video; un: frost's claws

[tnr]

[ The video feed is from the poster's point of view: a low-angle pan around the kitchen that shows several items last seen on the counter are now on the floor, in varying states of disarray. A can is still rolling, slowly, on its side.

The speaker sounds like a teenage boy, and rather indignant. ]

Is there nothing to hunt here? I know you all eat strange things, but I can't even find any of that. Never mind any real prey--it's messed up for there to be all that grass and nothing to eat in it, alright? Doesn't anything else live here?

[ It sounds like he maybe isn't actually looking for an answer to that question so much as he's just expressing his disapproval for this baffling and offensive state of affairs. He huffs. ]

Tell me something you eat here and how you get it, so I can decide if I'll eat it.

Comments

( video | un: alucard )

[ananym]

No. It's all very strange. Processed and packaged.

I usually cook and prepare my own meals. Fish, meats, fruits . . . Sometimes my own sauces and additions.

[tnr]

[ Additions??

In the kind of tone someone might use if Alucard was suggesting grating denim jeans onto a steak: ] What's a sauce?

[ananym]

[ ah. hm. ]

A substance we use to enhance the taste.

[tnr]

Oh.

[ Well, he can't argue with that. He sounds a little disappointed that that's the case, but... ]

...What's it made of?

[ananym]

That depends. Tartar contains mayonnaise, lemon juice, onion and seasoning.

[tnr]

[ Thistle doesn't recognise any of these food items, but he's a little reluctant to admit it when he's the one who asked.

Slightly warily: ] Would you...show me?

[ananym]

Certainly.

Shall we meet in the kitchen?

[tnr]

Oh, yes, I think I'm there already.

( video > action )

[ananym]

I shall be there shortly.

[ and he arrive promptly, dressed in his usual open white shirt and black pants. ]

[tnr]

[ Thistle is of course not wearing anything at all except his fur. He peeks out from under the kitchen table when Alucard enters, his whiskers twitching as he sniffs--obviously he couldn't smell Alucard over the network, but, well. You know. ]

Hello. Are you the human who was talking about. "Sauce"?

[ananym]

I am not a human, but I am he. Please wait a moment.

[ alucard goes to the kitchen to fetch some fish he prepared earlier. he then heats it up and then places a bit of tartar on the side. ]

Here you go.

[tnr]

[ Thistle is surprised by the assertion that this man isn't a human; he certainly seems like one? But Thistle hasn't spent enough time around humans to be confident determining what's a definitionally normal human appearance or scent.

He watches Alucard keenly while he retrieves the fish, interested both in what he's doing with the food and in trying to figure out what makes him different from humans. He also keeps asking questions: What kind of fish is it? What's he doing to heat it? Why? Aren't fish normally cold?

And at last, leaning forward to sniff the dish as Alucard sets it down: ] Is this the same sauce you were talking about before?

[ananym]

[ alucard nods. ]

It is. I made it myself.

[tnr]

[ He sniffs it again, more closely. Then he very carefully licks it. Then he sort of goes nyam nyam nyam about having it in his mouth, and licks his chops a bit... ]

...It's good.

[ He sounds surprised. ]

[ananym]

[ alucard smiles faintly. ]

I'm flattered.

[tnr]

[ He takes another, slightly less delicate lick... ]

...Where did you get the eggs? I know there aren't any birds here.

[ananym]

The station provides food, somehow. I confess I'm not too familiar with the science of it.

I usually hunt for my own food.

[tnr]

So it just...makes eggs with nothing to lay them? That's very strange.

[ He takes a little bite of the fish, as well. To his faint surprise, despite being warm, that's good too. ]

Although...not really stranger than anything else here is, I suppose.

[ananym]

Advanced science can seem very strange at the start.

But no doubt, we will both be accustomed to it soon enough.

[tnr]

[ "Science" is a word that the translator has to kind of break down for him, because there is absolutely not a word for that in his cat society, but when it is conveyed to him, his ears perk up and he sits up from where he's bent over the fish. ]

Yes, I hope so too! Do you not have, um, science, where you're from, either?

[ananym]

We do, but it is rather limited.

[ for most people, anyway. alucard, not so much. ]

People were still learning the ways of it.

[tnr]

Oh, I see... [ Thistle licks his paw. ] Can I ask, what did that look like, then? Just starting to have it, I mean.

[ananym]

There isn't much to say. They had only started to learn how to create paper and create some basic mechanical objects.

[tnr]

I mean, we don't have any of that at all, where I'm from. It's--

[ He pauses, tail twitching. ]

... Well, I should say, cats don't. I don't know what else is out there.

[ananym]

And I assume this is weighing on you.

[ not unfair. ]

But I have no doubt your own intelligence will come into play in our missions sooner or later.