[open] come along for food

[isaz]

Who: Boreas and you!
Where: Kitchen
When: Lunchtime, early part of sick week 1
Rating: Nothing spicy here except food, maybe
What: Grumpy dragon dad cooks.

From: Wintersmith

I am roasting something I hunted.

Tell me something about your home and I will give you a piece.

[ True to his message, Boreas can be found inside the Temple's rudimentary kitchen. He's cleared out a decent amount of space next to the oven, the carcass of a deer-pigeon fusion animal on the counter with half of the meat sliced off. A rich smell emanates from the brick oven where several cuts of meat are currently cooking - not-quite buttery, carrying notes of spice and zest.

He'll be cooking slices of the deerpigeon as people come, plating them when the juices have completely soaked in. The meat is a bit tough, which he has tried to remedy by cutting slits in the meat in hopes that the residual fat would soften the muscle. What might stand out to others is the manner that it has been seasoned with - the meat is rubbed with butter and some oil to make up for the leanness of the meat, but there is also noticeable amounts of berry paste stuffed into the steak. The texture of the paste is much like pesto, along with how little it has been added, clearly evident that it is meant to serve as seasoning. If one licks a bit of the paste, they'll find that it's the source of the spiciness. It's a strange sort of flavour, but not entirely unpleasant - just unique. Mixed in with the paste are bits of something hard, possibly seeds. Biting them stings, like peppercorns.

Adults may be offered a glass of wine if they look like they need one. Otherwise, feel free to hang out in the kitchen while he cooks his kill. Ask questions, chat with each other, tell him stories while the temple flu isn't too intense.

Occasionally one might see him with his horns replaced by bunny ears. There's probably a reason to it but he's not telling you ]

[ ooc: feel free to tag each other as well! he'll just be around cooking until the meat runs out. if anyone has taste preferences he can try to accommodate them. if you'd like to do wildcards I'm game. hit me up on plurk or via pm ♥ ]

Comments

[resistivity]

( it isn't the message that draws him in. it's the spice. the smell in the air, wafting through the temple. it reminds him of something his mother used to make, some little slice of fire nation cuisine. he drifts in and then stops at the kitchen threshold. whatever or whoever he was expecting to find, it wasn't boreas. )

Oh. Uh... hi.

( he'd thought, for a moment...

but no. instead, he nods politely. mako isn't the most. naturally friendly person on the planet, but growing up with bolin has meant he can change hats if he needs to. )

Whatever you're cooking smells amazing. Something from home?

[isaz]

[ There is much to be said about the seeming paradox of spiced cuisine in a land full of ice and snow. However, it's a tradition, in parts - the fire in one's food to be transmuted into a source of strength for the farmers and hunters that traversed mountains and valleys. It's a tradition of much pride, which is why he returns to it in a foreign land - tried and trusted, a sign of hospitality to a people for whom meat was a carefully allocated resource. ]

That's right. Would you like some?

[resistivity]

( absolutely yes. but mako doesn't do hand-outs. it always leaves a bad taste in his mouth, especially now that he's older and has more means to pay his own way in the world. he hated begging. and if he can't contribute to the making of a meal in a meaningful way, he'd just as soon not partake. but it's a thoughtful offer, and it gets a little smile out of him as he comes into the kitchen. he has a bag slung over his shoulder, and in it are some pressed leaves he collected for use in tea.

he grabs a chipped old mug, puts water in it and then, in an old instinct, tries to heat it with the outstretched crook of his index finger.

it's not an obvious thing to an outsider. just. a guy who is staring in utter bemusement down at his cup, which. is very plainly cold. give him a moment, he needs to rein in the frustrated sigh. as he hunts around for a way to heat the water (how do you even start fires? he's never had to before) )

No thanks. I'm not all that hungry. But if you're willing to share the recipe, I'd appreciate that. It kinda reminds me of home.

[isaz]

[ Boreas isn't one to press others for something they don't want to talk about, so Mako only gets a slightly long look. ]

I can write it down for you later. Though, the key to it is dragonsbreath fruit, which is rare outside of my homeland. You could probably approximate it with a couple of other ingredients, though.

[ This he says as he picks up one of the small red berries on the counter, next to a small bowl filled with berry paste. ]

[purrtagonist]

[holy shit that smells amazing. er. . . what little of it Akira can smell through his congestion, anyway]

Whoa. . .

That's almost the fanciest meal I've ever seen.

[not quite as fancy as some of the meals at the Wilton, but close]

[isaz]

[ Is it, though? That comment gets a slight raise of his eyebrow, but not by much. It's the style of cooking that is common in his homeland, a country of hunters... maybe, it would seem lavish to those of similar backgrounds, but he's under the conception that it's not really the case. ]

Want some?

[ He's already pulling out a tray from the oven even before Akira answers, checking the texture of the meat. ]

[purrtagonist]

[a gentle snort]

Looks like you already know my answer.

[he presses a hand against his mouth to stifle his cough, before pulling up a chair to sit down at the nearest table]

If you're sharing, I definitely won't say know. It smells really good. . .

[isaz]

Mm.

[ That's a sound of gruff acknowledgement before he picks out a particular slab to inspect it. It seems to be almost done. ]

Do you like it well done or soft? The game meat is a bit tough here, so I added some butter.

[ Or, what passes to be butter. It's close enough. ]

[p_mortem]

[ There's really no reason for Minato to be in the kitchen, seeing as he can't cook, and hasn't had much of an appetite ever since he came here, but kitchens are warm with lit stoves and cooking food, and when he reads the notice pointing him towards the kitchen, he figures he can take advantage of the conversational atmosphere.

Rather than going for the meat, he has his cup of coffee he holds in both hands, balanced on his knees where he sits on a stool he's pulled to one corner of the room. He only takes a drink from it occasionally— its job is to warm his hands, rather than to quench thirst, and he lifts the cup every time he accidentally makes eye contact with somebody.

He's here to eavesdrop, to be honest. Over time, the stool gets dragged just a little closer to wherever Boreas is talking with somebody, so Minato can listen in on stories of people's homes too. He thinks he's being subtle. (He's not really subtle.) ]

[isaz]

[ Minato's presence is definitely not missed, though Boreas doesn't make a point to accost him until he's ready to speak. People have their reasons for keeping to themselves; and he's had a steady stream of people wanting steaks, so there's a lot on his hands.

Though, as his latest customer sits down to try a cut of meat, his attention drifts to the youth lurking in a corner of the kitchen. ]

You're not hungry?

[ He stops at a conversational distance away from Minato - close enough to talk, but far enough to not intrude on his space. ]

[p_mortem]

[ Eventually, everybody would be fed and he'd have less of a chance of getting through the night without having to speak; Minato knows this. He hung onto hope until the last minute, looking somewhat startled when Boreas finally addresses him, but shakes his head and would have left it at that if he didn't feel compelled to leave, with no good reason for loitering. ]

Not really... Mostly I'm told light, bland stuff's better when you're sick. [ vegetable soups, is what that advice is probably hinting at, not the thick black coffee in Minato's hands, but the drink is warm and the warmth helps just as much as anything else. ]

But I like listening to people talk, [ he adds, almost like an afterthought, as if to justify his reason for still being here. ]

[isaz]

[ It's useful to listening to people talk. One picks up information of all kinds - even if they are platitudes, it lets a person gain insight into the speaker. It's the reason why Boreas has set up this entire food giveaway, after all.

So he makes a sound of acknowledgement first, folding his arms. ]

It's a good habit to have. [ But, since Minato mentioned being sick ] How do you feel right now?

[invasif]

[ She is more interested in this food than some of the other fare provided. This reminds her of the palace, of banquets at the side of the king. He had liked hunted game, and demanded it be plentiful at his table. After his death, she had been much more austere and enforced it at her table as a symbol of their mourning for him. No one here will care about that. No one will look at her black dress and black cloak and think she is a young queen in mourning for the man who raised her. She'll wear that black until she dies.

There's a nostalgia to the smell of game, spices, fruit, and something... more. She realizes with a pang that it's hunger, overwhelming and roiling. She hasn't eaten in hundreds of years.

Bewilderment crosses her features at what her body feels in reawakening to this need. She slumps rather gracelessly into a chair, a hand at her forehead. ]

Pardon me... I did not realize how hungry I was, until this moment.

[isaz]

[ Boreas had cast a glance at her as she had walked in - a certain refinement to the way she holds herself, the pitch black of her dressing. Though, he had not commented on any of that - if she is willing to offer information, it will be on her own terms. Here, they are all nameless, all strangers - civility is something he must use instead of intimidation.

Though, her words elicit a more obvious reaction from him. He does not leave his post at the kitchen, still working on preparing a cut of meat, but he raises his voice so that she can hear. ]

Are you in the habit of eating spice?

[ Some find the taste of dragon berry too overpowering, as they have told him. ]

[invasif]

No.

[ She decides that is the simplest way to answer. All of her habits, as they were, are so far away they might as well not exist. And before her imprisonment, she had eaten mostly from her own garden. Easier to avoid poisoned food that way, wasn't it. ]

Not in a long time.

[ She exhales, rest her forehead in her hand, already trying to get control over the sudden sensory overload. It already isn't the first time. While waiting in the dark, she had not thought at all about how alien the world would be to her should she rejoin it... ]

[isaz]

[ There's a pause before he starts picking out part of the berry paste from the food he's preparing. From the looks of it and her words, she looks weakened, and it's definitely not a good idea to feed malnourished people intense cuisine.

It would be easier if he could soften the meat, but the animal's flesh is tough to begin with. He can only hope some cutting would suffice. ]

I'll take care of that.

[ Curt as he is, he's not about to let someone starve. ]

What's your name?

[sunborne]

Oh...

[ oh...

oh!

something smells good...!

though he's supposed to be in 'the quarantine zone' - aka his bedroom, with more makeshift pillows and blankets and covers than he knows what to do with - for his sake, daylight’s need to stimulate himself trumps meddy's 'executive medical orders' to hide from anyone who could potentially get him sick. when the coast is clear and he's sure meddy is doing one of their rounds around the temple, daylight quickly sneaks out of his rooms to find something to do.

he didn’t see the message delivered to his device when scurrying down the corridors. too busy trying to avoid a chance of running-in with meddy and/or see what he can do before he gets shooed back to his rooms. but he does catch the smell of something great in the kitchens when he passes by.

it's enticing enough to have him poke his head in, zeroing in on whoever is the source of that great smelling, er, smell. hmm- he doesn't think he's seen them before. are they one of the new folks who joined the temple...? ]

Hi there, mister! [ he tugs his sheet up to get a better look at the chef, revealing a silver faceplate that's crowned by a helm of red and gold. wide and bright blue optics peer at the new face, hopeful yet a little nervous. he distinctly remembers auntie saralyn getting annoyed if she was bothered during cooking. ] Um… I'm not bothering you, am I?

[isaz]

[ ....

................

As much as Boreas has seen a lot in his century's worth of lifetime, this is a first. Who is this bedsheet looking mysterious person? There's a voice coming from it... this.... metal.... ???

This is the first time something here that's bamboozled him and he's honestly quite impressed.

So, in the manner of someone who is choosing to completely ignore this metal elephant in the room: ]

You are not. Did you need something?

[ Boreas himself is a man with horns but Daylight is Really Weird. Still, he's not about to ignore proper decorum - if Daylight needs something, he'd provide it ]

[sunborne]

[ now that's an easy question for him to answer: ]

I smelled something great while I was passing by! Was curious so I thought it'll be interesting to investigate it. [ definitely more interesting and, hopefully, more productive for him to do than, say, trying to find a way to entertain himself at risk of meddy's lectures.

daylight iiiinches closer while he speaks to the man - the cool-looking man, daylight decides, given his horns and all - and taking this as a sort of invitation to come in the kitchens.

it's been a while since he's been here. meddy has, more or less, considered this place too dangerous™ for him to enter. they've been having suspicions that something is up lately. they've been pretty wound up since their return to the temple and want daylight to stay somewhere safe and secure after his series of stunts in struxta.

sheesh! a 'bot tries to plug himself into the mass subconscious, stop an electrical death storm, and a skip a meal a few times- ]

Are you cooking something? [ his winglets begin to flutter, making the sheet he's wearing over his frame move about. ] Can I help? I used to help Auntie Chris a lot in her cooking and I was pretty good at it! Um, the helping. Not the cooking.

[tranquilforest]

[It's only after she gets to the kitchen anyway that she connects the message she had received over the device with the carcass being dressed on the table and the new, unfamiliar person standing there. Her original intent had just been to come for some water or broth since she had been feeling oddly poorly for about a week, but her curiosity gets the better of her.]

Honored sir. [She greets him with a graceful, though infinitesimally wobbly, curtsy. The smells are appetizing, but in her current state she doesn't have very much of an appetite.] This is a very impressive catch. It is good to see you had a successful hunt.

[isaz]

[ Boreas glances at her as she comes in, blinking as he takes in her features - an older woman, which is rare from what he's seen around the temple. There is an awfully large amount of children here, which has him naturally concerned about how they're supposed to function if they are to go to another world. Kids have less experience and are prone to making mistakes. This he knows; he was once one.

Though... he contemplates greeting her, but she speaks first. What he does not expect is the formality of her greeting, and it makes him pause for a second. ]

Thank you. You don't need to be so polite, it's fine.

[ Maybe it's the years and years of intimidation that's at work again, a habit that ingrains itself into his manner even when he consciously tries to dispel it. He's not exactly opposed to being addressed like that, but it goes against one of the rules that he's set for himself back home.

< I will become a Lord of Dragons, never a Lord of Man. >

After all, hasn't he slain Lords of Men and denounced their pride before their corpses?

He keeps his tone even - serious, but not hostile; a trademark of a blunt personality. ]

Would you like some?

[tranquilforest]

[Why is everyone so informal around here She nods an acknowledgement and straightens up to look at him, tilting her head a little in curiosity as she surveys his set-up in the kitchen.]

What is it that you're preparing - ? [She trails off, and then smiles half to herself, shaking her head.] I'm afraid I don't know how to refer to you.

[bleps]

I have no need for food, but I can take a piece to bring back to someone feeling under the weather, if you don’t mind.

[The declaration comes from the android nearby, LED circling lightly on his temple as he watches the preparation of the food. Tries to identify just what kind of animal it is, comes up short of anything other than a strange fusion of a creature. But others have taken some without complaint; have even commented on its favorable taste.

Why not?]

You just want to know something about where I’m from, right?

[isaz]

[ His eyes can't help but trail to that flashing light on Connor's temple; but he doesn't ask just yet. Best to wait until he can be sure how much Connor is comfortable with sharing. ]

That's correct.

[ Since he's offering to fetch something for a sick person, he starts considering the merit of making a comfortable package for Connor to bring back ]

If you're alright with it, that is.

[bleps]

Of course.

[Connor's an android who doesn't mind talking in general, much less about himself in broader terms. He continues without really missing a beat.]

I come from a city called Detroit in the year 2038. My name is Connor, and I'm an android -- an RK800 prototype model, made to specifically aid law enforcement. My functions are primarily focused on investigation, negotiation, and interrogation; but I am a learning machine. My skill set is constantly expanding dependent upon my experiences.

[Well. That might have been more of an introduction than a nugget about his home, but they're one and the same, in a way.]