Blind Dates: B TABLES.

[goldhearted]

What: BLIND DATES! Round 2.
Who: Anyone who was sent a note with the letter-number combination B#.
Where: Off-campus restaurant. AND BEYOND!
When: November 30th, eveningtimes.
Warnings: ???
ALSO, HEY, TAG YOUR CHARACTERS WHEN YOU REPLY TO THIS LOG. ♥

[The second group has been told to find some place somewhat out of the way. It's at the other end of the city, and maybe a little harder to find than the others. The dining room is bigger than it looks from the outside, though, and it's actually rather nice. There's quiet music playing overhead. There seems to be a little of everything on the menu, but it all does seem a little fancy. It's expensive, but it's not like you're paying, right?

It might have been smart to dress nice- but not too nice- for your date. At least that's what Gold suggested!

There's a candle at every table. Beside each candle, there is a card. On each card, there is a different letter-number combination.

Find your table!

And feel free to leave at any time, with or without your date.]

Comments

Re: TABLE B5: character whose name starts with W posts first.

[testgasm]

Things you probably shouldn't be asking:

1. Why is there a robot in this restaurant?

2. He has no legs, how did he get there?

3. Why is he sitting on this table?

4. He is a robot, how is he going to eat the food?

5. Who is he even talking to there is no one there?

6. Why won't he shut up??????

Shhh shhhh just go with it.

Oh, it's a.... shiny magnemite?

[flamejock]

A guy with white-blond hair comes up to the table and looks down at a card. He looks at the robot sitting at the table. The robot appears to be talking to himself.

"Hi, are you a magnemite?" Jock asks. "Do you know Blue? She's my trainer. I'm supposed to sit here. Is Blue here? Have you seen her?"

[testgasm]

Upon being addressed, the tiny robot's eye snaps to attention, shutters blinking a few times before he starts to talk again.

"Uh, no, not--one of those. Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that, though. No Blues here, either. Not that I can see, sorry."

[flamejock]

"Are you sure? I signed up for a date so I could make sure that mom's okay. Did you see that thing on the TV about the lady being killed? What if somebody tried to kill mom when she's on her date? I need to be there for her." As he said this, he scratched at the front of his bright red dress shirt. The angora rabbit he's evidently keeping underneath there is poking up out of the top of the shirt a little bit.

What a great date this guy seems to be.

[testgasm]

Somehow, the little metal eyeball manages to look confused, or about as confused as a little metal eyeball can look. It's surprisingly convincing--he is definitely starting to wonder if this weirdo human has some kind of live animal stuffed down his shirt.

"Positive. Haven't met a Blue, sorry. But if I understand how this works--"

Wheatley doesn't quite understand how it works, but that's not going to stop him from trying.

"--your number matches this table."

[flamejock]

"I know. I'm just looking to see if mom's here so I can watch out for her. That's why I signed up for this thing."

Jock sat down at his chair but kept looking around the restaurant.

"Does this place serve raw meat? Do you think they'd just give me a raw steak?"

[testgasm]

"Maybe if you asked?"

Wheatley had no idea, really. He only had a vague understanding of what this place was, to say nothing of actual food.

"They, ah. The put the menus there," and he gestured to it with a twitch of his upper handlebar towards the little books.

"Haven't taken a look. Can't, really, not that it would matter. Don't eat."

[flamejock]

"I'm pretty sure magnemites eat things," replied Jock, who clearly knew more about Wheatley than Wheatley did. "You should get something to eat anyway, even if you're not hungry. You don't have to pay for it. Do you like dry foods? I like dry foods. Dry's a hard flavor to find."

Jock grabbed a menu and looked at it. "What does it mean by a 'dry sawvignon blank?' Can I get that?"

[testgasm]

"Nnnoooo," he said, more than a little suspicious and narrowing his shutters into a squint to match. Wheatley didn't know what these magnemite things were, but he was already starting to dislike them.

"Not a magnemite, if you--if you didn't pick up on that, before. Don't get hungry. Don't eat. Physically incapable of it, in fact. They did tell me not to get any food or--or liquids in the old gears, so. Probably best that I don't."

He had never heard of a dry sawvingnon blank, to say the least.

"But, uh, I'm sure it's fine for you to order anything you like. I don't mind."

[flamejock]

"Are you some kinda... shiny electrode or voltorb?" Jock asked in confusion, still staring at the menu and trying to divine the meaning of 'sawvingnon blank' that was on this menu underneath the header 'libations.'

[testgasm]

"No, look, mate, I don't know what any of those are."

Did you know tiny robots could sound (and look) ticked off? Because that was happening.

[flamejock]

"You don't have to get so angry about it," Jock replied. "I don't know what you are. What are you?" he asked. "You sorta look like a bunch of different pokemon."

[testgasm]

"I'm not angry," he huffed, "I'm just a little confused, is all. I don't--never heard of a Pokemon."

[flamejock]

"Oh," said Jock, slightly mollified. "I'm a pokemon. I'm an arcanine. They're the best kind. I'll show you."

Jock eagerly set the menu down on the table.

And there was a sudden POOF of smoke.

[flamedog]

And now, sitting in a chair that is no longer anywhere near large enough for him (and rather awkwardly, I might add) there's a massive cream-and-orange tiger dog with a happy expression on his face sitting across from you.

He pants expectantly.

[testgasm]

Wheatley's tiny little robot brain was not prepared for this turn of events.

First, he screamed. If he had been sitting in a chair that he could violently push away from the table in a dramatic fashion, he certainly would have.

"Agh! Oh, god, you're a--dog."

[flamedog]

"And you're a ball who yells too much," said Jock, looking a little peeved for a giant, 6-foot-tall brilliant godbeast.

Only it sounded more like "Arf, arf, rawr, arf, arf, arf."

[testgasm]

Wheatley, unfortunately, did not speak giant tiger dog, and was altogether intimidated by this 6-foot brilliant godbeast to the point of abject terror.

"I don't--I don't speak dog, mate."

[flamedog]

Oh right. He's not a pokemon.

[flamejock]

There was another poof of smoke and instead of the precariously balanced giant tiger dog, there was just Jock sitting across the table from the little robot.

"I said, 'And you yell too much,'" replied Jock. "Because you do. And while I'm a dog, I'm an arcanine, which is the best kind of dog. AR-ca-nine," he repeated slowly.

[testgasm]

Wheatley seemed much less concerned with the fact that he was being vaguely insulted, foregoing offense in favor of shock and bewilderment. Because seriously, this guy had just turned into a dog, and back again.

"How did you--how'd you do that?"

[flamejock]

"I learned it from a TM disk a few weeks ago. It was an accident. But mom said I could keep the move if I wanted to. So I did, but now I have to go to school because mom says that pokemon who want to spend time like people have to go to class."

Oh well, that cleared everything up.

[testgasm]

That didn't explain anything at all! At the very least, Wheatley was starting to look less angry and more curious.

"TM? What do you mean by that, exactly?"

[flamejock]

"A technical machine! They're like computer discs, but they teach new moves to pokemon. Pokemon are super great animals that can learn a whole bunch of awesome fighting moves! My trainer is Blue! She's super nice and the best trainer ever. I'm a fire type! Mom likes fire types, 'cause we're the best kind. I can breathe fire! It's easy for me."

All things are easy for Jock.

As this conversation went on, Jock's face became less concerned and more... ecstatically happy to be able to talk about how great his mom and he were.

[testgasm]

Wheatley tried to follow along. He honestly did. But somewhere between talk of awesome fighting moves and trainermoms, the little robot got lost. Again.

"Wait, wait, wait. You've got to slow down. I didn't understand half of what you just said."