like a big pizza pie (open)

[tradecraftdude]

who. Marco and you!
what. Delivery boy shenanigans.
where. Zeta District.
when. Right now!
warnings. How questionable can a 13-year-old get? (Don't answer that.)

[ Moving people's food around the district for them beats hauling rubble, though Marco could do without the cheesy delivery boy uniform. However, he approaches this delivery business with all the highly directed tunnel-vision of someone who has played lots of video games and knows how to scoot all over the map in the most efficient manner. Having to fake smiles and suck up for tips wasn't the worst thing, either. ]

(OOC: I have no preference between prose or action spam, so I will reciprocate whatever you start with! Scenario options are presented below, but you're welcome to start a new top-level thread with anything else if you have something in mind.)

Comments

[tradecraftdude]

"1875? Wow, no wonder you look like you got lost on your way to a movie set. I've only ever seen people dressed like that on television." This whole space kidnapping experience seemed to be just as much of a crazy time machine trip as it was a scifi plot.

Marco shrugs at the question while he peeks into the delivery bag with a grimace. "I'll live, but I can't say the same thing for my friend in here. Why can't you eat pizza? Don't tell me you're allergic, 'cause that would be a terrible tragedy."

[professorwolf]

"The combination of tomato sauce with the proliferation of breads," Lyall shrugs, his own self. "I have rather particular dietary needs, I'm afraid. I am largely carnivorous, with some limited allowance for dairy and simple carbohydrates." Marco is lucky he even knows what pizza is, to be honest; he's picked it up since his arrival here.

He winces at what the proper response would be, despite the depleted state of his funds here. "Do you need the product... replaced?"

[tradecraftdude]

"Bummer, dude. Is that like the opposite of vegetarianism or something?" Marco's being pretty sensitive here, especially as he peels out a completely unpresentable piece of crust covered in red paste and garlic powder and starts to munch on it; the cheesy top had stuck to the inside of the box."And don't worry about this, I'll just go back and write this off as a mugging loss. There's a bit of sausage stuck to the cheese if you want some, though."

For someone who was just nearly shanked, Marco's surprisingly calm, but he just got himself a free pizza and his savior was such a strange guy that he felt bad busting him over this mess. He offers the bag to Lyall.

"The name's Marco, by the way."

[professorwolf]

Normally, Lyall would be above that kind of scrounging and probably not too keen on the cooked nature of the meat... but he's had so little that's remotely fresh lately, that he's not going to turn that down. "If you have no qualms parting with the sausage, then certainly, and you have my gratitude." He accepts the bag and opens it to daintily pick through the cheese for the meat.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Marco. I wish it could have occurred under more pleasant circumstances." Though to him? This is the most pleasant it's been in a while. Mmmm, sausage.

[tradecraftdude]

"Least I can do because you like, saved my life and all, right?" Because it isn't as if Marco's in a position to offer anything better; this is about as close to a thanks as Lyall's going to get.

"And come on, I'm definitely not a 'mister'. If any of us is a 'mister', it's you, Mister."

[professorwolf]

"Everyone is 'mister', who is not nobility or some form of constablry," Lyall corrects with a little smile. "At least in my world. Calling someone so familiarly by a name without a title is terrible rudeness, unless you are close enough friends to do without."

He pauses, and the smile grows faintly teasing. Obviously, he's aware of how he sounds, and how uncommon his manners are. "I could call you young master, if you prefer."

[tradecraftdude]

"Okay, well, where I'm from, misters are figures of authority that you want to at least pretend to be polite to. Or you're being sarcastic."

He grabs another fistful of squished pizza, and is now getting grease everywhere. Oops.

"Anyway, 'young master' is gonna make me think that you're like my butler or something, so unless your name is Jeeves, that's going to be kind of weird. Can't you just call me Marco, and I'll call you Mister Whatever-Your-Name-Is and we'll both be happy?"