating a piece of Zelgadiss' pizza, happy as he does so. "I thought," he says between bites, "the red sauce is mandatory?"

[chime_ra_tilt]

"Is it?" Zel replies, more dryly amused than curious. "I wouldn't know. Seems like it would limit the kinds of toppings to just those which would complement the sauce."

He takes another bite, enjoying the strange new dish. "If any try to reprimand me for unorthodox pizza, I'll simply not offer them any."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"I like your unorthodox pizza," Ragnar says, munching. "Adhering to correct beliefs is overrated. Leave that to the worse kind of Christians."

[chime_ra_tilt]

"Beliefs are... ideas. Results come from actions," Zelgadis waves a stony hand. "And restrictive beliefs about pizza can keep one from discovering new and delicious flavor combinations."

In any case, he has never really concerned himself with the beliefs of others. Or beliefs at all.

"What are Christians?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"A weird religion from my world," Ragnar says, "They believe in only one God, and that sex is terribly bad. They go to a place called heaven after death."

[chime_ra_tilt]

"... I'm sure the gods just loooove hearing that," the stone man remarks, dry. "And... don't they just die out, thinking sex is bad?"

His long pointed ears totally do not tinge pink. For all his solemnity, Zel is only nineteen or so.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"They allow marriage," Ragnar says, "but pretend it's only for the sake of making children. It's not really what their founder said, but they sort of got hung up on it as time went on. They have chief priests called bishops who are the worst; they're not allowed to marry, wear a lot of gold, and mete out terrible punishment."

[chime_ra_tilt]

"...probably the fondness for meting out punishment is a side-effect of never being allowed to marry," Zel remarks. "They sound like strange, unfortunate people."

One meets the occasional cult, on the road. Some of them get pretty weird.

"...They would probably not even approve of pizza."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Yes, they have times when they're not allowed to eat meat, due to some holy seasons," Ragnar agrees. "I'm sure they'd find somethign sinful about pizza, too."