Oh good, Edgar is a vinegar man. Max looks so pleased.
"I wasn't sure if you'd like pickled stuff, but if you do, I've got tons of other ones for you to try some time." Like actual pickles.
"Looks like you're getting the hang of it now. Let's try a roll."
Max will gingerly maneuver a couple of different ones onto his own plate. Then he pours out a small helping of soy sauce into a side dish and demonstrates how to lightly dip them. He pops it into his mouth and moans with delight.
"Mmmm," mouth still full he says, "crab. I like crab a lot."
Oh, that's a nice sound Max just made. Edgar's briefly distracted, but it isn't hard to return his attention to the food. A piece with a filling of dark red and bright green attracts him; he fumbles his first attempt to pick it up with chopsticks, and resorts to fingers. A quick dip in the dark brown liquid, and he follows Max's example and pops the whole thing into his mouth.
His own mmm is no less wholehearted than Max's. He recognizes the flavor of the avocado, but it's combined with so many other rich textures and tastes, sweetish and rich and tangy and salty. It's like nothing he's ever put in his mouth before.
Before he's even finished chewing, he's reaching for another, this one a slab topped with bright orange. "What kind's that? And this?"
Maybe later Edgar, finish your lunch first before you go thinking of dessert.
Max, thankfully, is not as easily distracted today. He's more caught up in the current joy of showing Edgar new things. It's fun watching the myriad of expressions cross Edgar's face while he experiences all those mixed flavors and textures.
"That one is salmon. And the one you just had, I think, is tuna. The salmon one might be good with a little wasabi. Do you like spicy things?"
It might be time to introduce Edgar to the 'less is more' principal again with wasabi.
“Uh. The other kind, probably. More like this one burns in your nose a lot.” Mouth too, but he’s always felt horseradish and other such things in his nose, personally.
“See this little pile of green stuff?” Max taps a chopstick on the mound of wasabi at the edge of the boat. “That’s the spicy stuff. People sometimes put a little bit on their fish for extra flavor. I do mean a little.”
He peers at the pile of green stuff, which he realizes now he'd mistaken for more avocado. "Like how much do you mean a little? There's only a little there."
Cautiously, with one chopstick, he scoops up the tiniest dab of the green stuff -- barely enough to cover the tip of the stick -- and sniffs at it. His eyebrows go up and his nose twitches a little at the pungency, but it ... doesn't smell bad, exactly.
Another sniff, and the most cautious dab, and a pause as he rolls it around his mouth and swallows.
"... Aaaah," he says after a moment, slightly hoarse and blinking, and then sniffling hard. "Fuck me, you weren't kidding --" and he fumbles for the glass of water.
"Hold up, didn't say that --" He raises a finger, and a chopstick, in a wait-one-moment gesture while he grabs a napkin with the other hand to wipe his nose.
"It's good, it's just fuckin strong. So no by itself, but a little bit with the fish ... maybe?"
Well, well. Maybe someone is a spicy food lover after all. That gives Max some more fun ideas for later.
"Yeah. Give it a try as intended. The rice cuts the burn down a lot. Dab a little under the fish here..." Max demonstrates by peeling a plank of salmon up off a mount of rice, adding some wasabi, then putting it back. "Then enjoy.
"I really like it that way." He finishes by popping the thing in his mouth and chewing with delight. Mm. Yeah. Just the right amount of kick.
Edgar imitates the demonstration as best he can, smearing a little dab of wasabi on his own piece. "So is this instead of the brown sauce, or do you do both together?"
"That's entirely up to you," Max answers with a shrug, and with his mouth still half full.
He swallows and continues. "I think that's my favorite thing about food and flavors, it's all a completely unique experience. You get to tailor it to your own tastes."
He gets a sudden look on his face then, like a light bulb going off. "Oh, speaking of tailor, do you need help picking out your outfit for the prom?"
"Prom. That's a type of party usually thrown for teenagers by their school. People ask their dates out for it and dress up to go dance the night away." Though, he can see already where that might be a problem for Edgar.
"Daisy is throwing it and you don't have to be a teenager to go for this one. Actually, she said it's going to be '80s themed, so that means we can dress as crazy and informal as we want. The '80s were a wild time."
"Yeah, it might actually be pretty similar. Maybe with a little more formal attire and a few less games."
It might be a tiny bit like the second half of Max's birthday party too, if it's anything like a real prom, but hopefully just in the dark corners or the bathroom.
"People sometimes ask each other to go as dates to the prom too, but that's not mandatory. I'm sure Rowan, Lucas, and I will all go together as prom dates."
"I know. I know." Max says in response to that look. "You don't have to wear formal attire. There's other stuff you can wear instead. I can help you pick something out."
The subject of Edgar and dates is a... delicate one still, he knows. Max is trying to get a read on where his friend is at on that. This time, though, he won't couch it in some other excuse.
"Dunno." He shrugs, reaching for another piece with tuna and avocado in it so he won't have to look right at Max. "Do I need to go with someone, or could I just meet up with people there?"
Max tries really hard to suppress the bright expression in his eyes when Edgar asks that but he just can't do it. So, Edgar might be a little sweet on Ren, huh?
"Yeah, dude. I'm pretty sure Ren's gonna come. And if she does, you should ask her to dance. It looked to me like the two of you hit it off pretty well before."
"Uh-huh. Well, it's a small city so I'd say the odds of running into each other, at the dance or otherwise, are pretty good." Act all you want, Edgar, Max isn't fooled.
"Absolutely. I'd love to help you pick something out."
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"I wasn't sure if you'd like pickled stuff, but if you do, I've got tons of other ones for you to try some time." Like actual pickles.
"Looks like you're getting the hang of it now. Let's try a roll."
Max will gingerly maneuver a couple of different ones onto his own plate. Then he pours out a small helping of soy sauce into a side dish and demonstrates how to lightly dip them. He pops it into his mouth and moans with delight.
"Mmmm," mouth still full he says, "crab. I like crab a lot."
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His own mmm is no less wholehearted than Max's. He recognizes the flavor of the avocado, but it's combined with so many other rich textures and tastes, sweetish and rich and tangy and salty. It's like nothing he's ever put in his mouth before.
Before he's even finished chewing, he's reaching for another, this one a slab topped with bright orange. "What kind's that? And this?"
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Max, thankfully, is not as easily distracted today. He's more caught up in the current joy of showing Edgar new things. It's fun watching the myriad of expressions cross Edgar's face while he experiences all those mixed flavors and textures.
"That one is salmon. And the one you just had, I think, is tuna. The salmon one might be good with a little wasabi. Do you like spicy things?"
It might be time to introduce Edgar to the 'less is more' principal again with wasabi.
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“See this little pile of green stuff?” Max taps a chopstick on the mound of wasabi at the edge of the boat. “That’s the spicy stuff. People sometimes put a little bit on their fish for extra flavor. I do mean a little.”
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Cautiously, with one chopstick, he scoops up the tiniest dab of the green stuff -- barely enough to cover the tip of the stick -- and sniffs at it. His eyebrows go up and his nose twitches a little at the pungency, but it ... doesn't smell bad, exactly.
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He fills Edgar's cup from the tap and readies it for him. Moment of truth?
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"... Aaaah," he says after a moment, slightly hoarse and blinking, and then sniffling hard. "Fuck me, you weren't kidding --" and he fumbles for the glass of water.
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He reaches for a few napkins to pass over, and let Edgar dab his nose if he needs to.
"So, is that a no on the wasabi then?"
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"It's good, it's just fuckin strong. So no by itself, but a little bit with the fish ... maybe?"
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"Yeah. Give it a try as intended. The rice cuts the burn down a lot. Dab a little under the fish here..." Max demonstrates by peeling a plank of salmon up off a mount of rice, adding some wasabi, then putting it back. "Then enjoy.
"I really like it that way." He finishes by popping the thing in his mouth and chewing with delight. Mm. Yeah. Just the right amount of kick.
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He swallows and continues. "I think that's my favorite thing about food and flavors, it's all a completely unique experience. You get to tailor it to your own tastes."
He gets a sudden look on his face then, like a light bulb going off. "Oh, speaking of tailor, do you need help picking out your outfit for the prom?"
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And, after some effort to shove most of said mouthful into one cheek, he tries again. "Outfit for what?"
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"Daisy is throwing it and you don't have to be a teenager to go for this one. Actually, she said it's going to be '80s themed, so that means we can dress as crazy and informal as we want. The '80s were a wild time."
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"Huh. Is this gonna be anything like your birthday party? I mean, the first half?"
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It might be a tiny bit like the second half of Max's birthday party too, if it's anything like a real prom, but hopefully just in the dark corners or the bathroom.
"People sometimes ask each other to go as dates to the prom too, but that's not mandatory. I'm sure Rowan, Lucas, and I will all go together as prom dates."
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"Course you will," he says to that last, maybe a little too lightly. "I dunno, though, I haven't got anybody to go with."
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The subject of Edgar and dates is a... delicate one still, he knows. Max is trying to get a read on where his friend is at on that. This time, though, he won't couch it in some other excuse.
"Is there someone you might consider asking?"
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"No, you don't have to go with anyone. You'll see people you know there and have a good time with or without any official dates."
He leans forward a little aiming to catch Edgar's eye, "I'll save at least one dance for you. How does that sound?"
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And pauses, and asks in the idlest possible tone: "Think Ren might show up?"
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"Yeah, dude. I'm pretty sure Ren's gonna come. And if she does, you should ask her to dance. It looked to me like the two of you hit it off pretty well before."
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And as he dunks the sushi in soy sauce: "So yeah, think you could help me pick out something to wear?"
think we might be able to fade out soon on this?
"Absolutely. I'd love to help you pick something out."
i think so!