Your Time is Sand, Your Ways are Leaves upon the Sea

[nostradamnit]

Who: Nostradamus and Company
Where: Cabin 139, the buffet, noisy places
What: Quick pre-event thingum
When: June, before the camping excursion.
Warnings: None yet


1. And the hand just re-arranges the players in the game [Closed to Hythlodaeus]
Down at the very end of the hall (or beginning, if one is wise enough to take the nearer elevator bank) is Room 139, where one can find Michel de Nostradame sitting on the bed, this fine afternoon. A tall man, he occupies the bed rather fully, his leather boots sitting on the floor beside it. He's holding a Serena Eterna notebook and one of these fascinating 'pens' from the souvenir shop, organizing some of his thoughts on paper.

This is the state of things, when Hythlodaeus arrives. The room itself is tidy, no extra 'stuff' in it yet. It seems Nostradamus has yet to really figure out how he wishes to occupy it.


2. Oh, I had a dream, it seemed I stood alone [Open, Windjammer Buffet]
Nostradamus isn't the first person to whom the buffet has seemed a little foreign, but he's clearly taking a methodical approach to figuring out what he likes and what he doesn't, five or six plates on the table in front of him, a little sample of several dishes on each. He's actually arranged the plates so that they're roughly mapping out the buffet itself, to make it easier to find what he enjoys again.

"It would be nice if I knew what any of these delicacies were called." He has an egg roll in hand as he says that, half-eaten.


3. And the veil of all the years [Open, Casino or Rischie]
Perhaps you're passing through the casino or lingering in Rischie for a late night drink. Either way, it's clear that the man in the leather jerkin is not having a good time. The lights and sounds, the smoke in the casino or the bass in the club--it's overwhelming for a man who comes from the days when a hearty joust or a feast was the greatest festivity in the castle. Disoriented and suffering from sensory overload, Nostradamus is in a corner with his hands over his ears.

He may need a little assistance.


4. Goes sinking from my eyes like a stone [Wildcard]
darkersolstice or darkersolstice#9463, as always

Comments

1

[ktizo]

Hythlodaeus enters the room with a quick glance around at the surroundings, before his eyes fall upon Nostradamus. He offers a cheerful wave, before sitting on the free bed and smiling at his new roommate.

"Well met, my friend. You are the other occupant of this room, I take it?"

Still in his floor-length robes, his white mask hanging at his chest, Hythlodaeus makes an interesting sight if nothing else.

3!

[gapmoe]

Passing through the casino area is precisely what Ingo is doing. Beyond a game of Voltorb Flip here and there, he is not particularly prone to gambling, per se, hence why this is another step in gaining his bearings on the ship.

He's worked with passenger service for more than long enough to make a habit out of two things: 1) scan areas for anyone who might be in need and 2) never hesitate in offering his assistance. That, and Ingo understands sensory overload.

Hence, he doesn't touch the poor man, instead coming to a halt at arm's length away from him.

"Is everything alright, sir?" he asks then, using his best customer service tone of voice.

It clearly isn't. But that's a polite way of inviting him to voice his troubles.

ii

[suddenlybees]

That's an egg rollup.

[ Kano invites himself to sit down across from Nostradamus, no plate of food in front of him but it's clear enough just by looking what the other guy is up to. ]

What's the ranking so far, boss?

[nostradamnit]

"I am. I was informed I'd be sharing space with someone--it's a pleasure to meet you."

Nostradamus's voice is low and gravelly; he speaks like the sensation of trying to rollerblade on cobblestone, but he's polite about it, at least. He sits up and turns to face Hythlodaeus, looking his outfit over before his eyes hit (and linger on) the man's hair.

"I've never seen hair that color before."

[nostradamnit]

"It is...a bit much in here." It isn't the smoke-filled air of the casino that's making the man's voice sound rough, but that isn't helping. Another irritant on top of the noise of slot machines and the colored light. "There is nothing like this, where I'm from."

Nostradamus is very nearly six and a half feet tall, or he would be if he stood straight and squared his shoulders. But he's not doing that at all in the moment.

[nostradamnit]

[Nostradamus considers everything before him for a moment.]

The chicken with mushroom gravy is one of the most familiar dishes. Many of these vegetables are also similar to ones in France. The breads--some of them seem very light and insubstantial. [He holds up a white dinner roll with a dissatisfied look.]

And much of it is spiced very heavily. I cannot imagine how the captain can afford to feed us like this. There are spices in here that I am certain come from the East Indies.

me realizing ingo and nosty are about 6'7" and 6'5" respectively... tall gang

[gapmoe]

"That is quite understandable. Even to someone like myself, stemming from a city that is famed for its bright lights and entertainment, it can very easily become too much."

Ingo, for his part, is actually quite thankful to encounter someone closer to himself in height. Not having to bend over or crouch in order to seem less imposing is a very welcome indulgence.

He nods sagely, making to shepherd this gentleman to somewhere quieter with one open hand hovering a few inches from his shoulder. Though he can't offer the reassuring smile he'd like, his voice is kind. Professionally so.

"May I ask what your cabin number is, sir? I will gladly escort you there, or anywhere else you might wish to go for some peace of mind."

2

[lightconductor]

"Well, that one, I'm not entirely sure. Egg roll, I think it is? Though I'm not certain why."

Watson looks over the many assorted plates with an air of faint amusement. He can appreciate a methodical approach, at least. For his own part, he's opted for a curry dish and a cup of coffee, precariously balanced with his cane looped over his wrist.

"Might I join you, ah," and he pauses, attempting to work out how exactly he ought to address him, "Mr. de Nostradame?"

[nostradamnit]

"My cabin? 139. There or the library, whichever is closer. I haven't fully understood the layout of this floating palace yet." Look, ships are things made of wood with sails. This? This is a whole new experience altogether for him.

[nostradamnit]

"If you wish, I answer to Nostradamus." It's a bit simpler for some people. "Egg roll, hm? It is a good taste--and I enjoy the texture of the outer wrapping. But I feel too many of these would be heavy on the palate."

He moves some of the plates to make room for Watson.

[lightconductor]

"No, certainly something best enjoyed in small portions, perhaps as part of a larger meal, I agree."

Watson sits down opposite him, and takes a sip of coffee before he picks up his fork. "If nothing else is true, the food here is very good, as well as... varied. There is a restaurant here that serves a type of cuisine from Japan which seems to consist mostly of rice, seaweed, and fish, often raw. I... admit that it's much better than it sounds."

[nostradamnit]

"Raw fish? That seems...risky at best." He's well before refrigeration, of course. "I believe you if you say it's good, but I would never have thought to eat raw fish back in France."

[lightconductor]

"I've had a raw oyster or two before," actually more than that, but who's counting, "so it wasn't such a leap as all that, but I would believe the fish would have to be very fresh indeed. Or stored on ice."

Watson shakes his head. "The only person I know to have become ill from the food here is someone who had a particular reaction to one of the herbs in a carelessly-selected omelette."

[nostradamnit]

"Herbed omelettes...There must be a battalion of chefs working to prepare this volume and variety of foods each day." He's clearly awed by the abundance and the implied availability of ice even in this summery weather.

[lightconductor]

"You would think so," Watson says. "And yet, no one's even been able to find the kitchens."

He takes a mouthful of curry. No sense in letting it get cold. "Never mind the fact that some resupplying ought to be necessary, and we have never done that. At the very least, we ought to be down into less appetizing ship's rations by now, and we still have food as fresh as the first day I was here."

2

[firewalled]

Rich can't help a little double take when he's wandering past with his own plate, seeing this guy with a plethora of plates surrounding him.

"You... uh, did you fill all of those plates? I know it's all you can eat, but you've gotta pace yourself!"

[suddenlybees]

[ Nothing quite puts into perspective how little of the world one knows when trying to think of a French vegetable and drawing up blanks. ]

Well, it's a company, so I bet, like, they buy their ingredients wholesale.

[ He takes that failed dinner roll, since it looks like Nostradamus has finished his appraisal of it, and picks at the fluffy white insides. ]

Are you that surprised, though? Only super rich people can pull off something like this.

[ktizo]

"Oh, the pleasure is mine! My name is Hythlodaeus."

Hythlodaeus touches at his braid, curious. "You haven't? It's natural, I assure you." But of course, he gets distracted by the notebook in Nostradamus' hands and gestures to it.

"What are you doing there, anyhow?"

[nostradamnit]

"It sounds impossible. I don't doubt your honesty, but I don't understand how this all can be."

And he doesn't like it! Magic isn't real. Really.

[nostradamnit]

"I'm trying to figure out what these foods are, and what are good. I haven't seen many of these things before." He gestures at the plates where he's taken one or two bites out of everything already.

[nostradamnit]

Wholesale?

[The economics of 1558 run a little differently, Kano. Sorry.]

It's a sort of waste of resources I would not have thought possible for anyone within my time.

3

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy occasionally spends some time in Rischie, especially when it's late and she can't sleep. Not to drink, of course, Friday would be there if she so much as thought about it. But back home had festivals loud enough that she could hear it from her apartment, much less the ones she actually snuck out to listen to nearby, those brief glimpses of freedom in between her crushing responsibilities. It's comforting. The thump of bass and Euro-electro tinge of the music was genuinely a highlight. Which is why it sucks when she's getting orange juice from the bar and notices that dude from the morgue, curled up behind it, covering his ears. Ugh.

"Hey-" she says, leaning down, knowing he probably couldn't hear her, "you good?" she repeats the question by pointing to him and thumbs-up-ing with a questioning look.

[gapmoe]

He hums at that, needing to go over a mental map of the ship. Perhaps, once in a better location, Ingo can explain what a cruise liner is.

"I believe the library is closest, sir. We need only go down to the deck directly below."

[nostradamnit]

"Taking notes on what I've observed so far on this ship--I am constantly being stunned by everything I see and experience. This ship is a marvel from beyond my native time, so I am, ah, a little overwhelmed."

He offers the notebook to Hythlodaeus, his writing tidy, if cramped.

[nostradamnit]

"That sounds good. Could you lead the way?"

He uncurls a little, giving Ingo a thoughtful look. His outfit is strange as anyone's here, but the coat gives him an air of authority. "Are you employed on this ship?"