imthepilot | (no subject)

The doctor who isn't Galen looks around, and shakes his head.

"You can't even make tea here," he says.

He steers Bodhi to sit on the bed.

"I don't eat... drink much." Anymore.

He sits, looking up at the man who isn't Galen. The man who has not cause to know just how having Galen's eyes look down on him makes his heart clench.

The man looks down, kindly and worried, with Galen's eyes.

"You have to," he says, "even though you are dead. That's how Milliways works. I'm going to get you food and tea."

Bodhi only nods and holds his hand out for the datapad. He doesn't power it up but he does hold it, less like it's going to bite him than before.

The doctor goes to the door, whistles, and then tells some creature there what to bring.

Bodhi's gotten quite use to the rats. The Empire might be xenophobic but Jedha wasn't. He's quote comfortable with aliens.

When Hannibal comes back in, Bodhi's still sitting there, clinging to the datapad as if caught between holding into it like a lifeline and wanting to throw it across the room. Almost paralyzed be the conflicting emotions.

"Food is on its way, so is an electric kettle and what else you need for tea and coffee," Hannibal declares blithely. "It's always better to be independent in those matters."

He looks at the datapad. "Do you want to put that down for a moment?"

Edited 2017-02-06 10:31 (UTC)

It's never occurred to Bodhi he could ask for a room with a kitchen of his own.

He nods and opens his hands carefully, unfolding to sit the datapad very slowly on the desk.

"Try again later, after tea and food and sleep," the doctor with Galen's face says, kindly.

Bodhi nods and sits back on the bed, his knees pulled up to his chin. He keeps his hands tightly knotted, trying to keep them from shaking.

The doctor gets a glass of cold water from the fresher and offers it to Bodhi.

"Thank you." He takes it almost automatically and brings it to his lips. He doesn't drink so much as wets his lips.

"Drink," Hannibal says softly.

He drinks deeper, like a obedient child.

"Very good," the doctor with Galen's voice says.

Then, there is a knock on the door, and he goes to open it, coming back in with a cart.

Bodhi curls up again, nursing the glass. His hands are shaking a little more now.

But the smell of food helps. He cranes to see what's on the cart.

There is bread, and some sort of curry in a sauce, and a white cream of what may be dairy, and things -- red balls, a thick green stick -- that might be fruit. There is a mingled scent of herbs and spices.

The doctor wheels the cart towards Bodhi. On the lower tier, there are vessels and containers that are most likely involved in making tea.

Bodhi cranes at the trays, his nose twitching as he tries to work out the spices by the smells. He waits for Hannibal, following his lead as to how the foods are consumed.

Hannibal pushes the cart towards him, smiling helpfully.

"You might like the curry and the naan," he says, "but the tomatoes and cucumbers are probably new to you."

He takes a small, somewhat flimsy knife and cuts off a few slices of each. The red balls bleed some clear, viscous liquid end pale pink seeds.

"Just eat them raw with the rest of the food."

He puts down down the knife and picks up the tea things putting water to boil and selecting herbs for the tea pot.

"It smells similar to something I use to cook." He carefully takes the bowl and tastes a spoonful with care, analysing the taste. "I don't recognise the vegetables, no."

"The red balls are called tomatoes, and the green rod is a cucumber," Hannibal says, rinsing out a tea mug with his back turned to Bodhi. "In the curry, there are small green sticks called beans, brown bits of mushrooms, orange slices of carrot and red pieces of bell pepper as well as onions, which are the pale translucent semicircles. I got you a vegetable curry because I don't know if your culture eats meat, that is, dead animals."

Edited 2017-02-08 11:35 (UTC)

"Curry? Is that the name of the flavour or the way it's prepared?" Bodhi asks, clearly distracted by his interest in food. "I eat meat, when I can get it." He stirs the curry, to investigate the different vegetables.

Hannibal turns and smiles at Bodhi.

"Clever question," he says, approvingly. "It's actually both. Vegetables and optional fish or meat, cut up and prepared in a spicy sauce, is a curry; but the spices bases are also called curry. Curries are originally from a country called India, but in other countries, there is a ready-mades yellow spice mix with Indian spices in known as curry. And the next time, I'll make sure I serve you meat."

"You don't have to serve me." Bodhi shrugs, tearing off a piece of the flat bread, dipping it in the curry in very much the way it would be eaten in India.

"So curry is a blend of spices rather than a single spice? And does the blend vary between regions?"

"I like feeding people," Hannibal says. "And yes, the spices vary regionally, between dishes, and even from cook to cook. India is very creative with its spices."