Tepin's Muse: Gay Edition

It was a palace! He wandered into the open-plan space, craning his neck as he took in his surroundings. Valbara'nay dwellings had rooms that were sectioned off into their own domes, like a cluster of soap bubbles, but this one didn't even have dividing walls. The ceiling here was as high as the dome in his parents' house back on Valbara, the room so large that it more resembled the lobby of a skyscraper than someone's quarters. The station was huge, granted, but this seemed excessive.

He quickly realized that all of the furniture was scaled up too. The glass table in front of the couch in the living area was the size of a dining table, almost at chest-height to him, and the counters in the kitchen section of the space were tall enough that he would scarcely be able to see over them. These weren't quarters for a Valbara'nay or even a human, they must be for Borealans, or perhaps Krell. Had there been some kind of mix-up?

Tepin shrugged off his pack and removed his helmet, beginning to unfasten the seals on his stifling pressure suit. The humidity on the station was already too low for his liking, and he didn't want to overheat. He folded the rubbery garment and set it on the coffee table, retrieving a billowy tunic and a pair of tight-fitting shorts from his bag. Humans wore shoes even in a casual setting, but they seemed to be the exception to the rule.

For the first time that he could remember, he wasn't concerned with fashion, he spared no thought for how appealing his clothes made him look. If they accentuated his thighs, if they drew attention to his neck, if the colors complimented his scales. What few Valbara'nay females were on the station with him were undergoing intense training, they wouldn't be scrutinizing him, so he didn't have to make himself presentable. It was an oddly liberating feeling.

He stretched out his feather sheaths, the two tentacle-like appendages straightening out to either side of his head before opening up to reveal his plumes. The headdress of a male was larger and more ornate than that of the females, the feathers tipped with iridescent eye-spots. The two sheaths on his forearms had been wrapped around his limbs beneath his suit, and he uncoiled them, the muscles flexing. They were similar to those on his head, albeit a little smaller, the fleshy appendages protruding just above his wrists.

Once he was dressed, he made his way over to the couch. He eyed the wall of faux-leather before him, gauging the distance, then sprang up onto the cushions. The gravity on the station was a little higher than what he was used to, but not by enough that he really noticed. After climbing up onto the armrest and perching atop it, he surveyed the apartment, getting a birds-eye view of his new domain. The bathroom and bedroom seemed to be sectioned off from the rest of the space, likely for privacy reasons. The idea of having a toilet inside one's own home still made him uncomfortable, but it was something that he had dealt with during his time on the Teth'Rak's Fang, and it was an inevitability on a space station like this.

Tepin rested for a while, locking his legs and leaning his chin on his chest. His muscles were burning, the journey here had exhausted him. How were the other inhabitants of the station able to walk so far without taking a break? There was no transportation system, and the aliens seemed to have limitless stamina.

After a short nap, he felt ready to explore his apartment in greater detail, leaping down onto the carpet. It was actually rather nice to have a lot of high perches available to him. Valbara'nay liked heights, it made them feel secure. It was probably a throwback to their evolutionary history, when they would scurry up trees to escape predators on the ground.

He bobbed over to the kitchen counter and scaled it in one jump, landing on the varnished wood, his claws clicking on the material. It was as wide as a footpath back on Valbara. There were odd machines of unknown purpose atop it, and he paused to examine one. Upon closer inspection, it was a device used to process food, judging by the spinning blade inside the glass compartment. There was a white box with a glass panel on the front, another numeric keypad beside it, and a rotating plate on the inside. Who knew what that was for.

The centerpiece of the kitchen was a giant, white box. There were two doors on the front with handles, obviously designed to be opened. Perhaps it was used for storing food.

As he moved along, he found a series of drawers, reaching down with a feather sheath and wrapping the appendage around the handle, pulling it open as he perched on the edge of the counter to see inside. It was divided into smaller compartments that contained knives and other implements, this must be Earth'nay cutlery.

When he became bored with the kitchen, he moved over to one of the two large doors at the rear of the room. He selected the leftmost one, the door opening automatically for him, and he stepped through into what must be the bedroom. The bed was enormous, high enough off the ground that it reached his chin, the mattress wide enough that four flocks could have laid upon it with room to spare.

That suited him just fine, however. In Valbara'nay dwellings, there was an entire dome dedicated to sleeping, the padded floor lined with cushions. This wasn't actually much larger than what one might find in a standard home.

His stomach began to rumble, Tepin realizing that he was hungry. He hadn't eaten since leaving the carrier. There were protein bars in his rucksack, but he was on a station where a dozen cultures mingled. He wanted to try something new, something exotic, a dish that no Valbara'nay had ever tasted. Before arriving, he had been told that alien food would be safe to eat for the most part, that all of the species in the Coalition had similar nutritional requirements and tolerances. The only exceptions were spicy foods that contained burning chemicals, and Earth'nay alcohol, which was enriched to dangerous levels.

On his way to the exit, he stopped to retrieve his visor, sliding the little case into the pocket of his shorts. He didn't know what inspiration he might find, or when he might want to paint. The prospect of more walking wasn't very appealing, but according to his map, the tourism quarter was adjacent to the residential quarter. It wasn't all that far. Speaking of which, he needed to download the information from his suit to his visor. He had already memorized the map, but there might be other useful data on file.

After connecting his visor to his pressure suit's computer and transferring the files over, he set off onto the torus.

CHAPTER 2: INSPIRATION

"Res...taur...ant," Tepin muttered as he read off the Earth'nay text on the establishment's colorful awning from the safety of a planter. They sold food here, it was as good a place to start as any. Paying shouldn't be a problem, he wasn't sure what the currency conversion was like, but Valbara had been inducted into the Coalition's economic zone. They couldn't turn him away.

He looked both ways before crossing the walkway, choosing his opportunity carefully. He was below the field of view of many of these creatures, and he couldn't count on them noticing him before he was trampled. When the way was relatively clear, he bobbed over to the restaurant, two Earth'nay giving him a funny look as he emerged from a bush and darted across their path.

As he pushed open the glass door to the establishment, enticing scents reached his nose, his mouth immediately beginning to water. He could smell meat, a lot of it. Meat wasn't that hard to obtain back home, but it was something that was usually treated as a delicacy, reserved for special occasions. Most food that was produced on Valbara came from aquaponics and insect farming within the city walls, while the world beyond was allowed to take its natural course. They didn't farm livestock, but they did cull the Gue'tra flocks on a seasonal basis, stout reptilian herbivores that roamed the plains in large numbers. People usually loaded up on meat and feasted around that time of year.

The scene before him was oddly rustic. Everything was made from polymer that had been shaped to look like wood, the walls lined with paneling in the same style. It might have been convincing to an Earth'nay, but Tepin could smell the plastic. There was a mirrored walkway that ran along the length of the room, polished to a shine so that it reflected the lights in the ceiling above it, rows of tables and chairs lined up to either side. There were pillars spaced at intervals that were designed to look like they had been crudely carved from stone, but it was yet more polymer, a soft glow rising from beneath them. It was all very upscale, the Earth'nay had more taste in interior design than he had given them credit for.

Most of the seats were vacant, there were only a handful of aliens occupying some of the tables, leaning out to peer at him curiously. They didn't mean any harm, they had never seen his like before, so he shouldn't let it make him uncomfortable. He'd be getting a lot of odd looks during his stay on the station.

So...how did this work? In a Valbara'nay restaurant, a greeter would be sent to seat him and take his order, seeing to his needs during his meal. He waited for a few moments, and then an Earth'nay woman appeared from a side room, walking over to greet him. She was wearing a black suit with a white collar, and a long skirt, her dark hair tied up in a bun. Her skin was pale, her eyes a shade of blue that he found quite appealing. He knew that she was female, but the lack of a snout always gave Earth'nay women a masculine feel.

"Would you like a table, Sir?" she asked.

Sir, an Earth'nay honorific, respectful.

"Yes, thank you," he replied. She seemed taken aback for a moment, his trilling, flanging voice perhaps more musical than what she was used to. Earth'nay lacked a syrinx, a vocal organ found in Valbara'nay that allowed them to make a wider range of vocalizations. During his time learning their language, his instructor had talked about how Valbara'nay voices often sounded like two individuals singing in harmony to Earth'nay ears.

"This way," she said, giving him a polite smile with her painted lips as she led him over to an unoccupied seat. He had to climb up onto it, it was too high for him, and there was a padded backrest that got in the way of his tail. It wasn't uncomfortable enough that he wanted to ask for better seating, and it wasn't their fault. He must be their first Valbara'nay customer.

"This is our menu," she said, gesturing to a piece of laminated card on the table before him. "Please don't hesitate to ask for help if you need it."

He scrutinized it, following the rows of alien text with his claw. Even the words that he recognized meant nothing to him because they referred to dishes and foods without context. What was a pork bun? Who knew. The sheaths on his head and forearms opened up, flashing a disappointed purple, the woman recoiling in alarm. He glanced up from the menu, willing his long feathers to fold back down.

"Apologies," he explained, "this is how my people express emotion. I didn't mean to alarm you."

"It's quite alright," she replied, chuckling sheepishly. "We've had a few aliens in here before, and they all have their own...quirks."

"I don't recognize any of these dishes," he explained, "what might you recommend?"

"No?" she asked, cocking her head at him. "You speak excellent English, I assumed that...no matter."

"We learn to speak your language through mimicry," Tepin said, the woman nodding.

"I see, so that's why I couldn't place your accent. You're mimicking several different people like a myna bird...how interesting. You're a Valbaran, right?"

"That's right," he added with a nod.

"Of course, I can recommend a dish," she said as she turned the menu around and began to read it. "Can you give me some idea of what your people generally eat? Do you like sweet foods, savory, do you have any special nutritional requirements?"

"Fish, fruits and vegetables with high water content, insect protein."

"I...don't think we have any insect-based dishes," she muttered.

"You serve meat, is that right?" Tepin asked, trying and failing to suppress a flutter of excited yellow.

"We have lots of different meat dishes. Pork, beef, chicken. Oh, you won't know what any of those are..." She thought for a moment, one hand on her hip as the other scratched her chin pensively. "How about a meat platter? That way, you can sample lots of different kinds at once. Maybe some fish too, if you'd like. I think we have a shipment of fresh salmon in. How do you like your meat cooked?"

"Whatever the Chef recommends," he replied.

"I think I have just the thing for you," she said with a grin. "Before I take your order, how will you be paying?"

He rummaged in his pocket and withdrew his visor, placing it on his snout, the Earth'nay watching him curiously as he began to gesture in the air.

"I can convert Valbara'nay currency into UN credits," he said, "I will just need an address to send the payment to."

"That should be fine," she added, "I'll send you the address along with the bill when you're done eating. It should be around eighty credits."

Tepin did some math for a moment, then nodded his head.

"Acceptable, thank you."

"Excellent. I'll be back with your meal shortly, Sir."

***

Tepin could smell his meal long before the woman came into view, the wonderful scents preceding her. She was balancing two large dishes in her hands, placing them before him on the table, his feathers puffing up to express his excitement again. This time she was ready for it, and she didn't falter, leaning over to point to the various items.

The larger of the two dishes was occupied by a ring of pink, marbled meat that had been sliced into bite-sized pieces, garnished with some kind of green plant.

"This is called yakiniku," she explained, "it's a Japanese dish made up of a variety of grilled meat. Here we have rosu, beef loin and chuck. This one here is butabara, pork belly, and here we have negima which is chicken thigh."

She gestured to the second dish, this one piled with small, round packets that were wrapped in what almost resembled black paper. Some of them had a strip of what looked like pink flesh that lay atop a ball of white mush.

"This is sushi," she explained. "This pink meat is salmon, a kind of Earth fish. This is tuna or maguro, this is shrimp or ebi. The black stuff is a kind of aquatic plant called seaweed. The white stuff is a grain called rice. Feel free to leave anything that isn't to your tastes. Actually..." Tepin watched as she moved a couple of the items to the side of his plate. "Be wary of the wasabi, this green paste. It's extremely hot."

"Spicy?" Tepin asked.

"Yes, very spicy. Please let me know if you need anything else," she said, turning to leave him to his meal. His eyes played across the platter eagerly, he didn't know where to start. There was enough food here to feed a whole flock.

There was more of that strange cutlery on the table, but he wasn't sure how to use it, and so he reached out to pluck one of the marbled strips of rosu from the plate. He popped it into his mouth, giving it a tentative chew, his taste buds lighting up like a color panel. It was wonderful! It was so much richer and meatier than Gue'tra flesh, the flavors so complex. It was smoky and salty, and the texture was so perfect. It almost seemed to melt on his tongue as he chewed, his feathers flashing pink and yellow as he savored it.

Each type of meat had a unique flavor, the pork had more fat, and the beef was denser. His favorite of all was the chicken, it tasted remarkably similar to the Gue'tra meat that he was accustomed to eating back home, albeit a little dryer.

He savored every bite as he devoured the platter, pausing to clean the juices from his claws. He was so engrossed in the meat dish that he had almost forgotten about the sushi, the allure of fresh fish eventually diverting his attention.

He wasn't sure how to eat them, should the small parcels of rice and fish be devoured whole, or unwrapped and eaten in their individual components? It was unlikely that the Chef would have gone to such lengths for presentation alone, and so he decided to eat them as they were. He selected one of the morsels, popping it into his mouth.

Again, his vibrant feathers advertised his delight, Tepin chewing as his ornate plumes bobbed in the air above his head. The rice was sweet and sticky, while the fish was cool on his tongue, imparting flavors from an alien ocean that was at once familiar and strange. He would have to access the station's information network later on and find out what kind of fish this salmon came from. It was the equal of any delicacies on the homeworld, its flesh so delicate and soft.

There were so many varieties of sushi, and he wanted to sample all of them, save perhaps the wasabi that the Earth'nay had warned him of. Many plants evolved painful irritants as a defense mechanism used to deter animals from eating them. Why the humans enjoyed the burning sensation, he had no idea.

Next, he sampled one of the ones that had been wrapped in black seaweed. The meat in this one came from a shrimp, according to his waitress. He leaned back against the padded chair, biting into the soft flesh, its ocean flavor complimented by the sweetness of the rice and the salty taste of the seaweed. Doubtless, he could spend his entire visit just sampling different Earth'nay delicacies at different establishments around the station, he was almost tempted. But his work here was not culinary in nature, he needed to find more things to paint and sculpt.

Come to think of it...

His eyes scanned the mostly unoccupied room, the mirrored floor, and the stone pillars. Why not capture this moment? The décor was uniquely human, his dishes were full of color and texture, this was something that the people back home would want to see.

Tepin reached into his pocket and withdrew his visor case again, dropping the pane of glass onto his snout and reaching up to turn on the computer. The HUD came to life, and he gestured in the air, selecting the right mode. He wasn't about to sculpt each individual piece of meat and sushi, this situation called for a more traditional style.

The visor projected a canvas in front of him, and he locked it in place, as though there was an easel standing between his seat and the table. He tweaked the transparency a little so that he could see through the matte white square, then selected a texture that resembled fabric stretched over a wooden frame. He wanted to capture the entire scene, not merely one or two objects.

His fingers serving as brushes, he began to paint, the muscular feather sheaths on his wrists snaking down to pluck pieces of sushi from his plate like tentacles as he waved his hands in the air. It would be a challenge to paint his meal before he was compelled to eat it...

***

"Sir? Is everything alright?" the waitress asked as she returned to his table with a tablet computer in her hands. Tepin looked up from his painting, blinking at her through the glass of his visor, realizing that what he was doing might look strange without context.

"Quite. I am painting," he replied.

"Painting?" she repeated.

"That is my profession," he continued, "I was sent here by the Ensi to paint what I see. I will bring it back to Valbara as a record of all that I encountered in my travels."