[Open] It's RAW

[perma_banned]

CHARACTERS: Ban, OTA
DATE: 1/15/17 - 1/22/17 (Late Night)
WARNINGS: Cooking, liquor and possibly fire??
SUMMARY: Ban finds cook books from multiple cultures and worlds in Oska's library--has a go with it.


At least in normal towns, drinking routinely wasn't as boring as Oska had been. There would always be gossip, arguments, and interesting local events to become engrossed in. As it stood, Ban was left to his own devices and his own room by himself on most nights, driven further and further into the hole by his favorite vice. Eventually, the boredom of sitting in the dark and dizzily trying to play solitaire under a tiny lamp wore itself thin as far as time-killers went.

At 3 AM one night, he wandered into the library, still too far gone to make heads or tails of most of the sections he was looking for. Though he could read most of it, some of it went far over his head--as plenty of cook books used preparation techniques that didn't necessarily involve ingredients he had ever heard of. It took him awhile to find cultural texts that actually gave him what he needed, presented easily enough for him to understand.

With the two or three books he managed to find that made sense, Ban stumbled into the kitchen on the second night and began trying out recipes. He didn't have any clue whatsoever as to why he was putting the effort in, but it was doing its job distracting him while he was drinking. Bottles of wine were stacked in one corner of Oska's gigantic kitchen as he tried out recipes, occasionally bringing a pencil down to pages to make his own 'corrections'.

Upon being discovered, Ban would hardly notice company. He would mutter to himself as he was poring through one of the poorly worded recipes, crossing something out and adding a correction in to compensate for what seemed to be the author's misunderstanding. Regardless, he was there nearly every night in the dead of night, drinking the night away and giving the kitchen a deeper aroma of more and more meals at odd hours.

Comments

[digophelia]

It's not unusual to find Alice wandering out early in the morning. Around the time Ban's in the kitchen, Alice has gone through the library to find more music books and bring them back to her room. With two decent-sized books in her room, Alice knows that she won't be sleeping anytime soon, Alice makes her way to the kitchen for tea.

Usually, no one is awake around this hour, save a few like herself that may find themselves unable to sleep. As she approaches the kitchen, she's not surprised to hear the sound of rustling in the kitchen. Hopefully, it's someone she knows.

I'll be quick. From behind the kitchen doors, it sounds like whoever is stepping in is hesitant to fully step in. It's Alice pepping behind the door as she steps in.

"of all things-" Alice mutters to herself, less than thrilled with the glimpse of Ban's shock of pale hair in full sight. She shuffles awkwardly in, making a b-line to the cabinets, hoping to never stop once, but curiosity catches her eye and she comes to a crawl reaching for a tea cup with a free hand.

"What on earth are you doing?" It leaves her mouth before she really thinks about it.

[perma_banned]

After putting in a great deal of work to correct one particular author on the best way to prepare a duck, Ban had done so himself with such ease that there was only one errant feather left behind in the wake of his work. It sat on his nose as Alice entered the room and raised her exclamation in his direction. Properly confused by her accusatory tone, Ban fed her a frown in return.

"The hell do you think somebody's gonna do in a kitchen?"

Knowing Ban, it was: stealing liquor, playing with knives, and making a huge mess. In a way, he was doing all three of those things to somewhat positive results.

[digophelia]

It's hard to tell what Ban may do on his own, therein lies the problem for Alice. He hadn't appeared in her room and she hadn't him stealing liquor in the kitchen, either. Just would he be cooking a supper for? Alice was still frozen in her position by the counter, reaching for a mug of tea. She isn't sure what she was expecting from him.

Alice eventually caved, forcing to use a step stool to reach for the top cabinet to gain that much-needed cup of tea and turn back to face Ban.

"Well, I don't know," She admitted with half a shrug, "I suppose I should ask who you're cooking for, should I?"

She has her tea and she has little reason to stay. And yet, still, Alice is here, watching Ban and hardly commenting on the feathers. She wasn't that hung up on Perdition's Rest. Was she? With a mutter on her breath, Alice took a too hot cup to her lips, wincing as she took too big of a sip.

"I feel like I have the answer to my question, already." It's hard to tell if Ban cares about anyone here, at all.

[perma_banned]

Burdened by habit, Ban let Alice's question fall flat for a few moments as he went about preparing the fowl for the pan. He didn't cook like chefs usually did, adding garnish for purely for aestheticism or even aroma. He simply dressed it down for taste and so that it would cook evenly. Despite the grace in his action, he let out a half burp from the top of his mouth that drifted out in a very uncomely manner. He tilted his head and gave Alice a sleepy look.

"Cookin' for...?" It was clear he hadn't heard her quiet rhetoric through and through. "Me. I'm eatin' everythin' I prepare."

[digophelia]

"Gross," Alice finds herself muttering under her breath following Ban's burp. She had entertained the idea of approaching closer to see what he was cooking. It didn't matter if there was garnishes or not, she liked food and the smell of it was already making her hungry.

She wouldn't bother asking him for a helping, she would wait until he left. It didn't matter, she reasoned with herself, she couldn't sleep now. "Ah, yes, that would be the answer. I had a feeling. That's quite a bit for one person, I hope it doesn't go to waste."

There were so many people out there who weren't as fortunate.

[perma_banned]

"If there isn't anyone awake to eat it, I will," It was a response driven home as something of a challenge. The meaning behind Ban's words was meant to stick a knife in the point of the conversation. If she was going to make her own implication, then so was he--though he was drunk enough to let it escalate to the fifth step before one even reached the staircase.

"Chefs abhor waste," Then, he began the process of sharpening a knife as he began hearing up one of the pans on the stove. "So, there won't be any."

[digophelia]

"Tentatively, Ban, I would say I would," She finds herself cringing and turns to look down at her bare feet, all the while resisting the urge to not lean on the counter. Her body is tired but her mind won't shut off. Maybe talking to Ban will get her to fall asleep.

"Though, I recall the last time that went," She remembers that he was pulled away by guards in the Chantes. To Alice, it just seemed like a terrible idea all around for them; they could tolerate themselves so much.

That is if Alice wasn't pressed by the seemingly nagging feelings to press him more about what happened on Perdition's Rest. At least Ban understood the severity of wasting food.

"I'm glad you'll enjoy it." Or something along the lines; Ban was never accepting of positivity and compliments.

[perma_banned]

Snorting, Ban's eyes fell to the food, itself. He had been sober at that time. Chantes' guards did a halfway decent job torturing him but a poor one of killing him by the end of it. He didn't even have the luxury of the job sticking in the end. Of course he remembered.

"Well, you know~" Ban looked to the stove and leaned in to lower the heat on one of the pans. "Everybody enjoys their own cooking. It's the effort involved."

[digophelia]

"I suppose so," Even agreeing to minor things with Ban is a struggle, since sometimes any mutual and somewhat civil discussions with him don't always seem to pan out well. "I was hoping to do that myself, at some point this evening --or morning--but-"

She wasn't completely comfortable sharing a kitchen with him and she made that very clear with her sour face and then proceeding to take a long sip of her tea in order to prevent herself from adding anything else to that sentence.

"I can wait, it isn't as if I will be sleeping. I'm sure you'll prefer a kitchen to yourself."

[araigneedusoir]

Wandering had become a steady habit ever since she'd arrived in Oska. It wasn't 'home' no matter how much she tried to convince herself it was, no matter how familiar she'd made herself with the castles many rooms and hallways. She was sure many others shared her thought and it made her wonder if they had settled regardless.

For her it ought to be too late to be still awake, to be walking alone as usual in the same relative silence she always enjoyed. Yet sleep hadn't come easy since the few night's after their return from Perdition's Rest. The answer as to why still evaded her.

At first she wasn't sure what attracted her to the kitchen until she notices the smell of cooking food and the noise behind the door. A moment later she's stepping inside, raising an eyebrow at the familiar figure within, her attention drifting slowly from his back to the collected wine.

Something she decides she might want to investigate, if there was any left.

"What brought this on?" She asks as she reaches for one of the bottles, turning it over in her hands.

[perma_banned]

As mysterious as Oska's ability to generate an infinite amount of food and drinks was its ability to be rid of garbage when it was overwhelming. The bottles of wine from the night before had disappeared, leaving the kitchen clean even as Ban passed out on the floor among them. Waking that morning with a distinct lack of glass to step on was nice for once, admittedly. As if the kitchen knew Widowmaker was interested--another full bottle of wine from an unknown, indecipherable country had popped into existence beside where she had picked up the empty one. Ban paused to eye it, wondering if he was thirsty.

One hand held up a cooking book and the other stowed a tray into one of the big metal ovens beyond Ban's mess. He removed another tray and set it down on top of the stove, steaming.

He had looked at Widowmaker a few moments longer before realizing she was talking to him. Perplexed, he answered the wrong question somewhat quickly after that, "It's not that I don't like wine--I just prefer other things."

[araigneedusoir]

The sudden appearance of another bottle drew her own attention, the empty bottle in her hands forgotten as she eyed the new one with a raised eyebrow. She set the other down a moment later to reach for the new one, humming lowly in approval. She always did enjoy trying new wines...

"That wasn't what I was referring to," she replied, her gaze shifting from the bottle to him as she went to find herself a proper wineglass. "I meant all this," she added, gesturing to the steaming tray of food.

Thankfully it didn't take her long to find what she was looking for, glass set down temporarily as she opened the bottle to fill it halfway. She left the bottle aside and out of his way before turning and leaning her hip against the nearby counter, lifting the glass up slightly.

[perma_banned]

"Ah," Not as foolish as he let on, it seemed Ban just wore his sense of priority a little off-kilter. He let that one slide, expecting that it would be stupid of him to get fussy over someone figuring out something he was good at that had nothing to do with killing someone. He tapped a few buttons on the oven to keep its temperature at the right adjustment before he moved to the refrigerator to open it up once again. There was a bit of digging on his part before he found what he wanted. He had read ahead a few pages and already had begun considering the changes he was going to make to the next recipe. "I'm a chef on the side."

Methodically, he set ingredients on the counter one by one in order of what he would be preparing and the time he'd have to set aside for them all. It was a recipe with duck as the main part of the dish and he was going about his business with a meticulous purpose--occasionally looking back to the book to cross something out and rewrite it.

"Couldn't sleep properly," He explained as he swapped from ingredients to the recipe with little to no pause. Ban looked from Widowmaker to the book and tapped one finger against its spine. "It's terrible, by the way, just in case you don't know. Most of these people don't know how to write recipes."

[araigneedusoir]

She settled more where she was, regarding him quietly over the edge of her glass as she awaited his response. The wine smelled half decent and with that small approval she took a sip, eyes tracking each movement her current company made. "A chef," she repeated finding it an interesting addition to the little things Ban had told her over the period of time they'd known one another.

So he did have other hobbies.

The glass was titled slightly again as she took another drink from it, letting out a small hum as he explained. It seemed they shared a common problem of which she thought little of so long as it didn't impact her own ability to function when mission time came. "Not everyone's a high caliber chef," she replied, lips curling slightly with the amusement laced in her tone.

[perma_banned]

Ban clucked his tongue in response. He supposed it made sense but it seemed troublesome that there were people with a larger abundance of time than him that couldn't properly write about their topic of obsession. He would have forgiven a number of the errors if they didn't make it seem as if their recipes were putting their ingredients to waste and that people weren't meant to eat the whole dishes. That irritated him. While Widowmaker had been in a pleasant enough mood to lounge and drink instead of venting her frustrations, Ban hadn't noticed what it was doing to his mood.

"Wastes food," He grumbled, pressing his thumb gently against one of the duck breasts he had been preparing, testing its tenderness and temperature. He had tried fresh duck and frozen duck and he was spotting the differences. Ban hadn't always been given the luxury of refrigerators, so even as an experienced chef he had to test the differences to see how it would affect cooking. Unpredictably, he didn't like how frozen ingredients came out when fully prepared. "People gotta learn this kinda thing to survive."

He sprinkled salt on it with his fingers and looked at Widowmaker directly, eyes falling to the glass of wine. He had seen the wine bottle appear before but seemed to forget that happened, "Wait-- d'you cook?"

[araigneedusoir]

Widowmaker was aware, at least in her experiences, that a lot of chefs prepared food for the presentation instead of consumption. To them it was all about making food look good to convince people to buy more instead of the actual quality of it. Wasteful, irritating and it never worked on her. She went in to any party or any show of prowess expecting one thing even if she was pretending to be impressed by another.

It made her huff slightly when he commented in unknown agreement to her thought process, gaze dropping to watch has he tested the duck. "Most people do learn the basics," she replied, stretching her shoulders enough to hear one pop slightly. "Just enough to survive, not enough to put on presentations."

Her eyes leapt back to his when she realized he was looking at her, mild surprise flicking across her features. "I used to. I don't so much anymore." Now that she was just preparing food for one.

[perma_banned]

"Civilians don't tend to extend their skills too much," Offhandedly, Ban let the comment slip as he gave a little pop in the duck's bones to loosen them and adjust them for a bit of stuffing. It was just a moment or so after Widowmaker popped her shoulder. The sound threw him off a little bit, so he made sure not to overcompensate and imitate the sound. He could easily ruin the bird that way.

Leaning back, Ban looked to Widowmaker with a bit of interest. He wondered if she was the sort of soldier who cooked for herself or managed on her own because of the job, so his question received a pretty good answer. Admittedly, he expected she would have answered by saying something the lines of her not trusting others to cook for her. Somehow, his expectation was somewhat betrayed.

"So, you're definitely right~. It's a bit dull that some folks eat just to make it from one day to the next."

[boneafide]

Sleeping is a thing Papyrus sort of does, sometimes. It's not like doesn't need to, or shouldn't. He just doesn't like to, really. Not without a bedtime story. But he's a big boy now, he can make his own decisions on if he's going to stay up or not. And he definitely is!!

Which leads to him also going into the kitchen eventually on one of his nights awake, and while he knows he shouldn't be surprised to find Ban here, he still is a little bit.

"Wowie, Ban! I thought you'd be passed out somewhere by now!!" Papyrus says cheerfully, taking a seat at one of the island countertops with a stood, and watching the other work on... something.

"What are you making this time?"

[perma_banned]

The first thing out of Ban as Papyrus made his welcomed entrance had a snort. Bent over one of the cookbooks with a scrutinous look, he had been in something of a foul mood, inwardly critiquing one of the authors as he had to repeatedly scratch out and rewrite instructions. It was clear that whoever wrote it only watched the preparation of food from afar and didn't really get to understand the gritty detail that went into it. They were spectators. Ban, to a point, would have been a horrible backseat driver.

"I slept around noon~. I'm wide awake nooow," Humming his answer, Ban rose into a good mood right away. He turned to face Papyrus partially, looking at him from an angle. The pencil in his hand was still poised as the stove hummed with heat and a pot sat, its lid occasionally stirring from built up steam within.

"Right now, I'm fixin' a recipe. It's called 'Ravioli'."

[boneafide]

"Fixing? Oh, like it was done wrong, and you're making it better! You always are good with improvising!" Papyrus says with a nod of approval. Improvising was definitely a positive spin on what Ban does, certainly.

"Ah!! Right, Ravioli!! You must have known I was coming, to be working on a pasta dish! And a classic one too- the dumpling-type pasta! The treasure chest of the culinary world!! So what are you putting inside this one? Gold, gems, or both??"

[perma_banned]

"Spinach," Ban responded with a ghostly grin. Spirits raised, oddly enough, by a friendly skeleton--he lifted the lid from the pot and checked the sleeves of ravioli for any shift in color. He wouldn't need to touch anything to tell whether or not any of it was raw.

With his pencil, Ban gestured to a second pot, "And, the sauce~."

Playing off of Papyrus' excitement, Ban held his eyes on the contents of the pot.

"So, would you rather have a treasure-chest and chip a few teeth or gobble down spinach and ricotta and keep your teeth~?"

[boneafide]

"Well, why else are they pockets and treasure chest-like if they aren't meant to hold treasure? Or are you saying spinach is the treasure here?" Which he's skeptical about, because no one thinks spinach is really particularly valuable, right.

"I know I'd put gold in mine, if I was making ravioli. Or had gold." So basically, reason #328 to not eat Papyrus' cooking. "But what kind of sauce is it? White or red?"

[perma_banned]

"Spinach sounds like it's a really lame sorta treasure," He admitted it pretty quickly though he did realize that any sort of food at all was a treasure to a poor, destitute street urchin. Forty years ago and Ban would have probably been so hungry he'd consider eating gold even before spending it. So, Papyrus wouldn't have disappointed him either way at that rate--

"And, I'm goin' with red. My vision's a bit too blurry to mix up white sauce at the moment~. It might end up bein' way too chunky."

[boneafide]

Once Ban admits spinach is lame, Papyrus places a hand on his chin to think, and eventually comes to the conclusion he's not entirely correct. "I'm also sure any pasta made by you would be like a treasure in how good it is!" Because it's true. Ban's cooking was absolutely a treasure in itself.

"I could help you with the white sauce!!"

DON'T LET HIM.

[perma_banned]

Knowing better than to blindly let Papyrus take the reigns, Ban fixed a placid expression on him. It was a loving gesture on his part and yet at the same time it was as cautious as one could be with a friend. He knew better than to blindly trust Papyrus the moment he became excited no matter how much he loved his best buddy.

It was knowledge of Papyrus' habits that trained Ban to think before giving him absolutely every bit of leeway imaginable.

"Well, I've already started the red sauce, so we'd be overdoin' it~. When's the last time you made white sauce, by the way?"