(no subject)

[imthepilot]

Bodhi's room is simple and narrow. Nothing more than a bed, a locker, a fresher and a writing desk.

There's nothing personal here. He has nothing. Owns nothing.

Is nothing.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

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.

[imthepilot]

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.

[cook_the_rude]

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.

[imthepilot]

"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."

[cook_the_rude]

"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."

[imthepilot]

"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.

[cook_the_rude]

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."

[imthepilot]

"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?"

[cook_the_rude]

"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."

[imthepilot]

"I enjoyed cooking for-" He cuts himself off and then starts again, "For Galen."

"What's it like? India?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Hot and dusty," Hannibal says. "With great deserts and deep green jungles. A country of over a billion people, very traditional in many parts, with incredible riches, crippling poverty, bright colours and amazing scents and stenches. There are beggars and temples everywhere, and many different languages spoken."

[imthepilot]

He nods, thoughtful as he eats a little more, carefully taking a slice of tomato. "Sounds a lot like Jedha, only with less people, less riches and no jungle."

[cook_the_rude]

"Do you have religions, pilgrimages and a mix of many different tribes and castes?" Hannibal asks.

He pours an aromatic herbal tea into the mug.

"Dairy animals roaming everywhere? Large, extended families sharing traditional homes?"

[ostro_goth]

There is a scratching at the door, a small but insistent sound.

[cook_the_rude]

"I wonder what they are bringing now," Hannibal says, going back to open the door.

[ostro_goth]

It's not rats, though, but the little black cat Myrrh, who rushes towards Bodhi.

[imthepilot]

Bodhi opens his arms to Myrrh, setting the bowl aside. "My little friend, I'm sorry. I lost track of you." He scratches behind her ears, hugging her gently.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal smiles at them.

"What a pity that cats only eat meat and fish," he says. "At least theoretically. I have known cats who disagreed."

[imthepilot]

Myrrh purrs and head butts Bodhi's chin, before arranging herself around his shoulders.

She gives Hannibal an harsh look.

"Meat and fish." Bodhi nods, glad to know that. "Thank you. At least I know what to feed her now.

[cook_the_rude]

"They like milk and cream as well, some even cheese or bread or olives," Hannibal says. "Olives are small, savoury fruit. Some cats react intensely to it."

[imthepilot]

Bodhi nods, scratching Myrrh softly. "Thank you."

He reaches out for a slice of red vegetable, careful not to dislodge Myrrh. "Tomato?" He asks, wanted to confirm he has the word right.

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes, that is right," the doctor with Galen's voice says. "They even gave you a special tomato knife to cut it. It cuts the cucumbers as well, of course. It's not that specialised "

[imthepilot]

You can almost hear the cogs turning in Bodhi's head and he examines the slice, looking at the structure of the seeds. "What makes the blade specific to this vegetable? The skin isn't particularly tough."

He takes a bite, pulling a slightly fact at the acidic flavour but chewing thoughtfully.

[cook_the_rude]

"But the inside is soft," Hannibal explains. "If you have an unserrated and slightly blunt knife, you squash the inside before you break the skin."

[imthepilot]

"Ah, I understand." Bodhi nods, seeing the sense in that. He doesn't go back to the curry just yet, letting the flavour of the tomato settle. "They must grow in water rich worlds, to be so soft skinned and full?" He muses the question more to himself than to Hannibal.

Talking about food, Bodhi becomes more engaged, more alert. As if lights are coming on behind his eyes, neurons firing.