tushanshu | video;

[Howdy, network; have a slightly less scruffy guy! He seems to have cleaned himself up a little bit-- not quite as much stray stubble this afternoon-- and, unlike the vast majority of the network these last few days, appears to still be as biologically male and 30-something as ever. (He even remembered the prosthetic ear this time.) But he's not unaffected: not by far. He's lost his powers and couldn't be more thrilled. Turns out, not having awful psychic visions with your food is GREAT.

As opposed to last time's frustrations, Tony is... uncharacteristically happy. He's NEVER happy. At first losing the power was cause for alarm: checking the network and seeing the cause has put him a little at ease. May as well enjoy the "vacation". He's wearing a smile that, in spite of his attempts to stay cool, completely betrays the fact that he's restraining the urge to laugh and sing show tunes and all that cheery nonsense.]

So. [Tony beams.]

Does anyone know of any good places to eat around here?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's not repressed! It's...

[wow, it totally IS repression.]

It's being reserved. It's different.

[no it isnt.]

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Whatever you say, partner.

[Stops in front of what looks like a total dive.] Here we are.

[Tony huffs. A decade and some odd change have taught him that, sometimes, you just need to give up on trying to win with John.

This restaurant, though.] You sure that this place is good, John? It looks kind of. [Like shit.] Not totally put together.

[Tuts.] Tony, Tony. Surely you'd have learned by now that sometimes the best places to eat look like shitholes. Let's eat some real food now, and we'll find some hoity-toity upscale place that feed you a fucking pea on a plate for dinner.

You know I don't eat out much. [Or ever.]

But fine, I guess you'd know better. [He shrugs.] After you.

Yes, but seeing as you date a fucking food critic, I thought something might have sunken in... look who I'm talking to, I should have known better.

[A big grin.] Why thank you. [Leads him to a booth in the back.] I'd grab you a menu, but they don't have one of those foreigner friendly pictoral ones here. Just take a look around and order whatever looks good.

[he admits, a little bashfully:] Well, Amelia picks most of the places, so...

[Tony takes his seat and peers around: the food's pretty reminiscent of the sort of food his mom would make, which is a little easier, he supposes.]

That one. [He points at a noodle dish, piled with meat and vegetables.]

Great. [When the waiter comes over he orders the meal by name, as well his own, also by name.]

So, Ton, how long is this good fortune going to smile down on you? I want to know how many places I can drag you too before that stick goes firmly back up your ass.

[Tony notices. Must be a favorite of Colby's...]

Honestly, I've got no clue. Did you hear the girl on the network? It's some magic... thing, and I'm not sure how long whatever that was takes to fix.

[It is. The dive-y-er the place, the more likely Colby is to frequent it.]

Yeah but from listening to everyone else, it works sporadically. I mean, you didn't lose them right after she fucked up, right?

[Snorts.] ...Look at us, talking like this is normal.

I didn't. So I figure I may as well enjoy it, right?

[SIGHS HEAVILY and takes a sip of the water that's just been placed at their table. No microbe-sensing. It's glorious.]

Not like home's any better.

I don't think I've ever heard you say that before. Mainly because you don't enjoy anything.

[The sigh, though, is more your speed, Ton. He gives a small smile despite himself and stares off towards the bar.]

More normal than a teenage girl screwing up an entire city because she mispronounced something backwards. [And then he remembers Peter Pilaf, the asshole food whatever that Olive liked from Francis Bacon High School who threatened to blow up the world by uploading a recipe to the internet.]

...Okay maybe you got a point, but at least you cibo-freaks are in the minority. You and me are like the only two here that can't fly or shoot lasers or shit.

Edited 2013-10-27 01:26 (UTC)

I enjoy things! [no he doesn't.]

But you do have a point. It's kind of unsettling, if you think about it-- imagine how big of a mess their worlds are. No FDA or any other organizations there, either.

Don't even bother to lie to me.

Would you try to police that? [People with food-based powers are one thing, but people like Superman?]

[ROLLS EYES.]

Er... [Nnnnnoooo.] I'm sure there's something that could be done.

[Hah! As far as he was concerned, he finally got you to admit it.]

I'm all open to suggestions. [He goes quiet when the waiter brings them his food, and he digs in for a bit, giving Tony the thought that he was done with that line of thought. Only...] See Ton, now you understand how I feel all the fucking time.

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