snowblindmemes | No excuse but it's a -

Food

[So how fast can the spiderbots keep that buffet stocked? Because Enoch has taken a decent chunk of the protein available and is busily tearing it all apart to construct sandwiches. Poultry, beef, fish, doesn't matter what it is, it's getting stuffed into bread rolls. Best food idea anyone's ever had, honestly. Why didn't anyone in his time think of it?

Why yes, he does plan to eat it all himself. Unless, of course, someone is staring at him. He offers a sandwich.]

Here, would you like one?

Backrubs?

[Right, so spiderbots may not be everyone's thing. Whether they dislike spiders, robots, both, or just want human hands working on them, Enoch sometimes notices people who seem like they could use one but haven't gone to the bots yet and approaches. Though, his initial assumption is that they haven't found it yet...]

Eve's machines give massages here. You look as if you could use one.

[He isn't an expert, himself, and can't do more than basic shoulder or back rubs but he'd like to help people relax here if they don't want what's offered. This place is too nice not to take full advantage of.]

Idiocy

[Of course, Enoch isn't all generosity and smiles today. He slips into a hot water pool at first opportunity after eating.

...And, like a moron, falls asleep in there, head pillowed on his arm on the edge, snoring lightly. It would be cute if it wasn't dangerous.]

[ Angel is, in fact, staring. Watching Enoch turn into a sandwich-making machine before her eyes is as impressive as it is weird - and it's really freaking weird. Is he going to eat all that? Should she even let him try?

The answer is yes. Obviously. For science. ]

Careful with all the carbs! You're gonna get fat.

[ IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE EVERYONE IS MALNOURISHED, AND ]

[food...?]

[This is a honey trap, this is the town getting into his head and picking one of his guiltiest pleasures. This will end horribly. The water will turn into acid. The spiders will dunk their head underwater. The food is poisoned. The bathrobes will turn into iron maidens and stake them in their unnatural fluffiness.

But oh wow, it's also torture not to throw caution into the wind right away.]

Soooo do you feel like eating?

[SOAP!!]

[It's not exactly a bubble bath but it might as well turn into one very soon because someone is definitely going overboard with this.

Rubbing more foam into his hair than even a tv commercial would allow, Flynn's strands are sticking up in white, bubbly spikes and he's grinning wildly, like a kid in a candy store. Or a fruit shop because he took the sweetest, fruitiest fragrants the selection has to offer. Don't judge him, he's so happy it's almost as cavity-inducing as the scent he's giving off.

Leaning over the edge of the pool he waves at the nearest bystander, beckoning for another bottle of raspberry-almond bubbley heaven.]

Hey, hi, can you, could you hand me that?

[dumb slapstick]

[It really isn't his fault. The floor is slippery, there are no slippery when wet signs around and Flynn doesn't even remember the last time he was walking around with bare feet.

On his way back to the buffet Flynn – well, pretty much takes a step, that's about all it takes – loses traction and, after windmilling wildly, clings to the nearest bystander by reflex, stumbling sideways.

And into the nearest pool. Sorry!]

1 - Paranoia

[ Unsurprisingly, Angel hasn't been to anything remotely like a spa before. Jack might have had one fitted to her underground bunker if she'd requested it, but somehow she never thought to ask. Tsk. Look at this fucking spa noob.

She still knows how they work, of course, but she also knows how Norfinbury works. Nothing this good comes without a catch. There has to be something sinister about all this, right? Like anomalies in the piping. Or corpses under the floorboards. Or maybe the spiders are all just waiting for people to ditch their clothes in favour of fluffy bathrobes so that they can... steal the clothes and... patch up the admin's drapes with them...?

Okay, maybe not that last one. But still. That isn't going to stop her from regarding this entire venture with the utmost suspicion. ]

Hey. You think this is for real?

2 - Cucumber

[ Angel gives in eventually. The lure of floofy warm bathrobes is just too strong. RIP.

She plonks herself down on a conveniently placed lounger, lies back, and sighs in a thoroughly comfortable manner. A spiderbot even scuttles over and carefully places cucumber slices over each of her eyes. Maximum relaxation level: achieved.

Except she's incredibly vulnerable like this. Eyes covered? Half dozing off? She makes a prime target for anyone in the mood for mischief. But no one would ever be a shit to poor sweet Angel, right?

RIGHT?? ]

[Flynn gives Enoch a slow blink at the suggestion, glancing back and forth between him and the... oh God, are those spiderbots?]

No.

[With a nervous chuckle he brings up both hands, waving frantically because oh wow.]

Noooo, nono, no, I am not letting these things crawl over my-- What if one gets in my ear! Okay, maybe they're a bit big for that but who knows if they wouldn't try?

Edited (words how do they) 2018-01-10 21:34 (UTC)

I don't... maybe?

[Flynn's voice comes out belated, distracted. His train of thought is very similar to Angel's and it's hard to focus on a conversation when he has to do so much staring at what's presented to them. This can't be right?]

Though if all the computing power is going towards maintaining this I'm not too surprised everything else is falling apart...

[He looks around.]

Maybe it's a, um, rich thing? Sit here, watch everyone in the session suffer while you relax in a tub? Kind of like Ancient Rome and the circus. ... But with jacuzis.

[It's still pretty cute.

Possibly because Beckett doesn't entirely get the danger aspect. They didn't have jacuzzis in his mortal days. It's been a considerable amount of time since he'd last been in a pool. Has he ever been in a pool? Vampires mostly find hot water pointless at best, painfully frustrating at worst. Some kinds of fun you just can't have when you're a cold corpse. This really is new and exciting.

He's not going to linger long. But he does stand for a little while, in the fresh fluffy bathrobe that he would feel very silly about wearing if he were inclined to give a damn just now, and watches just for the curious pleasure of it. Look at how serene Enoch is. How happy. What could possibly go wrong.

Approximately 0.1 seconds after that thought, the wafting steam gets to him, and he doubles over with a sneeze loud enough to wake the dead.

Whoops.]

[Beckett is not actually in the mood for mischief. He's mostly in the mood to melt and perhaps sleep for a week, after a meal and a wash and the incredible discovery of jacuzzi technology. He's on his way to find a lounger of his own, possibly in pleasant company - which would hopefully not be too disturbed by the fact that he's currently wearing towel, albeit a well-secure one - when he wanders across Angel and the cucumbers.

Right. The cucumbers. Our intrepid scholar stops. A puzzle calls.]

Shouldn't you be... eating those?

That does sound plausi-- wait, no. In my experience, villainous observation rooms have huge screens for optimum viewing. The tablets just wouldn't provide enough detail - if you're going to go to this much effort to provide yourself with the best twisted voyeurism experience, you're not going to skimp on the most important bit.

[ All this is said completely earnestly and with no trace of humour. Having a tyrannical villain dad is THE WORST. ]

Maybe they did something to the food. Or perhaps there are anomalies hiding under the buffet table?

Huh?

[ Angel briefly considers clicking her fingers in the hopes of summoning another spiderbot to take the slices off her eyes for her, because that would be really cool. Like, imagine it. Imagine spider butlers bearing fancy cocktails with little umbrellas, too, actually. Maybe they're also wearing tiny spider bow ties?

Uh. Anyway, she doesn't actually do that. Instead, she yoinks the slices off her eyes herself and peers up at Beckett. There's something inherently wrong about him in a towel, yeesh. ]

Dude. No. That's what the buffet is for! You did see the buffet, didn't you?

[ OR DID ENOCH EAT IT ALL?? ]

Fucking Up

[ Turns out cyborgs and water do mix. Do they mix well, though? By the way Rhys is flailing in the deep end of a heated pool: the most likely answer is no. How’d he get there? Mystery. Why does a spa pool have a deep end? It’s a meme. However it happened, it happened, and Rhys’ head is below the water, body weighed down by a heavy robot arm.

He, uh. Might actually be drowning.

Help?

Point and laugh? ]

Robodad

Keep your thrusters off, buddy...

[ Before or after his harrowing bout of clumsiness, Rhys is sticking to the warmer, shallower pools. Dumpy is resting on a tray, floating safely atop the water and screaming many, many delighted screams.

Rhys looks like the proudest father ever as he slowly pushes the tray, eliciting an increase in scream volume. This is probably annoying to anyone else. They do not care. ]

[Well, Enoch thinks it's funny, at least. He gives the joke a chuckle through a half-full mouth before he swallows and offers her one of his sandwiches, so as not to be rude and hog all this food to himself (even though that's totally what would have happened if nobody else had shown up).]

There are worse fates. Do you like chicken?

[Is being fat even a bad thing? He's not sure how that's supposed to work, doesn't being fat mean you have a steady supply of food?]

Look at him!

[ Angel does not find the screams annoying. Angel thinks this is the most precious thing she has ever seen in her entire life.

Nobody should be surprised. ]

He's like a little sailor! Just like his...

[ Huh. What is Beckett to Dumpy? Grandpa? Is that too weird IT SOUNDS KINDA WEIRD. ]

...just like Beckett. But cuter.

Don't let him have nice things

[If he must be mortal, Beckett thinks, he might as well die happy now.

He's in a state of perfectly balanced bliss, stretched out in a hot pool, arms leaning back over the edge, head tilted down to his chest. Eyes closed. Breathing slow and blessedly clear in the hot steam. Every muscle slowly unknotting. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake and aware. He'd been suspicious at first, but he's just about given up. Fine. Fine. If this is a trap so be it. He cannot be arsed to care. He's fed, he's clean, he's warm. Let the bloody spiders come.

The spiders might not come, but it is a pretty golden opportunity for anyone else who might want to. There's even a pitcher of cold water nearby in case someone wants to cool off. Someone doesn't want to cool off right now, but you can't always get what you want in Norfinbury.]

[Fashionpire]

[Though he has a certain Clan reputation to uphold, Beckett is not a total pleb. He can appreciate a nice shampoo now and then. He knows how to use a brush. He might have had to get some incredible things out of his hair before. This was before he was mortal, though, and certainly before months of that in Norfinbury. He may not have to deal with a snowbo beard, but even after a shower, he's still looking rather like a drowned matted cat.

He's standing in front of a frankly unreasonable variety of soaps, brushes, and other instruments of a certain kind of torture, frowning as he test-runs a comb. Nope. That's in there now. Not coming out without pain. Why must there always be pain.]

I should just cut it all off...

[It's not blood, but...]

[IT'S FOOD AND THERE'S SO MUCH OF IT.

There have been exactly two positives in Beckett's Norfinbury experience. One of them is friends. The other is processed sugar. Just now he can't guarantee which he'd choose if it came to that.

The buffet is certifiably the closest thing his damned soul would ever see to heaven. There are things he recognizes and things he doesn't. There is carved meat, and five kinds of bread, and steaming soups. But perhaps most importantly, there is wine.

Beckett doesn't know much about human food anymore, but yeah, he knows wine. Several glasses thereof.

He's just about to slowly sink to the floor, all smiles, latest glass still in hand. Don't judge him, he can stop anytime. He just. Isn't going to.]

Dude, who doesn't like chicken. Except... vegetarians, I guess.

[ She takes the sandwich, but somehow Enoch's offer only makes his remaining sammich supply even funnier. Now it's her turn to snicker around a mouthful of food. ]

Just don't make yourself sick, okay? Projectile puking is Rhys' thing.

Edited 2018-01-10 23:04 (UTC)

[He'd just climbed out of that pool! Oh well. Back in he goes, with a librarian falling in with him. Of course, the first course of action is to try to haul said librarian to his feet or at least onto a bench or something. Which might not be as heroic as it sounds considering he's also trying to find his own footing at the same time.]

Are you all right?

Ah- I don't think they'd- why would they-

[What? Okay, never mind, this just sounds like a fear of spiders. He just hasn't, somehow, heard that particular one before. Despite raising several small children over the course of his life.]

Well...I didn't think everyone would enjoy the idea. I could help, if you'd like? I've had some experience with stiff backs and shoulders.

[He's warm. Fed. Clean. Everything a snobo could hope for. Everyone is enjoying themselves.

It's a perfect environment for a rest. His guard is down completely.

Which is why Beckett's sneeze wakes him with an utterly ridiculous splashy flail and he nearly falls off the ledge he's sitting on.]

Wh-what, what's- [he actually notices Beckett and instantly beams. Aww, look, he's having a good time too!] Oh, Beckett! I must have fallen asleep. This is a wonderful place...

Hot water pool cannonball

[It's a hot tub or pool something. It's hot. And a pool.

Peter's out of his clothes and down to his scrub undies, which can double as swim trunks, right? Either way, he's backing up and launching himself into the probably a little-too-shallow pool.]

CANONBAAAAAAAAAAALLLL--

Gun show

[No one in their right mind should give this man access to alcohol.

And apparently, there was a plethora of food and drink available. Peter's indulged, and readily.

Now he's stumbling through the hallways, shirtless, leaving watery footprints, dragging his towel and leaving a trail of empty bottles, occasionally showing off his biceps and washboard abs to any poor soul who accidentally looked in his direction. Sure, he's not as big as he'd normally be, and he's much leaner, but he doesn't even realize that right now.]

[Welp, time to do the hero thing. Enoch can't swim, but he can kneel down at the edge of the pool and reach out to try to haul Rhys up.

Just don't pull him in, Rhys.]

[When the incident at Babel happened, the language Enoch speaks was divided into a bunch that had no business being so closely related. The primary one, the one with the most similarities to the original? Has nine different words to describe wine.

So yeah, he's joining Beckett on the floor here with his own wine. He's already a little tipsy.]

How often do I see you smile like this? [He raises his glass.] To the things that make us smile, hmm?

Edited 2018-01-11 02:12 (UTC)

[Flynn comes up sputtering, coughing against the hot water that just went up his nose and clinging to Enoch until he regains his balance. Which is when he very unsubtly lets go and straightens up, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.]

Fine, fine, I'm. Fine. Um, are you, are you okay?

I actually have remarkable control over that reflex. You would be surprised what sort of things one needs to eat when attempting to survive in the desert for a handful of decades without any help from civilization at all.

[And despite the fact that he just alluded to having to eat something gross? Takes another bite of his current sandwich without a second thought. He must have really gotten acclimated to it.]

Ooookay. [You clearly know your stuff, Angel. He won't argue with your sadistic murder expertise.]

I guess you have a point there. [Which is sad, because if this really was some kind of twisted voyeuristic observation spa club, it would probably make it safe to use. Flynn glances up to the ceiling.] Maybe the screens are retractable.

[The food smells really good.] Do you think we should... I mean. Technically that would be another experiment, right? Take one for the team?

I'm all right. [Something in the water stings his eyes, but hey. Nobody lost consciousness or broke anything! That's a win in itself.]

What happened?

[He didn't quite catch much of anything - one second he was getting out of the pool and the next there Flynn was.]

No excuse but it's a -

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food!!

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backrub!!

Paranoia

idiocy!!

Cu...cumber.........

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Robodad!!

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dumb slapstick

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here to unfuck your fuckup

because they clearly need to get drunk together at every opportunity

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