victormakesart | (no subject)

"Better not tell the Master; he'll cropdust the place with itching powder and film the results," she says, with a giggle. She rubs at her nose because just thinking about being itchy always makes you itchy. It's a fact.

He doesn't have a clue who the Master is, but he grins when he sees her rubbing her nose. "Exactly," he says, and taps the end of her nose lightly with his free hand.

Victor laughs, and then touches his nose very gently with the pad of her pointer-finger. "I'm too fidgety. Wouldn't last a day!"

"Any weird local laws I should look out for here?" he asks. They're nearly to the froyo place, but he's enjoying the stroll.

"Nothing too out of the box. Just the normal twenty-first century stuff. No, like, no public nudity, oh, and, um, just try to seem baseline human, is all. We've made vast strides, but people here don't take too well to anything meta. It's not a law, but it might as well be."

"Don't I seem 'baseline'?" he asks, genuinely not sure. His behavior would be normal for where he's from, and while he's received Time Agency training on etiquette and customs in the 21st century, it differs by region so much that it's always best to scout out the territory first.

"You totally do, or else I woulda briefed you before we left home," she assures him, reaching to squeeze his hand. "It's just one of the idiosyncrasies of this particular world."

"Even in my century, some people have issues with so-called 'impure' humans like me. They're in the minority by then."

"I can't wait 'til the day that bigots are the minority," she says, fervently.

Jack isn't sure that bigotry will ever fall out of fashion, but he refuses to spoil the mood, and looks ahead for signs of their destination. "Is this the place?"

"Yep! Looks like!" The bright, candy-colored sign makes the nervous pit in her stomach seem kind of comical. It's one of those serve-yourself places where you pay by weight, and you can put fruit in it, or nuts, or candy, or squishy things full of juice, or marshmallows. Basically anything sweet and edible.

Some of the things on display are so obscure that Jack has no idea what they are, but he's never been one to shy away from the unknown. "I don't have any twenty-first century money on me at the moment..."

"It's totally my treat." Victor will buy him fro-yo forever. He is straight up carrying her baby, yo!

"They've got little tasting cups so you can try it before you get a thingy of it," Victor says, leading the way to the dispensers and the little paper condiment cups.

Jack grins, showing off those pearly whites. "I'm not really known for testing things out first before diving right in." He bypasses the sample cups and simply begins to take a bit of everything. Yes, absolutely everything. Nuts, gummies, fruit, candy, the works. It's way too early for pregnancy cravings, he just likes to commit his whole effort to what he's doing. And apparently that applies to constructing froyo.

Victor chuckles. She hasn't felt this young in... well... in very nearly a rather long time. She could just kiss him. Though she probably won't. Maybe. Not a kiss-kiss, just an exuberantly-happy-and-expressing-it-kiss.

She goes with birthday cake flavor and white chocolate chips and those round balls with weird tropical fruit juice in it.

Jack's careful not to add too much of each thing, creating some kind of froyo sampler platter where all flavors are welcome but modest. "Frozen stuff isn't really something I've had much. Rose introduced me to ice cream a few weeks ago."

"Really? Wow, that's pretty incredible. Are you just, like, crazy about ice cream? I am." She can't imagine eating ice cream for the first time again, but if she did it would blow her mind.

"I wouldn't say I'm crazy about it, but it's good."

"I'm kind of a little too into sweets," Victor says, placing her tub of frozen awesome on the scale, indicating for the good Captain to do the same, then she reaches in her pocket for her money, folded into a small square.

He's not used to weighing food before you pay it, but he's excellent at copying local customs and blending in, so he plonks his container right next to hers. "Right, cavities are still a problem," he says, as if just remembering this bit of ancient trivia.

She slips the cashier a creased five dollar bill and three creased ones, and says, "Thank you," and grins at Jack. "Yeah. I've never had one, but I'm fastidious about dental hygiene. And, really, all hygiene. Though I'm down to only one or two showers a day, so."

"I've been a soldier before so I can deal without if I have to," Jack says with a shrug, picking up his container once it's been weighed properly, "but I much prefer to keep myself looking good. It's my best asset."

"You'd look amazing even if you were covered in grime," Victor says, and from her it's high praise.

"Hey, in some places mud can be very restorative," he says with a grin. "Keeps you looking young."

"Ha! I've never tried it. Always seemed kinda counterintuitive to me." She leads the way to a table by the window, facing the door so she can keep an eye on the entrance. Old habits.