2020-04-21 - Out to Lunch

It's been a bit since Vyv and Diana last chatted, and to fix this, the former has invited the latter to Lunch. "Ridiculous name, but the food offsets it acceptably," he'd said, and as it turns out the atmosphere isn't terrible, either. It's probably best classified as a gastropub, and for their, well, lunch, they've been allotted a small, comfortable booth with a reasonable view of the street. It feels fairly cozy, and effort's been put in to keep the place from becoming over-loud, even when it's bustling. Which means that as Vyv scans his menu, Diana can quite easily hear the remarks picking up from their original agreement to meet: "I mean, yes, fine, 'let's go to Lunch', very cute, but then one has to explain one means the restaurant, not the meal, which is a waste of time and oxygen, not to mention they also server dinner and, I am informed, a weekend brunch."

With a faint smile, Diana replies, "I suppose you could always say, 'Let's go to lunch at Lunch,' but that's... fraught. So the point stands." Her smile lifts as she adds, "A pleasure to see you again, of course." She glances at her menu for a few moments before asking, "Any lunch at Lunch you'd particularly recommend, by the by?" He'll no doubt be pleased to find that she's at least eschewed her Ugly Christmas Sweater aesthetic this afternoon. Still high-waisted pants and flats, but it's paired with a t-shirt. The shirt, though... features two T-Rexen, one asking the other, "dude did you eat the last unicorn?" The other simply says, "no," though the multicolored stains around its mouth (and the horn lying on the ground) suggest otherwise.

Sigh. And they're out in public together! Then again, it's not that unusual for Vyv to be out in public with a purple-haired skateboarder these days, so the contagion ship may have sailed. At least he has Hyacinth.

For his part, he's making a decidedly Springish statement, in a cornflower-blue suit with a subtle plaid pattern that gives texture more than anything else, and a butter-yellow cashmere v-neck sweater-vest over a crisp white shirt and a sky-blue tie with a pattern that, on close examination, turns out to be an array of tiny bees. A navy pocket square with a paisley in lighter blues, yellows, white, and tiny pops of red peeks from the appropriate pocket, and he's got brown leather monkstrap shoes today.

"The duck poutine was surprisingly good," he answers, "and the charcuterie board is worthwhile. Bax enjoyed the smoked goose tacos, and the bite I tried was quite tasty." He eyes the menu a moment more. "I might have those, actually. And the german pretzel, perhaps." His gaze flits up to her, though he doesn't otherwise move. "How have you been?"

"Char...cuterie board?" Diana asks, doing an admirable job of mispronouncing it in every possible way. "What's that, if you don't mind my asking? For some reason it catches my interest. Depending, I might have that and one of those pretzels like you're having." She smiles warmly at his question, of course, ducking her head in a pleased nod. "I've been very well. Surprisingly so. Haven't gotten a lot of work done, honestly, but all work and no play makes Jack and Diana too dull for words." Her smile lifts. "And how have you been? I'm sorry I didn't keep up on things as well as I'd planned to."

"Charcuterie," Vyv repeats, a touch more slowly and with one of the mildest 'really?' looks in his wide and varied repertoire, faintly amused. It's the English language version of the word rather than the original French, which one can tell by the fact that his accent doesn't switch for it. "Charcuterie," and there's the French version, "is the art of preparing meat products, sausages and pâtés and galantines and saucisson and such, as pâtisserie is the art of pastry. So we've decided we ought to serve boards laden with such things, along with cheeses, fruits, various preserves and pickles, bits of bread and crackers and the like, to mix and match as one desires. This one's not half bad. Good option if you feel like variety today and aren't vegetarian."

"What does all play and no work lead to?" he inquires. "Unutterable excitement and little pink houses?" A slight shift in position, the posture remaining well within the realm of 'good' and yet giving a more relaxed impression, casual without actually slouching. "I've been... mn. Yes, well, over all. Some strange experiences since last we talked, which-- I would says seems about par for this course, but now I think about it, things seem to have been picking up somewhat, actually. Hm." This will bear some thought, later.

Although Diana can't help but smile at his 'really?' look, she tries to look properly chastened, all the same. She does of course listen to the explanation, saying at the end, "Ah! That sounds delicious, definitely, and variety is the spice of life. I'm not a vegetarian, either, so I can nom to my heart's content. Well, that's decided!" She sets her menu down, looking pleased, and has a sip of the water that's no doubt set in front of them. "I don't know French... or really much of anything, save English and Spanish. Even Spanish I'm not really 'fluent' in, if we're being honest. I'm always running around-- and reading the rest of the time-- so I never really end up studying language as a 'thing.' All play and no work leads to a relaxed and enviable life, and we can't have that, now can we?" Her smile rises higher when she sees him relaxing, and she gives a nod. "Strangeness is definitely the norm, around here. Strangeness picking up, though... that's a potentially worrying sign. Still, I'm very glad you've been well, despite it all." A pause, and then she adds thoughtfully, "Or because of?"

"Mn, certainly not," Vyv agrees regarding the dangers of a work-free life, "...although admittedly the last hotel I stayed in did have me contemplating the pros and cons of hiring a footman." Instead he briefly gets a waiter, taking drink orders -- and then food as well, since they seem to have made up their minds.

The server departs, and Vyv has a sip of his water as well. "I quite like languages. But thus far I'm only really fluent in English and French, sadly. I can get by in a few others, but they range from 'periodically awkward' to a bit 'la plume de ma tante'. I can ask you dónde está la biblioteca, but it had better turn out to be nearby. Immersion's the most effective way, really. If I'd spent another year or two in Japan, I'd likely be fluent in that too, now."

This is not terribly important, but it does give him a few moments to mull over the question of preposition. "Both despite and because, I suppose. I was physically harmed for the first time by one of those incidents, that wasn't a favourite. And I didn't win the race." Which might be worse, now that everything's healed and back to normal. "Though neither did anyone else, I don't think. We discovered what the soup was made of and there was an attempt to make us work a disassembly line, also not ideal. Then there was Wales..." He pauses. "All right, no, mostly despite. But on the other hand some people got engaged and the libraries they have on the other side are fascinating."

Diana can't help but arch a brow as she says, "There are cons to hiring a footman?" Her lips lift into an amused smile. She orders lemonade to drink, of all things, and then tilts her head as she listens to him talk about languages. "I didn't know you'd spent time in Japan. How was it? And what's ... 'la plume de la ... something?' I'm afraid I don't know that phrase. My experience with French in particular is especially low." She smiles apologetically, and then quiets to listen about his loss in the race, and all the rest. "...what was in the soup, anyway? What sort of disassembly line? And Wales? You have me so very curious, even about the race, but especially about the libraries..."

"Well, there's the salary, obviously, and then you've got to put him somewhere," Vyv replies, "...and I do have a spare room, but just the one, and am I sure I always want a servant around? It's different in a large house. I suppose he could just live wherever he already does and just show up to work, but... Plus there's the effort of finding someone both competent and comely, and the matter of scheduling, and all in all at present I think my current staff will just have to suffice." Another sip of water, expression mild; the only hint he might not be any more than half serious is in the eyes.

"La plume de ma tante: my aunt's pen. Quill, specifically. La plume de ma tante est sur le bureau de mon oncle. My aunt's pen is on my uncle's desk." It's possibly kind of weird to hear the accent switch so completely between sentences. It's at least done doing so for the moment, as he continues, "One of those sentences which exist solely in introductory language-learning texts, that no one is ever likely to actually need to say in their new language. In English that first half tends to stand for the whole concept." He smiles suddenly, a small thing but amused, "Always sounded like some sort of euphemism to me. Apparently, the French equivalent is 'my tailor is rich'. I've no idea what the Japanese one might be. And, yes. The year before I returned to the states, I spent in Japan. Learning their pastries and confections. Quite liked it, really."

The matter of the Strangenesses has him sighing. "What was in the soup -- this was that healing soup that appeared, the 'bird noodle soup' -- was veil creatures. Of various size and shape. It was a disassembly line for killing and processing them. The being known as The Vivisectionist wanted us to take part. She was... dealt with." They're about to eat. Let's be slightly delicate. ...plus 'killed' is the sort of word that catches the attention of casual eavesdroppers, right? Not that they're so close to anyone else to need to worry too much. Wales he doesn't seem inclined to get right into, though it does remind him, "Oh, I thought you might like to know: as far as I can tell, there's no distance limit on sending a thought message to another practitioner of that art. I tested it from London, and got a reply. I wouldn't recommend it from a place unlike here, though. Gave me a headache, took distinct effort to attempt. But nothing else I know of works at ranges like that, even for the most talented of us. As for libraries..." He trails off as the waiter returns, bearing Diana's lemonade and a very dark, reddish-brown beer. Pas devant les domestiques. Perhaps another strike against footmen, however fetching the livery options might be.