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Sushi Station, Friday Evening

Medusa still didn't trust the human food, but a girl had to eat, and she had been told that this 'sushi' was fresh and delicious, which sounded promising. Also, she approved of any time she got to spend with Blackagar, so here she was, eying her surroundings in a vaguely suspicious way.

((For the cousin, but it is of course an open restaurant!))

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It was interesting at least! Watching the plates of food travel around them on that little belt. Very... colorful.

That was the best he could manage right now.

It was interesting! She had to agree. But she wasn't sure what to do with it. "Why is the food traveling?" she wondered, and, "Do we just...take it?"

That would make sense, right? Perhaps it was to give people the illusion of hunting as their primitive ancestors must have?

...Or it was meant to taunt them.

"That's kind of sad," Medusa said. "Either way. Hu--Americans are so silly." Yes. Because they were, of course, human. And German. "You pick one," she decided. He was of higher rank, so the privilege should be his.

Also, then it would be his fault if it was terrible. She was pragmatic like that.

Germans were wonderful. If that game with the ball they kicked about was anything to go by.

Blackagar inhaled silently, looking at the dishes as they passed. This would be more helpful if he actually knew what each thing was, you know. But, after a moment of careful thought, he grabbed a play with pinkish meat over rice.

Medusa had liked the French ~~what? She has eyes~~ until she realized they were a pack of bitchy children masquerading as grown men. Humans. Still, she was glad their adopted nation was doing well in the ball-kicking game.

"A wise choice," she declared, even though she had no idea what it was and had no intention whatsoever of eating the flesh.

There was an odd container of salt brown liquid and green paste on the table as well. After giving the plate of food a good look over, Blackagar picked up the liquid to see what it was for.

Maybe it was like a soda!

"It does look like the sodas," Medusa agreed. "Only it doesn't seem to have bubbles. And the opening is very small."

A stronger soda then? Something that wasn't supposed to be had in large amounts?

He poured a bit in one of the tiny, tiny cups they were given, looking it over for any stray bubbles.

She still couldn't see any. Medusa poked at the tiny cup and offered, "Should I drink it?"

If she thought it was for the best, she was more than permitted to. It didn't look to be poisonous, at least.

So far.

Medusa doubted they would put poison on a table at the restaurant, although some of the human foods did strike her as semi-poisonous. She lifted the tiny cup to her lips and took a tiny sip--then spluttered and made a face. "That is not soda."

Was it that bad? He reached over to take the small cup from her to give it a taste. Because he was possibly insane.

"That is extremely salty," Medusa informed him. "But you're welcome to see for yourself." All must suffer as she had suffered.

Taking a sip, he paused and gave it all the careful consideration it deserved.

...yes, maybe they should be a bit more careful when trying the food here if this was what they just put out for the unsuspecting.

Medusa poked at the green stuff with the end of one of the sticks they'd been given to eat with. "And this? It's definitely not soda." She added quickly, "But I'm not trying it this time."

If she was going to be like that, he'd try the green paste. It couldn't possibly be as weird as the salty liquid had been, after all.

Taking a healthy scoop, Blackagar put it in his mouth.

...and froze.

"What, what is it?" Medusa asked. "What's wrong?" Had she actually poisoned him?

It was hotter than expected. Hot in the way that he was almost sure his brain was leaking out his nose. It was possibly taking every bit of training to keep from spitting it out and making noise as he did so.

Which was greatly appreciated! Medusalith liked being alive. She gave brief thought to killing the humans responsible for this with her hair, then looked around for a solution. The salty stuff was briefly considered and discarded, and then she offered him her glass of water.

He nodded, clearly thankful for that as he drank the water as quickly as he could without blowing up the island or tearing a hole in the fabric of reality.

"I'm terribly sorry," Medusa said softly, once she was sure the danger of a sudden death had passed.

Maybe... they should ask people about the food before trying it next time?

He was possibly looking at the meat and rice like it was about to jump out and attack them at any moment now.

"Yes, that would probably make more sense," she muttered as she used one of the sticks to poke the meat away from the rice so she could remove a small amount of rice with her fingers and pop it in her mouth. "This is all right," she reported with relief. "There's some form of flavoring, but it's not...evil."

And the meat? It didn't even appear to be cooked. How did they expect people to consume it when they couldn't be bothered to cook?

Eating animal flesh was barbaric enough, but, "Is it even hygienic? I was under the impression the mastery of fire was, at least, not a recent development."

It didn't sound hygienic, no. Maybe they were supposed to do the cooking to their own taste?

There was no heat source. "I...don't think so."

...what were they supposed to do then? He peaked around the restaurant, watching people consume raw flesh as if it were perfectly normal.

What madness was this?

"They're even crazier than I suspected," Medusa murmured.

Next time, they were going to ask straight away if the restaurant actually cooked the food. And perhaps just avoiding fish altogether, hmm?

Good idea?

"Absolutely," Medusa agreed. "Since we clearly have very different ideas about what constitutes food." She was going to have to find out what the hell that green stuff had been.

He'd have to make this up to her. Maybe a trip to the beach again? They could make their own food instead of dealing with this... this.

"I believe," Medusa said, sounding pleased and relieved, "I'll have to take you up on that."

If they were very vigilant, perhaps Lockjaw wouldn't eat all the food.

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Sushi Station, Friday Evening

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