uncertain_dume | Milliways, Sunday Evening

Kanan was actually getting used to living on the island and getting his fill of excitement by leaving to explore whatever was on the other side of the Causeway, and he couldn't help but be curious of the place with the spaceport lot that went on for damn near forever. It had taken him a little bit longer before he realized that the bill for the restaurant was already handled. And, well, when he came to that realization, there wasn't anything keeping him from visiting to have himself a meal on the school's tab, was there? So, over he went, curious but relieved to see another stopover where the locals were more diverse than just humans. A place with very little sentient non-human life just struck him as wrong.

It kind of freaked him out a little.

... Not as much as the conversation with the main course did, though. He was actually looking a little green by the time they wheeled the somewhat dejected creature away from the table. There had been a salad on the menu. Kanan was going to stick with that. It would be a while longer before he managed to pick something to drink, though. He was pretty sure they were using the other two volumes of the wine list to bludgeon somebody's casserole to death in the back room or something.

[OOC: I can't resist a good gnab gib. Open if you're wandering about at the end of the universe! NFB for off-islandness, though.]

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"The meat was very polite," Kanan replied, shaking his head in bemusement. "I actually almost felt bad going for the salad, but... well..."

It had been talking to him. He drew a line at that one.

"It brings up an interesting ethical question, I suppose." For most people, anyway. "It does, after all, want to be eaten."

"I think that's the part that threw me off the most," Kanan admitted. "It's probably more ethical than eating something that comes served up already dead but wasn't too thrilled about being slaughtered in the first place, but having a conversation with it just makes me feel weird."

"But if the waiter had explained it to you instead, would you have been likely to believe him?" Hannibal asked.

"No," Kanan admitted, "but there's a much better chance I'd be eating the steak right now."

Which he was aware was possibly even a little bit hypocritical, yes.

"Carrying on a conversation with it means it's a sentient being. That's a little tougher to chew than eating an animal with minimal self-awareness to start with."

"Yet even those animals humans normally eat can feel pain and fear," Hannibal pointed out. "They likely would prefer not to be eaten."

"Oh, I know," Kanan replied, "assuming the animals from this galaxy are anything similar to the ones from my own. I've noticed enough strange little parallels, I'm beginning to wonder if the differences are only superficial."

He shrugged. He wasn't saying it was great that they killed to eat at all, but if he had to choose between a non-sentient and something that he'd had a conversation with, it was really no contest.

"If I'm given the choice, though, I'll pick something I've never really had an opportunity to connect to." He glanced up at the waiter as his meal arrived, and then gave Hannibal a wry smile. "Or the salad. I'm pretty sure the salad doesn't have feelings."

"As I recall, the dish of the day mentioned he was acquainted with the vegetables, and they had opinions on being eaten," Hannibal said obligingly.

Because he was terrible.

"Well," Kanan sighed, looking down at his plate, "I can't eat the air, so the vegetables are going to have to cope."

If his first bite was maybe just a touch on the vengeful side, well, he wasn't used to moral quandary when it came to eating a salad.

"You could eat the creature that was asking you to," Hannibal pointed out.

"Honestly, the person asking me to mostly just makes me wonder how deeply indoctrinated it was as it was raised, to think that being led out to make small-talk with the people who are going to eat it is somehow okay," Kanan sighed.

Yes, he was calling the cow a person. It could make conversation? Person.

"Until I can be sure it's completely aware of what that means, I can't eat it in good conscience. I'd sooner stick to non-sentients, if it's all the same."

Hannibal nodded at the correction. Forgive him; he wasn't so used to non-human sentients.

Not that he cared so much about the difference, anyway. Either was edible.

He shrugged. "The only way you could make certain of that would be to speak with him further."

"I suppose so," Kanan agreed. "But that would take a lot more discussion than a casual pre-dinner conversation, and frankly, Doctor Lecter, I'm hungry."

Hannibal chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. "Far be it from me to stand between a man and his food. I hope it's a very good salad."

"You and me both," Kanan replied, after a few seconds of considering that. He shrugged it off, filed away the conversation for later. "Maybe when I get back to the island, I'll have a steak to make up for it."

"Come for dinner," Hannibal suggested. He grinned. "I'll do my best to find nothing that speaks."

"I'll consider your invitation." Kanan gave Hannibal a little grin. "Maybe not tonight, though. This is a pretty big salad."

And his appetite was a bit iffy after such an involved conversation about whether it was okay to eat somebody or not.

See, this was why Hannibal never bothered with such pesky discussions.

"Whenever you like. For now, I'll leave you to your salad. Enjoy the end of the universe."

Milliways, Sunday Evening

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