Dinner Is Served

Log Title: Dinner Is Served

Characters: Kimber, Major Bludd

Location: Quintesson shuttle

Date: 24 Feb 2016

TP: Killing Jar TP

Summary: The unidentified alien presents its captives with a meal.

With nothing better to do than talk to Kimber, Bludd's decided writing in a blank book provided by the alien is a more productive use of his time. He's lying on his bed, sans boots, his knees drawn up so his legs can serve as a place to prop up the book while he writes. After a few minutes' grouchy scribblings, he flips a page and begins idly sketching the alien.

Kimber has pulled herself together at last. In her cell she has been humming quietly and playing different tunes on the keytar, which she's turned almost all the way down to barely a whisper. Every once in a while she'll glance up, looking over at Bludd across the hall, at the giant robot in the hall, and, with a quicker, more nervous glance, at the door through which the alien had last emerged. The cells are relatively comfortable, but it's been hours and still the alien has delivered no food or water.

Bludd frowns at the partial sketch he's made from his memory of the alien's strange appearance, then shuts the book and tosses it onto the bed beside him. He turns the pen around in his fingers and gazes across the room at Kimber for a moment, then glances to the ceiling. "Have you figured out the food thing yet?" he asks, assuming the alien is watching and listening to them. "We humans get kinda uncomfortable when we don't get to eat for hours on end."

GAME: Kimber PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Average difficulty.

Kimber looks over as Bludd speaks, and starts to answer before realizing quickly that Bludd's comments were intended for the alien, not for her. Still, she uses the interruption as an excuse to turn off her keytar and put it down on her bed. She crosses the hallway and enters Bludd's cell. "Do you think he's listening? You don't think he intends to starve us, do you?" She looks around Bludd's room, noting the small ways in which it's decorated differently than hers.

Bludd's desk has a couple of books piled on it, along with a handful of pens and pencils and a few sheets of blank paper, but otherwise his side of the cell isn't much different to Kimber's. He holds the pen before him and stares at it pensively. "No, I don't think he intends to starve us," he replies. "He said he wants to observe us. If he wanted to observe our dead bodies he didn't need to put us in a cell and give us beds to sleep on." He glances toward the ceiling again. "Could be he doesn't know how often we need to eat. He seemed surprised when I told him the bare cells weren't suitable for humans." He scowls momentarily, then mutters, "Not that I haven't been held under far worse conditions." He sits up fully, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and placing his feet on the floor. "I ate not long before I was grabbed," he goes on, "but I'm getting to where I'm thinking about getting another meal."

Kimber nods soberly, her earlier theatrics set aside for now. She knocks lightly on Bludd's desk. "These holograms are pretty outrageous," she says, sounding a little awed. "Opaque, tactile, responsive -- some of the best I've seen. Think he combines them with forcefields? I'll bet everything in these rooms are faked, but he can't fake food and water - he has to gather the real thing if he wants it to nourish us. I wonder what he's doing - programming a holographic chef?"

Bludd tilts his head as he gazes curiously at Kimber as she speaks. Maybe she's not as empty-headed as he thought. "Probably some kinda forcefield," he agrees, nodding. "Surely the room's true appearance is what it was when we first arrived. I rather prefer it this way." He reaches for one of the books resting on his desk. "And I don't much care about the delivery, just as long as there's food that's edible." He smirks at her. "And I mean 'edible' in the typical sense, not in the 'I've been on the run for two weeks and have been eating whatever I think will keep me from starving to death and not make me ill.' sense." He glances back across the room toward Kimber's bed, and her keytar. "You enjoying that thing?" he asks. "It seems to've helped calm you down some."

Kimber glances back at her cell and the keytar on her bed. "Yeah. I tried to keep it down - I could see that you were writing. But, yeah, it calms me down to just sit and play. I really wish my sisters were here - and then again, I don't, you know?" She frowns, sitting down on the edge of Bludd's bed. "I could use some food as well. I had a salad last night, but I really haven't had anything today. I could really go for some pizza and ice-cream, you know?"

Bludd smiles; not the wicked kind of smile he bestowed on her the last time they'd met, but something far more genuine. "Glad t'hear it. Y'know, after I saw that keytar show up I thought I shoulda asked for an electric guitar, like the one I had when I was a kid. Didn't expect he'd actually give you an instrument." He chuckles. "Pizza sounds great." He glances toward the ceiling again. "I do hope something edible is forthcoming... the more I think about food the hungrier I get."

"Maybe if you asked for a guitar, he'd give you one," Kimber smiles, apparently forgetting for a moment that she hates Bludd. "Maybe we could even play together! What kind of music do you like?" She jumps suddenly, however, as the alien's voice suddenly speaks in the room, as if from hidden speakers. "Remain in your cells," the voice instructs, and energy bars suddenly reappear at the edge of Bludd's cell, trapping both Kimber and he in his cell and blocking access to the hallway.

Bludd's on his feet in an instant, though he doesn't move otherwise, a quiet curse tumbling from his lips. He watches the bars intently, waiting for whatever the alien has in mind for them. "Hopefully this is dinner bein' served and not ..." He trails off, opting not to elaborate on what other possibilities he suspects.

"Or?" Kimber asks, panic creeping back into her voice, which immediately jumps two octaves. "Or what?" In answer the door opens again, and what appears to be a giant lizard man appears, carrying what to him seems to be a smallish box. The robot steps aside to let him through, and the lizard man approaches the bars crossing the hallway. Those bars disappear, leaving only the ones sealing Bludd and Kimber in their cell. The lizard man places the box in between the cells, and steps back. As he glances at the two humans with unreadable glittering eyes, the bars reappear across the hallway.

"...not something we don't want delivered," Bludd mutters, staring at the box in the hall as the lizard man sets it down.

Kimber frowns, looking like she doesn't believe that's what Bludd was thinking, but distracted as well by the box that was delivered. Away from the giant lizard, the box looks much larger on its own - a featureless cube set more or less centered in the hallway between the two cells. As Bludd and Kimber stare over at the box, the bars on their cell disappear, giving them access to the hallway again - at least, the bit of the hallways between their cells, where the box is located.

Bludd glances to Kimber and moves toward the box, examining it for any markings or protrusions, though he doesn't expect to find any. He crouches near it, listening to determine if it's making any kind of noise. In hopes that this is merely their dinner being delivered, he also attempts to detect any odour that might be coming from it.

Without moving, the exterior of the box simply disappears. Kimber gasps as what is revealed is food, as hoped, although possibly not with the presentation expected. In place of the box is a small but ornate table, set for two with a dish in the center covered in a silver dome. Candles are lit to either side of the dome, which has a handle on top to make it easy to access whatever is within. The hidden dinner smells delicious, especially to someone who hasn't eaten in hours. With a flash of light, two tall chairs appear on either side of the table.

Bludd stands up abruptly, taking an automatic step away as the box vanishes. He stares at the table and its fancy setting, one eyebrow rising slowly. "Well," he says at last, "it would seem t'be dinner." He looks over his shoulder at Kimber, then back to the table. He doesn't yet make a move toward it, but merely stands there regarding it suspiciously.

"You think it's OK to eat? I mean - from what you've said, it wouldn't make sense for it to poison us or anything." She cautiously approaches the table, and then carefully lifts the lid over the food. On the tray is some strange-looking meat and what are presumably vegetables, but nothing that looks immediately recognizable as Earth food. Still, it does smell appetizing. "Huh," Kimber says. "Well, it's not pizza or ice-cream, that's for sure." She looks up at Bludd for his thoughts.

Bludd regards the food that was hiding under the dome. "It wouldn't," he confirms, moving closer to the table. "The only thing that concerns me is its skill in creating something that humans can safely eat." He looks at Kimber. "It might not poison us on purpose, but it might make a mistake. Still..." His stomach chooses that moment to growl quietly in protest of its emptiness.

"Huh. That's a good point. Still, it might be eat this or die. Maybe try a little, and see if it makes us sick?" Kimber looks like maybe hunger is influencing her potential decision-making as well.

"Good idea," Bludd agrees, nodding. He looks at the setting again and smirks. "Funny, it sendin' this in to us like this." He gestures to the candles. "Like some kinda ... romantic dinner fer two..." He chuckles at the very idea of sitting down to a 'romantic' dinner with Kimber Benton.

Kimber makes a face. "'Romantic'? With you? Ewww! You're like, old. And Evil. I mean, whatevs." She sits down at the table, however, and looks over the utensils. One of them is a carving knife. She looks at from it to Bludd, light eyes widening. She glances quickly at the door, through which the lizardman has disappeared. While the door was open, however, a rough metallic voice could be heard saying, "I don't smeggin believe..."

Bludd rolls his eyes at Kimber's response, though he's still smiling. "How d'you know how old I am?" he asks, taking the seat opposite her. He glances sharply toward the door at the sound of a different voice. "Wonder who that is." As the door closes and shuts off the sound of the voices, he returns his attention to the meal before them. "Well, may's well give this a shot, eh?"

Kimber looks meaningfully at the carving knife, and then bulges her eyes and looks towards the door. The giant robot moves back in front of the door, and then resumes starting dumbly ahead, giving the humans little attention. "Yes," Kimber says deliberately. "You should try it." She reaches over and picks up the carving knife, offering it to Bludd. She then looks at the knife, looks at him, and then looks at the door. SO SUBTLE!

"Alright, I will," Bludd replies, deliberately allowing his fingers to brush against hers as he takes the knife from her. "If you'd like to try it," he adds, flicking an ever-so-brief glance toward the robot in front of the door, "I suggest you go right ahead and -try it- yourself." He slices off a portion of the presumed meat and lays it on the plate in front of him, then sets the knife down beside the platter and picks up the knife and fork beside his plate. He gives her a crooked, smartass smile, then sets about cutting what he hopes is meatlike enough to not sicken him.

Kimber pouts and scowls. "I thought you were the big bad soldier," she grumbles nearly inaudibly, but picks up the knife and carves herself a helping, taking some of the strange vegetables as well. She picks up her own knife and fork, keeping the carving knife close by. She then watches Bludd, waiting for him to taste his food before she does anything else. The delicious scent is making waiting nearly unbearable, however. She jumps as soft music starts filling the hallway, and the lights dim.

"I am the big bad soldier." Bludd stabs a small piece of hopefully-meat with his fork and regards it. "I'm also smart enough to know when is and is not a good time to ... try something. You may recall that we were told we would not be injured so long as we agreed to take part in the experiments. The experiments that are to be held here, on what I assume is some kind of air- or spacecraft. And not in some other place that is not here." He looks up as the lighting changes and music begins to play, staring in disbelief for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. "This alien fella's got some funny ideas, don't he?"

Kimber looks aghast a moment, and then can't help but join Bludd in laughing, shaking her head as well. "Oh, my GOD. Maybe you're right. Is this a date?" She laughs, this time with more humor and less implied insult. "Stormer's going to get jealous," she jokes. "Now, are you going to try that? I'm dying to know what it tastes like - I just don't want to, you know, die if I taste it." She grins like she's joking, but still waits for Bludd to take the first bite.

"Who knows where he got his information on humans from? Early sixties sit-coms?" Bludd chuckles, pointing at Kimber with the fork that's still holding the piece of meat. "Yer lucky I'm used t'bein' sent out t'places other soldiers don't wanna go to," he tells her. "Not the first time I've been considered 'expendable'." He gives her a serious look for the slightest of moments before placing the hopefully-meat into his mouth.

The meat is delicious, whatever it is - strangely spiced, but not really the weirdest thing Bludd has eaten in all his travels. It may be accidentally poisonous, but it's at least well-prepared.

Kimber frowns at Bludd's words. "You think that's what we are? Expendable?" She seems to consider the situation steadily, for now keeping her panic at bay. "I guess no one knows where we are, huh? This won't be like when you kidnapped me - there's nothing this thing wants that he's going to trade us for, is it?" Her pink lip trembles.

Bludd chews thoughtfully, nodding slowly to himself as he considers the taste of the meat. He frowns at her and swallows before speaking. "No, m'dear, I mean -I-'m expendable. To you." He gestures to the platter with the food on it. "You want -me- to take the risk first so that if I cark it you'll know not t'do that, right?" He collects some of the vegetables from the platter and sets them on his plate. "What I said was I'm used t'bein' used like that." He stabs what resembles a green bean, though the green is a little bluer than he's used to, with slightly more force than is necessary. "I've no doubt no one knows where we are. We each have people who will notice we're missing, but they're not going to be able to find us." He pops the vegetable into his mouth with considerably less pause than he did a moment ago with the meat.

Kimber frowns, and looks a little guilty. "I'm sorry, I just - I'm sorry." She looks down at her plate, and cuts a dainty bite off of her share of the meat and pops it delicately into her mouth. Apparently forgetting again that she hates Major Bludd, she looks at him from across the table, the candlelight softening the harsh lines of her extreme makeup. "I didn't meant to treat you like you were expendable," she apologizes.

Bludd gives a non-commital grunt, shrugging. "Makes sense," he says. "You've got every reason t'hate me given our ... history." He cuts the meat before him into bite-sized pieces, glancing up to her occasionally as he does so. "Y'probably don't realise this, but kidnappin' you girls was never part o'the plan." He frowns. "I hate doin' kidnappings."

Kimber frowns. "No? I thought you wanted to kidnap us to get our hologram technology." She eats delicately, nodding at Bludd's acknowledgment of why she should hate him, but not really having a lot of fire behind it anymore. As she eats and dabs her lips, most of her pink lipstick comes off, and the more of her extreme makeup she loses to tears and napkins the less she looks like a rock star and the more she looks like a grown immature woman trying to keep it together.

"Cobra wanted the technology, yeah," Bludd explains, "but the operation was supposed t'seize it on-site. We didn't know you had all the off-the-rack stuff out front and the really good gear backstage." He shrugs again. "We didn't bring Tele-Vipers; we brought regular Vipers. Standard infantry troops. We figured on grabbin' the gear, haulin' it home, and havin' the guys who know what they're lookin' at check it over. But when those holographic soldiers came out, so obviously tryin' t'prevent us from going backstage, we figured the real prize must be back there. But by that time the Marines were on their way, and that little force we had wouldn't stand up against them. So we grabbed you as insurance." He lifts another piece of meat on his fork. "You were targets of opportunity. Not what I planned but better'n goin' home an' tellin' the Commander we didn't get what we came for."

Kimber shakes her head. "So, in trying to protect our technology, we led you right to it." She laughs ruefully. "If we ever get out of here, I'll have to tell the girls that. They may get a kick out of it, after all this time. I never knew." She twists her face into a parody of a thoughtful expression. "Do you think we were targets of opportunity, or do you think the alien chose us for a reason? It is coincidence that we, like, know each other, or is that the point?"

Bludd eats silently for a few minutes, his own expression thoughtful. "Impossible t'say, really," he says finally. "Who knows how this alien thinks? It hasn't said too much beyond it wants to experiment on us and it's watchin' us." He looks toward the ceiling. "It basically said, 'just be yourselves'. I wonder what it expects us t'do." His gaze falls on the candle nearest him on the table and a slightly disturbed look flashes across his face before he rededicates himself to his meal.

Kimber catches the look. "What? What is it? What were you thinking?" She shovels a few more bites into her mouth, and then pushes the rest of the strange food away. "Have you figured something out that you're not telling me?" She glances at the door, and then throws her napkin over the carving knife. Keeping her eyes on Bludd, she starts to strip off her long-sleeved white jacket, keeping on the frilling pink shirt beneath. Acting ever-so-casually, she lays the jacket over the napkin-covered knife.

Bludd shakes his head at her question, but smiles and nods very faintly as she conceals the carving knife. "I suspect we'll find out what it wants when it decides to tell us." He continues to eat, experience telling him it's best to take advantage of what's given him while it's here.

Kimber twists her pretty mouth into a frown. "Well, I for one am tired of waiting. I miss my girlfriend, I miss my sisters, and I miss my studio. If it's a show this alien wants, he's going to be disappointed. I'm going to bed." She collects her jacket with the concealed knife, and stands up. "Good night, uh - what should I call you, anyway? 'Major'?"

"We may be here a while," Bludd tells Kimber. "And yes, that's fine. That's what most people call me." His plate now empty, Bludd also stands up. "G'night," he offers, moving around the table toward his bed.

Kimber glances over. "Good night, Major. We'll figure something out in the morning." After carefully stowing her hidden knife away for an emergency, Kimber climbs into her bed and tries to sleep.