ORIGIN - THE PERFECT WORK

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Imp polished off his pot of soup, going so far as to tip his head back and pour the last stream of broth down his own gullet. Then he pushed up, replying as he rummaged haphazardly through Nedies' cabinets. "It sucks, yeah. I didn't realize there were worms in other caves! Ugh. They're awful. -We do 'em for the rewards, though. I didn't used to look like this," he explained, turning and gesturing at himself.

He'd started off just... brown. Scales and a little bit of fur. Now? Now he had gorgeous, glowing feathers, lots of eyes, long talons, a scorpion tail... Oh! The tail! That was a good example. It was still just a little crooked where he'd broken it long ago, but it had since healed, and it worked, at least. "My tail, that was a reward from it. It didn't used to have a stinger. And that's poisonous!" Venomous, probably, but Imp didn't know the difference.

He'd turned back, rummaging in the cabinets, when he interrupted whatever he was about to say next with a sudden "Oh! -OH HELL YEAH." When he emerged, it was to fall backwards, because the bottle--the jug--he'd hauled back was so large. He set it down carefully, pushing its clear glass (and whatever the sloshing purple liquid inside was) toward Calazeth. Probably it was cheap cooking wine, but Imp didn't know that. He could smell the faint odor of alcohol on the cork, though. "Uhhh. You ever had alcohol before?"

The 'imp' in him was tempted not to warn his new buddy. It'd be funny as hell to let him experience drunkenness for the first time, but... that'd be sort of shitty, too, and Imp tried not to do "shitty" so much, these days. "I'm thinking we could take some to the theatre, but we can't really get shitf-... too drunk in there. -If you know what drunk is?"

@Calazeth

You can have the weekends
We will live between them

Knowing that Imp had once looked different was a surprise to the beast - he did not even know it was possible to change appearances, especially so drastically. And as rewards? What if something was changed that they didn't like? Or didn't ask for? He was not sure how to feel about that, but if Imp liked his changes, then Calazeth wouldn't comment on it. He raised his head, peering over at Imp's tail and nodded approvingly. "That is a good change. Very dangerous." Obviously. "What did you look like before?" He looked over Imp, trying to figure out what was and wasn't mutations - mentally undressing him down to his bare essentials. At least, for Calazeth, it was purely curiosity in nature and nothing else.

Intrigue moved to the jug he hauled over for them. The last licks of soup cleaned from his pot and Calazeth was leaning over to the jug and sniffing the cork. He jerked back, snorting at the smell. "It smells like old fruit. Really old fruit." Concern etched his face. "Are we supposed to drink it? Won't we get sick?" And that probably answered the question of "do you know what alcohol is." No, he did not, and he shook his head to confirm that he hadn't.

"What is drunk? Why can't we get drunk in the theater?" Again, he looked between Imp and the bottle of wine. "Is it like getting sick? From the drink? Why would we do that?"

calazeth

@Imp

Imp grinned. "Used to look like, uhh..." He looked around halfheartedly, then briefly at the pot, as if considering using the remains of the broth to draw himself on a cutting board, or something. Then he shook his head. "All scales, just a little bit of fur around my neck. No feathers, no glowy shit, just two eyes, my tail was just. Uh. Spiky, kinda?" He shrugged. "I was all brown. I like my colors, now." He flexed a little, happy.

"Now, as for ALCOHOL!" Imp crowed this, with great importance, striking a pose as he held the bottle up before Calazeth. "So uh, yeah, if you drink too much you WOULD get sick. But it makes you--feel different?" he went on, squinting as he considered how to best describe it. "You get happy, y'know, more relaxed? It's fun. And then if you keep drinking past that you get kinda confused, but once you stop you go back to normal. But if you kept drinking past THAT you'd puke, yeah. Sick." Imp shrugged again.

He'd have warned about straight-up alcohol poisoning and death, but he didn't know about that. Nobody'd ever warned him, and he'd only gotten sick from drinking once. He didn't even drink often, if it came to that. "It's nice to have a little, but they don't want like, y'know. Sick in the theater. A mess to clean up." Most of this was assumption.

Most.

"Anyway, up to you if you wanna have some! But we can check the theater out either way!"

@Calazeth

You can have the weekends
We will live between them

He continued to nod, theater of the mind bringing up an image of Imp as he was before - probably quite different then what the actual reality was, but it was painting enough of a picture. "I like the colors," he commented, honestly. They were fun.

He tilted his head, interested at the bottle. He didn't like the idea of getting sick but something that made you happy? Relaxed? That could be interesting. He would argue that the soup had made him happy - was it another kind of soup? - but he supposed, from the way Imp was describing it, that it was a different kind of happy. "I'll try it." He reached forward to pluck the bottle out of Imp's grip, awkwardly maneuvering it so that some of the wine poured into his mouth.

Immediately, he flinched back, lips curling with disgust, perhaps the most he'd emoted throughout their short time together. "Oh, what is that? That is gross!" His tongue licked at his teeth as he swallowed what little he had drank. It felt like fire running down his throat. "Is that...still good? It tastes old."

He shuddered, handing the bottle back to Imp. "Ew. I liked the soup better." The alcohol was already starting to make him feel a little funny, an uncomfortable warmth in the pit of his stomach.

calazeth

@Imp

Imp absolutely cackled, albeit good-naturedly. "It's STRONG, right?! Like drinking fire! -Nah, don't worry, it's not off. You won't get sick--not from that much, at least. If you don't like it, that's cool. And thanks," he added, seemingly referencing the honest compliment to his own colors. He took the offered bottle, maneuvering it between the foreclaws of his wings to tip it back into his own open jaws. He took a very long swig, then paused to swallow; then he took another long swig, and corked it. "Lemme just..."

He stuck the bottle back where he'd found it, closing the cabinet door. "Right I'm gonna clean up after us, just a bit--SHIT that was strong," he said again, smacking his lips. Then he set about cleaning up after them--whatever bits of soup had been left behind, and the like. Nedies treated him right; he didn't want to leave the kitchen gross, or anything. When he was done he stood back, studying the marble and the countertops. "...I think that's good. Okay what about that THEATER? And uh. Maybe..." Imp grimaced a bit as he let out a little burp. "...Burns coming back up, too," he noted. "Anyway--maybe popcorn? Or corn dogs. I'm not sure what 'corn' is but it's in all the names."

@Calazeth

You can have the weekends
We will live between them

Even from the small swig Calazeth had taken, it settled unpleasently in his stomach. He was a large creature, but he also had never consumed alcohol in his life. He could feel the faintest dizziness and wondered if that was part of the appeal. It certainly wasn't a part of his appeal. He didn't think he would want another taste of that.

His jaw nearly dropped as he saw how big of a swig Imp was taking. How dizzy was he gonna get, then, if he was so much smaller then the massive Calazeth? And his drink was three times as long? He hoped that Imp wouldn't get sick, although he was confident that he at least kind of knew what he was doing. He'd had drinks before, right?

"I will help clean," he rumbled, following Imp back to do his best to be a helping hand, but he didn't know where anything went, so he ended up just picking up their bowls and handing them to Imp, and maybe manually licking up drops of soup that had fallen on the counter and floor.

Once it was suitably clean, Calazeth shuffled towards Imp again, ready to follow. "Yes, theater. And popcorn and corn dogs. What are they? More food?"

calazeth

@Imp

"That looks clean enough! Thanks for helpin'. Okay... this way."

Imp grinned broadly as he made his way to the concession stand. And while he'd had alcohol before, his gait was now distinctly... wobbly. While Nedies was an accomplished chef, the palace hardly had a proper distillery or vineyard--or maybe it was that he'd grabbed the booze that was intended for cooking. Either way it was one step off moonshine, and though Imp had built up a small tolerance, he still stumbled cheerfully as he led the way to More Food.

"Yeah! Food. Smell that?" he asked, as they rounded the last bend before the stand. Hot, buttered popcorn, corn dogs, sugary drinks with swirly straws--Imp didn't know if it was some sort of magic, but despite the relative emptiness of the Palace, the hot snacks and cold drinks always seemed ready to go.

Imp made his way--precariously--to the stand at last, and nodded up at the imp-like creature running it. "Hey!" he called out, in friendly greeting, and then he pushed aside. "Just pick whatever you want! -Whatever smells good. Maybe a little bit of everything!" He himself followed his own advice, grabbing a little bucket in his jaws and (very awkwardly, and slightly tipsy-ly) using wing-claws to maneuver in bits of fried chicken, handfuls of fresh popcorn, and no less than four corn dogs.

It was a wonder he could still fly.

@Calazeth

You can have the weekends
We will live between them

He eyed Imp as they made their way to the theater, glad that he hadn't taken much more then a single drink of alcohol - even that had rattled his head a little bit and he would rather not be wobbly and running into walls.

But the smell of food took his mind off of it - call Calazeth food motivated if you wanted, but he had spent most of his life solo-surviving in Ursa, so the warm, meaty, buttery, salty smell of theater concessions had his mouth watering, despite the delicious soup meal they just had. Food had always been food to him, but this was expanding his horizons in ways he didn't think possible. "I do smell it," he murmured. The speed of his steps increased minutely.

Calazeth standing before the full bounty of concessions was like putting a delicious steak in front of an untrained dog. He could barely hold himself back from diving straight forward into it, but decided to mirror what Imp was doing, getting himself a handled tray and piling on hot dogs, pretzels, some popcorn, and nachos (with cheese). He made sure to get one of those fizzy drinks, too.

He turned to Imp with his own piled-high concession collection. "I don't know what any of this is," he mumbled through the handle in his mouth. "Smells good. Do we eat here?"

calazeth

@Imp

Imp watched, his grin widening. He liked to see new friends enjoying themselves (at least, when they weren't Big Stupid Traitors later). And Calazeth was obviously lost in this new bounty of food. Imp waited patiently, enjoying vicariously the experience of a wealth of tasty new treats: he remembered it, himself--remembered how amazing it'd been. Not that it wasn't anymore, of course, but the novelty was worn off.

Oh, but Calazeth's question had his grin broadening even further, his many eyes widening in delight. He set his bucket down. "Oh, hell no," he breathed. "You haven't seen the best part! C'mon, buddy. This food?" (A wing-arm prodded the bucket.) "This is just the... the side-dish! The real attraction's the entertainment. Let's go see what's playing."

He lifted the bucket in his teeth and turned, waddling awkwardly on stubby legs and wings into the cinema itself: the shadowed room, the bright screen, the loud speakers, the benches of seats.

Oh, and the Oilstone slab at one side, but... never mind that, now.

@Calazeth (lmk if you want to exit with them watching something or whatever!!)

You can have the weekends
We will live between them

Calazeth picked his own concessions and followed Imp into the theater, stomach doing flips from the fact that the food he was smelling was not currently being devoured. But he held back - Imp said the best part was the entertainment?

He paused as soon as they entered the theater, eyes wide with awe. It was dark, but the screen was bright. It reminded him a bit of that strange thing that happened in Ursa a while back, when there was some kind of movie playing on the bare face of Ursa Major. But this was smaller in scale and...constant? That was pretty crazy.

They found themselves seats suitable for their body shapes (surprisingly easy - this palace was very accessible) and Calazeth dove straight into his food as he watched the...was it called Over/Seen? He didn't understand what was going on and would occasionally lean over to Imp to ask "Who is that? Why is that happening?" and "What's their name?" - that in particular was a question that came up constantly. He tried to keep it quiet and to a minimum however - a task made easy by the concessions.

Oh man, the concessions were as good as they smelled. It was quite the way to end an exciting tour of the palace with his new friend - a movie (or show, he didn't know the difference) and some delicious junk food. Definitely the kind of day he would need some repeats of.

*exit, fade out to them watching shows i guess

calazeth

@Imp

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