thecapitol | [OPEN] Every Little Thing She Does is Magic....

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[OPEN] Every Little Thing She Does is Magic....

Who | Charlie and YOU!
What | This is a girl who has had to fight for her food for who knows how long. She's cooking!
Where | The kitchen in the Tower.
When | The week of her arrival. She cooks as often as she can, so it can be any time during the week.
Warnings/Notes | If your character would like some food, they can totally ask Charlie to cook for them. No warnings at all except perhaps non-graphic talk of possession, if her curse comes up in conversation.

The technology was more than a little boggling - but Charlie was getting the hang of it all in a hurry.

Pans were sizzling on the stove, pots were simmering with fragrant sauces, the scent of fresh bread was in the air, and the newcomer was in the thick of it all, humming merrily to herself as she bounced around from station to station. It was plainly more than she could eat, and she knew that; honestly, she was hoping to have hungry visitors drop in, perhaps for a touch of conversation. She hadn't had proper company in such a long time, after all, and the idea of it put her in a wonderful mood.

It helped, of course, that she had slept through the night. No incident, nothing else, she simply...slept.

The nervousness that fluttered in her gut like a couple of butterflies was easily drowned out by the anticipation of actually seeing live people.

She pulled the fresh loaf of bread from the oven, all pleasant smiles, dark hair bouncing around her ears. Now all she had to do was wait.

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The Signless isn't much of a cook (outside of simple wilderness fare) and he doesn't spend much time in the kitchen usually. With both the Initiate and the Disciple under the weather in the wake of Terezi's arrest, though, he's willing to go a little out of his comfort zone to cheer them up. He's procured a bag of lively crickets from the petshop the Disciple told him about and fully intends to make them into cricket cookies. The Capitol has a lot of things but its bug-based foodstuffs are lacking, so he feels a much-missed bit of home might go a long ways toward being a comfort.

He isn't expecting the kitchen to already be occupied, though, and so he stands a little awkwardly in the doorway as Charlie bustles about. What he wants to do won't take up much space; maybe she won't mind company?

"Do you mind if I join you? I'll try to stay out of your way, it's just the crickets are better fresh." He holds up the paper bag, from which can be heard rustling and chirping.

When finally she has company, the girl looks up in a hurry to see who it is - and after everything she's been through, she's a little surprised at how little she is bothered by the grey-skinned, horned figure standing in the doorway.

"Oh - no, not at all! I can clear any space you need, and the oven is free now." Her voice is pleasant, friendly. She stares at the bag for a second, registering what the newcomer has said was in it. At one time, it might have thrown her a little bit...but during her time on the island, insects had actually been a valuable food source, when necessary.

"I don't know how you want to prepare them, but there's plenty of space on the burners and a great frying pan. I know crickets are really tasty pan-fried."

She smiles warmly, stirring around her pan of chicken.

Edited 2014-08-04 01:58 (UTC)

It's beyond refreshing to meet a human who not only doesn't comment on his appearance but doesn't seem to be bothered by it in the first place. She's not the only one who hasn't minded, of course, but he's still pleasantly surprised every time.

"They are! And that's how I'm used to cooking them, but this time I was actually planning to bake them into cookies. I need to cheer some people up."

He chooses a free area of counter space and sets down his bag, then starts gathering supplies. He vaguely knows that for baking you need flour and sugar and butter and eggs, all things it was exceptionally hard to get in the desert. Thanks to that he's flying half-blind here.

No, the way this man looked didn't bother her at all. That was probably a side-effect of both being alone for such a long time, and of dealing with real monsters in some capacity or other for said period of time. This guy wasn't a monster. He was just...gray. Very gray, and very horned. No big deal.

"Oh - well, that sounds nice. I hope they don't hop out of the batter."

Charlie hung back for a moment, watching Signless as he pulled things together...and then spoke up with a good-natured giggle in her voice.

"...Would you like a little bit of help? It's been a long time since I've baked with an actual oven, but it's all coming back to me pretty quickly." A brief gesture to the bread she had just finished making.

Edited 2014-08-06 05:48 (UTC)

They weren't even very big horns, either, and his fangs weren't even all that sharp even if his prominent overbite made them obvious. Monster, definitely not. Not very experienced in the kitchen, probably, if the way his expression got sheepish when she asked if he might like help was any indication.

"Yes, if you wouldn't mind. I'm not a very experienced baker." Ovens were kind of hard to find out in the desert after all so everything he'd had to work with on Alternia had been makeshift and basic.

"I can handle the crickets, at least. They'll need to be roasted first, I can start on that."

The soft giggle that followed the sheepish expression was completely devoid of malice. Without missing a beat, she started to help gather things for a basic cookie recipe, movements sure and graceful.

"I don't mind one bit! I'm just having a good time getting to cook at all. It's been a long time. A very long time." How long exactly was anyone's guess. She certainly had no idea, and that thought was reflected momentarily in her expression. "Both for cooking and for company, actually. I'm Charlie."

This was nice. She forgot how much she had missed conversation! And this guy seemed like a real sweetie.

"The Signless," he said as he took a flat baking sheet and started methodically arranging crickets on it. How he got them to stay still was anyone's guess -- probably some kind of kindred insect communing thing. Or just practice with cooking primarily insects. At least they weren't like the ones from the last arena so there was no eye-stabbing required to keep them docile.

"And I'm glad to provide company if you need it. I find that here especially just having someone friendly to talk to can go a long way."

Wow. He really had that down. Usually she had to rip the legs off to get them to stay put, but she always felt a little barbaric doing that, in spite of herself. Even if she was literally on a deserted island with no one to judge her.

"It can go a long way anywhere," she chuckled, setting all the rudimentary cookie ingredients off to one side until the crickets were done. "I haven't had really anyone to talk to in...a very, very long time."

"Were you alone before coming here?" he asked, with genuine concern. Living in the wilderness with a very small found family had given him a great appreciation of the value of company. The idea of someone being completely alone for as long as she seemed to be implying was was sad one.

The cookie sheet of crickets went into the oven, still with minimal cricket fuss.

"Well...yes, basically."

It was a bit of a tender subject, but she wasn't coy about it - watching the crickets go into the oven, she paused in her preparations of cookie dough to focus her attention more fully on her company.

"I was on an island. I don't think I was really...supposed to see anyone? I know I wasn't there alone, but the only glimpses I got of other people were...short-lived."

And the one person I wanted to find the most I could never find.

He pauses in opening the package of chocolate chips -- they'll need to get melted down so he can dip the roasted crickets in chocolate before putting them on the cookies, but this is far more important.

"I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine how terrible that must have been." Not that being here is much better, but here at least there are people to talk to.

"I live up in the District Twelve suite, if you ever need someone to talk to."

"It was...well, there was a lot about it that I didn't like, but it could have been worse."

Charlie leaned on the counter, thinking a little bit about her circumstances. About all of them. Yes. The aloneness was the worst part, save perhaps for the worrying, the waiting.

Shaking herself, she smiled sadly at her new friend.

"Thank you for that. I'll probably take you up on it. I'm...not used to sleeping indoors anymore, let alone in a building around other people, so...as much as I like sleep, sometimes it doesn't like me."

He smiles back at that.

"I completely understand. I never slept indoors before coming here, and adjusting to sleeping at night also took quite a while. If you can't sleep there's a good chance I'll also be awake."

The trials and tribulations of being a nocturnal species in a diurnal world. Nevermind that trolls usually sleep in cocoons full of slime and he didn't even have one of those growing up in the first place; the sleeping bag he sleeps in here is still the best purchase he ever made in Panem.

"That's good to know. You - you really never slept indoors? Ever?"

Honest curiosity was plain in her voice - there was no malice there. Glad to carry on with the conversation (away from things that may dampen her mood), she went back to the cookie dough preparations.

Baking really was relaxing.

He shook his head.

"No, not really. I grew up in the wilderness and even after I started going into villages I was always more comfortable outside of them." A big, gleaming city like Panem had been one hell of a culture shock when he was used to run-down lowblood towns. Twelve, though, Twelve had been like coming home.

"Sometimes we would stay in basements or stables when trolls were friendly toward us, but that was very infrequent." He paused for a moment, ears flicking thoughtfully. "And I don't really count the ship as 'indoors'."

"Wow. Well, until the island, I can't say I was used to sleeping outdoors," Charlie admitted, setting the bowl of dough aside until the crickets were done toasting. "Never even went camping when I was little with my family. But it's amazing what you can learn out of necessity, isn't it?"

She started a double boiler for melting down some chocolate chips, continuing on with things that she didn't expect he would have a lot of knowledge about. Helping was nice. Friendship was nicer.

It was amazingly lucky that he'd managed to walk into the kitchen at the exact same time that someone who actually knew how to cook was using it. He knelt down to check on the crickets through the oven door.

"Almost done... I think. I'm used to doing this over open fire." Normally he'd just them as they were after, like popcorn. Sometimes he wouldn't even cook them, but humans seemed particularly uncomfortable with the idea of eating bugs live.

"It is amazing, I think, what people can adapt to in order to stay alive. You adapted to the wilderness. I adapted to life at sea. It's unusual for a land-dwelling troll to set foot near water unless they're powerful enough to threaten the seadwellers."

It was also amazingly lucky that he had walked into the kitchen when someone was in there who didn't flinch at the idea of crickets. This became readily apparent when she grabbed a pair of tongs, bustled over, reached into the oven with them, and pulled just one of the crickets off of the sheet. She blew on it a couple of times, looked it over, and then popped it in her mouth as if it were a potato chip.

"Mm...they're done enough that we can finish baking them in the cookies," she agreed once her mouth was empty. "Go on and take them out?"

Dumping the cookie dough out onto a floured cutting board, she started rolling it out.

"Wow...Troll society sounds like something else. I mean, my circumstances were kinda...unusual, but my childhood was pretty boring by comparison, I'll bet."

Astrid was still getting the hang of things having just arrived, or at least figure out her way around this place, having gotten lost more times than she could count. But somehow she manages to make it to the kitchen where an intriguing smell fills her nostril--definitely not the sort of smell that she'd ever pick up on a Viking island.

Her curiosity gets her into wandering further in where she sees the girl working the oven, a delicious looking piece of bread popping out of the oven, smelling much more appetizing than the kind she's used to.

"What are you making?" She asks before she even realizes, her curiosity besting out her usual caution in this situation.

"Oh-!"

When Astrid speaks, she's bent over one of the pans, inspecting it closely - and so she jumps when suddenly she's being addressed, half-throwing the spoon onto the ground. After a moment, she realizes that she has company, face reddening just a little bit when she stoops to retrieve the wayward utensil.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come in." Her voice is gentle, disarming - she straightens up, moving to the sink to rinse off the spoon. "There's bread, and chicken, and kind of a...gravy...sauce. I'm winging it, honestly. There's lots of it, if you want some!"

"That's alright. Sorry I just kind of barged in on you."

Truth be told, Astrid was starving. She'd be so engaged with trying to figure out her situation of getting dragged into the games that she hadn't really been touching the food that they brought up to her floor. She had been far too worried to think about her appetite. But now that she was getting a good whiff, her mouth was practically salivating.

She didn't really want to give in, but seeing all this food on an empty stomach was really tempting. "Are you sure? I don't want to be intruding or anything."

Charlie was at least perceptive enough to notice Astrid's bearing; if there was one thing that she could now recognize, it was when someone was hungry. Smiling warmly, she gestured broadly with one hand.

"You're not intruding at all! I was kind of hoping someone would show up that I could share with. It's been a long time since I've gotten to cook, and I might have gotten a little carried away." She took down a plate, holding it out for her company. It was so nice to talk to someone again...honestly, the presence of people meant a lot more to her right now than the food did.

She was actually thankful for the Games right now. How long that might last was anyone's guess.

"My name is Charlie, by the way."

There was something fairly warm about the girl's presence. Maybe it was the way she seemed to smile so easily amongst a place where everyone was always so tense, for good reason, almost afraid to have high spirits. But seeing that positive energy here made it a little easier for her to smile a bit herself.

"Thank you," she nods, accepting the food. "I'm Astrid. I haven't really been here very long myself."

She breaks off a piece of the bread, examining it for a moment before placing it into her mouth. After a few chews, her face lights up. "T-This is really good!" Definitely not like the stale kind her village was used to.

"Ohmygosh I'm so glad it turned out!"

The words came out in an animated sigh, a little laugh following them. "Bread can be tricky to get right, and this is my first time with an oven in...well, it's felt like years!" She dished out a full plate for Astrid without missing a beat - chicken and gravy and vegetables in butter sauce of some kind. It had all been improvised, but she had put a lot of heart into making it...and that was reflected plain as day.

She reached up, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"Thank you for being my taste-tester, then, Astrid. Have as much as you want, there's way more than I can eat. It's great to meet you! I'm kinda glad I'm not the only newbie around."

Astrid licks her lips when she sees the extra food. Not only has she had a lack of food from the past few days, but it did look ten times more delicious than most things she's laid her eyes on. Viking food never was quite so exciting.

When she takes a bite, she gives a content hum, nodding her head. "Well, you really got it figured out for not having used it in a while. Much better than anything I could do. People kind of ... make sure I don't do anything involving food." She laughs a bit nervously, having picked up hints in the past that most people have gotten fairly sick from eating her concoctions.

"It's ... really great to meet you too. I've been getting more and more surprised how nice the people are here. It's ... not really what I expected."

"Oh, it's just a matter of learning! My sister is - was - is actually better than I am at it, even, and she taught me." She tries not to think about how long it has been, or how her sister may not even be alive any more. Thinking like that won't serve anything right now. "Maybe I could give you some lessons sometime?"

Reaching up, she adjusted the flower pinned in her hair. An idle motion.

"I didn't really have much of an expectation at all, honestly. But I'm happy with the people I've met so far!"

She notices the jumble of words and decides not to question it. It's not hard to believe everyone probably had some mixed up circumstances going on in their own lives.

But she offers a small smile with a nod. "Lessons. That'd be really nice. My boyfriend won't admit it, but I'm sure he's been relieved to eat food here that hasn't been cooked by me. I'd love to shove that back in his face." She laughs a bit, a bit anxious to see how Hiccup would react to her trying to serve him food again. He's never been too thrilled about that in the past.

"And I'm ... pretty happy about it too." Surprisingly. "It's not the sort of place you'd think to find this much kindness around."

"I'm sure we can get you cookin' like a champ in no time, sweetie. You'll show him!"

Making sure all the food is secure and not going to burn, Charlie plates some for herself, moving to sit with Astrid. A soft laugh escapes her as Astrid talks about Hiccup - a laugh, even though it makes her heart hurt a little bit. The implication is that this girl's boyfriend is here with her. She's lucky, but if they all have to kill each other....

She banishes the thought for now.

"I feel like kindness just sort of...happens with enough people thrown into the same situation. There will always be a few rough types, but there's always someone you can find a friend in. As long as there are people around, that is."

Edited 2014-09-24 17:40 (UTC)

"Yeah, I hope so." She takes another bite of her food, a bit of comfort coming from the return of a laugh. She's been trying not to think of the inevitable of what could happen later. The fact that only one person's meant to survive the arena, meaning she and Hiccup or any of her friends couldn't all remain standing together.

"Everyone seems to be from different worlds, but looks like no one's here by choice. Putting everything aside, with how everyone's getting along here—I don't know—maybe it all means something."

Like hope.

"Maybe it does."

She falls for the moment into companionable quiet, digging into her own plate of food and smiling softly...if a bit sadly.

Hope. Yes, there is hope here, but it's hiding out behind a whole lot of bloodshed. It's a thought she doesn't want to visit, but it's one that's unavoidable, one that's inevitable one way or another. She's eating with someone that she might have to kill.

For now, though, it's just dinner.

"I kinda wonder what's going to happen with all this, in the end."

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[OPEN] Every Little Thing She Does is Magic....

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