In High Spirits (Irvine)

With some downtime after Dale's arrival at the lab and a desire to take a walk along the streets of the Middle Ward, Milton was in search of something to do to satisfy his curious nature. He hadn't taken the time to check a few blocks on the Middle Ward that had gone through renovations since he last visited. Apparently there was also a quaint restaurant in the block Milton had yet to view, so why not satisfy both desires with a visit to this restaurant.

High Spirits was the name of the restaurant Milton was now standing outside of, tying his scarf so that it wouldn't drag too close to the ground. Milton took a moment to examine the outside appearance of the restaurant before entering through the front door. The word spirits would indicate he was too young to be drinking at such a place, but as long as he abided by ordering non-alcoholic drinks, he would likely be allowed to eat there. Milton would search for either a counter to approach for an order or a waiter to show him to his seat.

There was, perhaps, another reason for the restaurant's name.
Walking in, the arrangements weren't so different from many other restaurants as far as the way it was furnished. There was some light chatter as people talked away at their tables, people seeming to feel free to talk away freely, their voices never going to so loud that it would disturb the casual atmosphere. Swirling, intricate patterns covered the walls, red, blue, green, brown, white and purple coming together to make a variety of patterns that presumably originated from the homeworld of the owners. The lighting was similarly set up to be more atmospheric, a low, warm tone washing over the inside.

There were a couple of unique touches, though. Some of the tables seemed to be able to see into the kitchen, allowing people to see the kitchen staff at work. A lick of flame creeps out as a couple watch what was presumably quite the display.
The other thing to note was that the food seemed to be delivering itself to the tables once it was set down. What appeared to be carved stone trays would float over to their corresponding tables once orders were set upon them, dishes then lifting off to set themselves down before the tray floated back to its prior place. Very few of the orders seemed to be delivered by hand, and there in fact only appeared to be two members of staff going about the place, a man and a woman.
There were no signs of any technology Milton would recognise as such.

It's not long before one of the two staff members comes to see to Milton.


"Sure thing!" The man grins wide, gesturing for Milton to follow. "Come on, let's get ya a seat."
Directing Milton to one of the free tables, he gestures towards the bar and a menu comes flying through the air towards him, which he catches easily in one hand before passing it to Milton. "Call me back when you know what you want. Things aren't too busy, so no pressure." Putting two fingers to his temple and then offhandedly saluting off of it, he walks off to go check on the other patrons of the restaurant.

With Milton's eyes following the swirling colors printed on the walls before curiously staring at the trays that hovered from table to table without the need for servers, he hadn't noticed the man approaching him until he decided to speak up. Something about the man's attire seemed faintly familiar to Milton, but he couldn't place what was so familiar about it.

Milton kept an eye on his apparel as he walked with the staff member over to a table of his selection, catching a flying menu with a simple snap of the hand to pass to Milton. Milton immediately got to looking over the dishes on the menu, using his acquired knowledge on the flavors of the ingredients by each dish if they were listed. Otherwise, it would just have to be a guess. No matter, Milton had a fairly accepting palette when it came to food, so trying something new to eat would benefit him whether or not it was tasty to him or not. In less than a minute, Milton had his hand up to get the man's attention for his selection of foods, his scarf resting on the back of the seat, leaving part of his black label visible on his back just below his shoulders...

"Hmm... I'm not familiar with these dishes. Hope these are good. Hello, sir. For the appetizer dish, might I ask your opinion of these poppadoms? Is there a prevalent flavor when it comes to these? For the main dish, might I order some 'dansak' with a chai tea to drink?"

"I do like your apparel, though. Is it uniform for the establishment or your personal style of clothing? I can't help but think it looks familiar to me..."

Irvine's quick to come back over as Milton calls for his attention.

"Poppadoms? Right." With a flourish, he produces a notepad from his right pocket, flipping it open to a blank page with a flick of his wrist as he grins wide. "Couple of poppadums is always good for a snack. Light and crisp. Normal ones have a plainer taste, the spiced ones have a little bit of a peppery kick, and either way there'll be a pickle tray so you have a few things to top them with. Always good to get a cou - one moment." He turns and points over to a tray floating by. "Hey!" It stops. "Get that one back, you've got the wrong order." A sudden draft blows by before the tray starts heading back, Irvine shaking his head. He tilts his head back to Milton. "Some people, huh?"

He turns to face Milton again. "As I was saying...always good to get a couple in my book. Your call, though." He shrugs, and starts jotting things down with his left blackened left hand. "Just let me know if you want any. So, Chai tea, and...Dansak. What type? Vegetable, Chicken, Lamb? We can check for something else if you have any particular tastes or dietary needs, but we aren't going to have everything."

"My outfit?" He grins wide, briefly striking a pose. "All me, baby! Who knows why you recognise it, maybe that designer girl decided my style's the one to follow." He holds his grin a moment, before..."Pffft. Yeah, right! She never leaves home, and I'm pretty sure the snooty bastards up top would blow a fuse if I turned out to be the latest fashion!"

With Milton's analyzing eyes and ears taking in all the details this waiter was giving him considering his choice in food, jumping a bit with his sudden shout to the floating tray that was apparently going to the wrong table. Looking over how many poppadoms Milton would be able to order for a simple appetizer without busting his wages from the doctor, Milton answered his inquiries and decided to ask a few in return, part of the skin around his face seemingly shifting for a second like sand from a dune.

"I'm sure it was a simple mistake. The technology to deliver trays without physical assistance is quite impressive on its own, but there's usually error within any form of technology, human or mechanical. Anyways, if your recommendation is an order of several, I'd like an estimate on their size. No use spoiling the main course after all. To be safe, I'll take... three? Yes, three is likely an acceptable amount. As for the dansak, I'm curious to try out lamb. I don't have particular dietary needs; I can practically stomach anything."

"So your design of outfit is uniquely styled? It's not from Junction where I recognize it; someone from my home world had a particular... style of his own when it came to clothing, though your personality is much more agreeable than his was. If you don't mind me asking before you go, can I get your name? Mine's Milton... depending on who you ask."

For some reason, Irvine looks incredibly amused by Milton's technology comment. "Oh, I know it was a mistake. These things happen. But that thing's not getting there by itself, you know." He laughs, as if in on some joke Milton wasn't privy to, before quickly getting back to business and jotting down his order. "About the size of one of the plates going round, though about as thin as your nail. I'd worry more about how much you load on them, but I'm betting you'll be fine." He's long since finished writing before he's a few words in, and he looks over to Milton. "Right then! So, chai tea, three poppadoms, and a lamb dansak. That everything?"
...looking at the menu, rice is ordered separately from the main dishes. Chips and other assortments of more homeworld specific accompaniments are listed too.

Irvine gives Milton a nod. "Thaaaat's right. Though, that ain't to say it's pulling from nowhere. Check her out, for one."


He thumbs over at the other staff member running around the restaurant, currently gesturing over at one of the other tables. "Thaaat's traditional wear back home, at least for me and my friends. Not exactly the same, but similar sort of stylings." With his free hand, he tips the front of his cap. "Keep the colours myself, but I'm pretty sure you can notice this ain't quite like what she's wearing."

Putting his hands in his pockets, he nods to Milton and grins wide. "Irvine. Good meeting ya, Milton. Sure people might call you something else, but I'm guessing if that's the name you're givin' me, that's the name you actually want people to use."

Milton cracked a light smile in the hopes that Irvine would think his comment was a bit of a joke rather than a statement that would make Milton look foolish. With the description of the size of the poppadum compared to the size of his plate, Milton traced out the rim of his plate and rubbed his chin. How thin were this wafers to allow them to be this big yet ordering several of them was considered a mere dessert? As thin as a nail? At the very least, he could bring leftovers to Anni or Dr. Klein if this proved too much for him to process. With a reassured nod and one last look over the menu, Milton flipped it around in his palm to hand back to Irvine.

"Yes, that should be enough for me. If I need more, I'll be sure to get your attention. Leftovers can always go to my friends at home. Anyways, I like the style your planet traditionally prepares. Back home, the style of clothing usually depends on what nation you're visiting. Outfits with this kind of design don't usually show up outside of the city I'm from... well, the city I moved to, anyways. Sure beats the uniform they'd have me wear."




"Irvine, huh? A fine name for a helpful sir such as yourself. Yeah, Milton's the name I prefer to go by outside of Orbis. The other name they assigned me was... well, it doesn't carry positive memories. Anyways, I'll leave you to go about your business. I look forward to the meal."

Irvine takes the menu with his free hand, and tosses it back in the same manner he got it in the first place, it landing exactly where it came from. "Gotcha." He scribbles down the marker for the table, tears the sheet with the orders on free, and quickly...folds it into a paper aeroplane. He tosses the tiny paper plane off in a random direction, and it seems to drift into the kitchen by itself.
He quirks a brow for a moment as the uniform is mentioned, but with a shrug, it's gone.
"Hey, if it works, it works. I didn't get to look this good by wearing what people told me to. Not gonna say those two don't wear the things well, but the traditional wear ain't for me."

Something flashes across Irvine's eyes as Milton mentions being assigned another name. It's gone as soon as it came, though. "Good thing I'm not calling you the other one then, isn't it? Poppadums and the chai should be up before long. I'll leave you to it."
Irvine leaves to attend to the rest of the restaurant's business.

True to his word, the poppadums arrive quickly on one of the trays, the plate holding them placing itself onto the table alongside a smaller, empty plate that places itself in front of Milton. They're about as thin as described, if only minutely thicker, the uneven discs easily broken into pieces. Alongside them is a selection of four accompaniments - chopped onions, mango chutney, a strange orange mix of what seem to be pickled items, and a white, yoghurty looking sauce. After unloading itself, the tray returns to its place.
...the poppadums a lot less filling than would have expected just from the size.
Still probably a good thing there's only 3.

Shortly after, Irvine stops by with Milton's tea. "Sorry 'bout that. Shoulda been with the rest, had a slight delay."

Milton's eyes followed the folded airplane order paper, leaning back in his seat to watch it soar off into the kitchen. Irvine was giving off short reactions to Milton's discussions, raising a brow to his discussion of the uniform and getting some idea based on Milton referencing his model number as his "other name". It would give him a mini heart attack for a random stranger to call him by his model name, but considering how it was printed on his upper back and peeked the very top from outside his shirt collar, anyone who could see more of his back would be able to learn it. With the ideas in mind, Milton nodded to Irvine before he returned to running the restaurant.

:Yeah, that's why I share my preferred name around here. The less people who know it, the better for me at least. I'll leave you to your business."

As soon as the poppadoms arrived, Milton grabbed one to tear apart only for it to shatter like a plastic plate into shards. Milton began his systematic taste testing with a bite of the plain platter piece. It certainly was plain, a flat but pleasant taste in his mouth. It made sense why they offered topping for such an item. Then came the pieces individually dipped in the provided pickle tray. The chopped onions were okay, the mango chutney was definitely growing on Milton as he savored the taste with multiple chips, and the white yogurt sauce got a satisfactory nod out of him. As Milton started breaking the other pieces into more pieces, organizing the pieces by size with surprising speed, he turned to accept the chai tea.

"It's no trouble, Irvine. These are delicious poppadoms. What's this orange dip made of? It's very delicious, and there's the taste of some kind of fruit in it. The equivalent based on Junction's residents... I think it's called mango. Spicy mango?"

Irvine gave an amused smirk as he noticed that the newest face at the restaurant had organised the poppadom pieces. Might just be that he didn't need to attend to things himself so much with all the help, but he hadn't seen that before. "Glad you're enjoying 'em. And yeah, mango's the one. Not spicy itself, but it's been spiced. Surprised you noticed, most don't." He shrugs with one shoulder. "Not what we would have used back home, but that stuff takes ages to be ready. Lucky enough to bring some over, but it'll be a loooong time before we can use any."
He briefly laughs to himself, shaking his head. "Same for a lotta stuff, really. Just gotta make do, don'tcha?"

Milton couldn't help but give a satisfactory 'yes' as he pumped his fist with Irvine's reaction to his ability to recognize the mango in the mixture. Ever since he had a taste of strawberry ice cream that reminded him of fruits from home, Milton's been cataloguing the different flavors prevalent in food found on Junction so that he can find new foods he'd enjoy the most. Being able to pick out certain flavors in a mixture thanks to sampling them individually has certainly expanded his palette.

"Really? Well, thanks for your compliment on my ability. I have a fairly expansive palette, so I'm always looking for new flavors to get familiar with. Yeah, you take what you can carry on your back and find a way to make the rest. Part of my home city got taken by Junction, but we lost quite a lot of power access. We needed to make new generators to even keep the repair shop open. So, if you don't mind me asking, what's life on your home planet like?"

"Well there's none of this for a start." He waves a finger round at all the lights - then suddenly points at one of the lights as it starts to dim, giving it an unimpressed look until it returns to normal. "Either we did things by hand, or...we got help with getting things done." He smirks. "It was the job of folks like me and my friends to make sure that last bit happened. Hell, we still get help now running this place." He lets out a snort of amusement. "It's happening right now. Really saves on electricity."

Irvine's eyes flick off to the entrance as the door opens. "Looks like I can't chat right now. Gotta run." He moves off to greet the new party.

The tray is back shortly after Milton's finished with the poppadoms, the plates and assorted toppers loading themselves back on before being taken away.
There's more of a wait after that than there was for the poppadoms, but eventually another tray arrives from which a dish then unloads itself onto Milton's table. The dansak, presumably. It appears to consist of a darker brown sauce with more whole pieces in them - the lamb, naturally, as well as what appeared to be potato and some smaller pieces of something with a slight sour tang to it. Nothing pronounced, but definitely present, and it brought out a slight sweetness to the sauce.

Again, Irvine would stop by a little after the food was delivered, giving Milton a little time to get started with his dish.


"Hey, what do you know, I'm back again. All good, Milton? Need another drink or anything?"

"Curious..." was all that came out of Milton as he stared up at the light Irvine was pointing to before they were separated once more by the latter's job. Milton took this time to sample his lamb dansak, spoon stirring around in the sauce while he took a sip of his drink. The spiced tea was alright, though Milton preferred his white tea back at the lab in comparison. First came the sampling of the sauce, the sweetness of the sauce tickling his taste buds. He'd have to see just what this sauce had in it to taste sweet yet savory with the lamb chunks.

When Irvine came back, Milton was already scooping up large amounts of the dansak, stacking up several pieces of potato and lamb on a single scoop each time. Taking a second to swallow the food in his mouth, Milton passed Irvine the quarter full glass of tea.

"Welcome back. I'm doing excellent. This sauce is delightfully sweet. I can see why rice would be paired with it. Probably should have considered ordering some with it... nah, you don't have to get any for me. I'm almost done anyways. What are these bits here? They taste a bit sour, but it's the good kind of sour that melts with sweet."

"Oh, those we did manage to get over." He says, taking the glass. He holds it out til another tray drifts by, setting it down without really looking in the first place. "We called 'em Ancestor Fruit back home. Most bitter thing in existence normally, but you wouldn't believe the flavours you could coax out of them..." He pauses. "Given, if you tried you'd only ever get one of 'em, but you're never going to have what we've got to work with here. You ah..." He smirks. "You wouldn't have a ghost's chance of seeing what they have to offer yourself."

Milton raised an eyebrow to Irvine's explanation of the Ancestor Fruit. A bitter fruit that could bring out more flavors depending on preparation methods? Sounded exactly like what the people of Blume would have loved to harvest. The closest they ever got to Milton's knowledge was a Stellberry, a star-shaped berry plant that grew sweet blue berries in warm environments and sour red berries in colder environments. Perhaps Milton would have to look into the preparation of these Ancestor Fruits.

"Well, that's quite the description of these fruits. I must say, if the possibilities are as numerous as you hint, it could prove useful for me to look into later. You're not the only one with the resources to figure out more about these little Ancestor fruits. Anyways, I think I'm feeling plenty full right now. I'll be sure to stop again sometime. Maybe we can talk when you're not busy with other customers. Let's see what the damages are..."