ROMANI ITE DOMUM.

[romaneseuntdomus]

Esca doesn't realize he's walked through any door, at first, because the door to the peristyle at the Aquila Vila don't have doors, precisely. It takes Esca a moment to realize what's happened, and in that moment he walks into and onto a bed, of the softest quality he's ever encountered. The shift in perception shocks him further, and he turns, scaring and confused. An open door behind him leads back to the garden. But here... There are things to explore. Gently, he closes the door, and walks out.

The floor is soft under his feet, softer than fresh grass, and the air is pleasantly chilled like the best days at home. There are shining metal boxes open, but nothing happens when he walks inside, and eventually he finds stares that take him to identical rooms. None of the doors are locked, though it does take Esca some time to understand that one must twist the handle to open them.

He repeats this descent until he finds himself in a large room full of color and sound; multiple booths call out to him like sirens, and he is at once curious and skeptical. He wishes he had brought a sword. As is, in a shirt and braccae, he feels slightly exposed.

He climbs atop one of the nearest flashing booths, this one bright yellow and shouting about 'slots'. Crouching, he cups his hands around his mouth and calls out to allies. "Am I alone? Show yourself, friend! I mean no harm, and have naught which you could steal."

Comments

[marthy]

"Uh. Yeah." George is just fine, Esca. Just. Fine. And Martha can't tell if Esca's taking the piss out of her or not.

"I've never had it," Martha says, looking dubiously at the pot of stew. It doesn't smell bad, and it even looks pretty good. "Maybe if I pretend it isn't seal..."

[romaneseuntdomus]

Esca nods, still a little grave, and goes back to the seal stew. It has lumps of seal, a whole lot of barley, beans, and brassicas. Using stone bowls Esca finds behind a counter, he makes two portions for the both of them, and drinks from his bowl slowly without the aid of spoon. "It's good," he says. "Very good."

[marthy]

Martha looks down at her bowl, then glances around for soup spoons. This place doesn't seem to have any, and she doesn't feel like going and rooting around in a completely different restaurant. And anyway, maybe seal stew is supposed to be drunk the way Esca's doing it. He certainly doesn't seem to have any reservations when it comes to tipping his bowl up to his mouth.

Dad would despair, she suspects, but if this is how it's done, this is how it's done. Taking a deep breath, she lifts the bowl to her face and takes a very small sip. If it's awful, she doesn't want to swallow a big mouthful. "Oh--it is good."

[romaneseuntdomus]

Oh, Martha, you're lucky Esca isn't eating it straight from the caldron. Esca finishes up his stew quickly, obviously satisfied. He's clearly pleased when she seems to like it. "It's good for you. Not so terrible." He imitates her diction just slightly.

[marthy]

Straight from the cauldron? Ew, ew, ew. She gives him a slightly sheepish smile before drinking some more of it. "I guess if you have to eat seal, this is pretty good. It'd be better with a spoon, though."

[romaneseuntdomus]

Esca considers this. Maybe things are done differently, where she is from. He shrugs, and fishes the serving spoon out of the caldron, the one he used to fill up both their bowls, and hands it to her. "Better?"

[marthy]

"It's a little big..." Martha says dubiously, but she manages to make it work. It's less unwieldy for her than trying to drink the stew, though she suspects she looks ridiculous. In a few minutes, she's finished, too. "I guess you don't really have soup spoons yet, do you."

[romaneseuntdomus]

Esca looks a little confused. "This is stew," he says, because it's the best answer he can manage.

[marthy]

"Yeah, I know. You can use them for stew, too. They're spoons like this one--" and Martha gestures to the spoon sitting next to her empty bowl--"except smaller. That way you don't spill stew all over yourself while you eat it."

[romaneseuntdomus]

"I don't spill," Esca says. He's a very neat eater, in general. "I think your people are just sloppy." Said with a smile, though. It's the kindly sort of jostling insults one delivers to a member of another tribe. Even if you're fond of them, rivalry is healthy.

[marthy]

"Maybe some of them are, but the rest of us are just polite." She grins back. They've settled into a comfortable sort of kinship, she thinks, so she can take some gentle ribbing. "Want to get some dessert? You can try out a spoon for yourself."

[romaneseuntdomus]

Esca tsks at her mockingly, but takes it well enough. He likes this girl, he decides; she is very strange, but kind enough. He nods at her suggestion. "Alright, a dessert. What manner of beast is it?"

[marthy]

"It's not a beast," she says, laughing. She leads the way out of the restaurant and down the row of brightly coloured counters and awnings, in search of something suitably good-looking. "It's pudding--you know, something sweet after the main course. Do you guys eat those?"

[romaneseuntdomus]

Esca frowns, thinking. "The Romans eat honey and apples after meals. It is not a British custom." He shrugs. He was never much fond of the habit, himself, but who knows.

[marthy]

"Huh. I didn't know that." Based on how much Dad likes pudding, you'd think it was as English as roast beef. Martha stops at a little shop that boasts soft-serve and a variety of toppings. "Well, we won't have honey and apples, so it won't be too Roman. Have you ever had ice cream before?"

[romaneseuntdomus]

It's pretty English, but Esca is a Briton. Barley and seal across the sky. "Ice... cream? I have had cold milk, of course..." He feels very confused. Is this what talking to him is like, for her? He hopes not.

[marthy]

Oh, to be as good a Briton as Esca. Martha grins at him--she was hoping he hadn't--and then makes her way behind the counter. "It's like cold milk, but...colder, I guess. And sweeter, and sort of solid. And you can put all sorts of things on it--they've got crushed-up biscuits here, and chocolate sauce, and fruit..." As she speaks, she finds the plastic dishes (he can graduate to cones some other time) and figures out the soft-serve machine. Twist ice cream for her, and for him--well, she'd better ask. "There're two flavours, chocolate and vanilla. Here, you can try a bit of mine and tell me which you want. Or you can have both." She hands him a spoon and the dish of twist ice cream.

[romaneseuntdomus]

And so Esca is left with a tiny bowl of twist ice cream. It is cold to the touch, and when he pokes it, wet. He watches Martha eat first, wanting to understand properly, before taking the spoon and lifting a small sliver of ice cream to his mouth. "Mmph," he says. He swallows before continuing. "It's so cold." Like eating ice in winter, but smoother, and with the flavor of milk... he understands the name, now.

[marthy]

"Oh, yeah--I guess I should've warned you. Sorry about that." Martha watches his face intently for his opinion. "The white ice cream is vanilla and the brown ice cream is chocolate. Which flavour do you want?"

[romaneseuntdomus]

"Ah," he says. "I cannot taste a difference." Perhaps, in Martha's time, one can distinguish such things. For Esca, all he can tell is that it's cold. "Strange," he says. "But I do like it. Thank you, Martha."

[marthy]

"They're not very strong flavours, I guess. Do you want anything on your ice cream?" She fills another cup with twist ice cream before smothering it in hot fudge, caramel, and Oreos. "It's good plain, too, but if you want sprinkles or something..."

[romaneseuntdomus]

Esca looks at her food curiously, trying to make up his mind. While the extra flourishes seem optional, he supposes eating them is essential to understanding the dish. "What do you suggest? What are... sprinkles?"

[marthy]

"Hmmm. It depends on how much you like sweet things. If you're not a big fan, fruit might be a better idea." Martha finds a container of rainbow-coloured sprinkles and places it in front of Esca, using a spoon to scoop out some sprinkles and let them fall back into the container. "These are sprinkles. They don't taste like much, but they look nice. These are bits of candy, these are bits of biscuits, and these over here--" for she's been gesturing to the various things as she speaks--"are syrups. They're warm."

[romaneseuntdomus]

In an attempt to understand the appeal of ice cream, Esca ends up trying a tiny bit of all the toppings that look edible. He ends up mostly with fruit and whatever's brightly colored, not quite trusting whatever chocolate is. He finds the stuff much more palpable with the additional elements, and eats a bit more enthusiastically. "Thank you," he says. "It's... very interesting." He tries to understand how alien his food must seem to her, and understands better her objection to seal, now.

[marthy]

Martha watches him pile on the toppings with something like amusement; his dish looks really nice, if not the kind of sundae she goes for when she really needs a pick-me-up. (There's not a hint of chocolate, as far as she can tell.) "You're welcome," she says brightly, running her spoon along her own dessert. "Ice cream's my favourite for dessert."