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Etiquette, Monday

Obi-Wan grew a little more harried-looking every week of this class. Leaving the island was of no use, nor was avoiding places such as the Danger Shop. He had therefor bit the bullet and simply shown up to it again. He would simply have to use the Force as an umbrella if it decided to rain inside again.

There was an opulent spread laid out over a large table in the center of the room, though most of the dishes seemed... fragrant, or strangely shaped. At the head of the table sat a simulated man in blue and grey.

"Some days, one might be invited to a dinner party in a region one is not familiar with," Obi-Wan said. "Sometimes such regions have dishes you might find distasteful. We'll begin our unit on party situations simply, with a little exercise. How do you behave when such a dish presents itself? One must remain polite, yet sometimes one might be allergic to something present. Please navigate this simulation with care."

He took a step back.

Then he waited.

Just in case something would happen again.

Nothing did.

"Begin."

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Hungrily.

They're short. And nothing has happened yet.

Sit down at the table. There is alot of food, but most of it either smells funky, has a strange color, seems to be twitching, or looks weird.

As soon as the last student sat down, something changed. The food began to move more than it previously did. Then it grew exponentially in size.

Congratulations! You've met the elusive Alot of Food!

... many of them. There are many Alots of Food. And now they're causing an enormous ruckus on and off the dinner table.

Oops.

Of course this has happened while Obi-Wan is out of the room, and your NPC host looks very cross.

Better round up those Alots before they destroy too much of the furniture...

Obi-Wan stepped back into the room, a smile on his face. Nothing had go--

"Sithspit!"

Pretend you hadn't seen him curse.

Would Obi-Wan be headdesking after class? Yes.

Brainz.

Kathy Li

Kathy was listening, sure--but mostly she was keeping a weather eye out for...whatever weird thing was going to happen.

Kathy sat down, tucking the napkin into her lap, and surreptitiously kept an eye on the host to follow what he did.

Kathy already had a thing against Alots. So as soon as the food in front of her finished its transformation, Kathy was flinging herself up and out of her chair, holding her fork and her knife in front of her in case it decided to charge. Or cream. Or...something.

"Can someone give me a hand with this tablecloth?" Kathy asked. "I think if we can get it off the table, we can use it on the alots?"

Sorry, Sir Host. Unless someone was a magician, the china and glassware probably weren't going to survive the maneuver.

Garik Loran

Daphne Blake

Cosima Niehaus

Cosima sat down, spread her napkin in her lap, and stared at the food.

She wasn't doing anything until she saw what everyone else did. Besides, furry black pancakes that breathed were too mesmerizing to look away.

"Oh my god, what are these things?" Cosima wondered aloud,once she'd scrambled to a safe distance. Her tone sounded almost reverent.

It hadn't quite occurred to her that she should probably be fighting, not observing.

Tali'Zorah

This was going to be a useful class for her, Tali thought, since at least so long as she was in the Sol system she was going to have to find ways to be tactful about sorry I can't eat your food, it might kill me.

Assuming class went according to plan, anyway.

Statistically speaking, that didn't seem very likely.

Tali quickly scrambled out of the way and pulled up her omni-tool to scan the . . . things.

"Maybe this room is trying to kill us after all," she muttered. "But that's one way to solve the problem, I guess."

The food not being food, she meant. Not -- well, if the Danger Shop tried to kill them, it would get them out of the situation too, technically, but that would be far less preferable.

Kaylin Neya

"They're called alots," Kathy called, because far be it for her to let an opportunity to nerd out about something go by. "From what I can tell, they're made of, well, a lot of somethings? Mr. Spencer wrestled one in class a few weeks ago."

He'd been so excited.

"Do you think there's a proper social protocol for telling someone 'Sorry I broke all your dishes?'" Tali asked.

While, it must be noted, hurrying over to grasp the edge of the tablecloth.

"We send a polite note thanking them for the evening and apologizing, then pointing out that the alots probably would have done worse?" Kathy suggested, getting a firm grip on the cloth. "Count of three?"

"'Thanks for the opportunity to save you from rampaging --' I'm not sure about that one." Tali twisted her fingers into the cloth a little more, just to get a really secure hold, and nodded. "One, two --"

"'It's a dinner we won't soon forget?'" Kathy joked. "Three!"

They yanked. The tablecloth came free. The dishes and silverware and assorted decorations, however...

"Let's just hope those didn't have sentimental value?"

"And be relieved it's just a simulation," Tali added. "So . . . what's the plan? Throw it over as many of them as we can?"

"Maybe we can use it to try to, like, herd them into a corner or something?" Kathy said, chewing on her lower lip. "Kind of hold it between us like a really big net?"

Though using it as an over-sized budgie cover also made sense.

Soren, meanwhile, was trying valiantly (and ultimately failing) to hold in his laughter at the whole ordeal.

"And this is definitely 'alot of food,'" Cosima realized. "That's sort of gross and sort of fascinating."

Shooting geth was easier than this. To her mild horror, Tali almost missed that right now.

"I don't suppose they're likely to just . . . fall asleep if we cover them," she said, and ducked the fork that one of the Alots had just managed to send flying off the table somehow.

It embedded itself in the back of a chair.

"Oh, our host isn't going to like that. Okay, let's try the herding plan first."

"Imagine the alot of bugs," Kathy muttered. "At least this one isn't skittering."

Which, of course meant that one had to start heading down the table doing just that, on legs that looked like shrimp cocktails.

"...Sometimes I hate this island," Kathy said, sighing.

"Here goes nothing?" Kathy said, giving Tali a nervous V-sign. "Let's do this before more cutlery goes flying."

She pointed to the one that had sent the fork at them. "Start with that one?"

Maybe they could slide it off the table or something.

"Sounds good." Tali glanced at the Alot. "It's nothing personal, you understand, right?"

If it understood, it didn't seem to care. There was mischief to get up to, after all.

"It's kind of personal," Kathy muttered, since she had a slight grudge against alots. "When you're ready--"

Kathy pulled her half of the tablecloth taut and moved over to the other side. "We'll throw it over and just yank, yup!"

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Etiquette, Monday

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Listen to the Instructions

Sit Down

...And When The Last One Sits

Catch the Alots

At The End of Class

Talk to the Teacher and the TA

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