point and shoot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storyseeker) wrote2017-09-14 09:28 pm
storyseeker) wrote2017-09-14 09:28 pmIC Contact (Hadriel)
This is Elena. Leave a message, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.
storyseeker) wrote2017-09-14 09:28 pm
SHHHSHSH UR FINE
cool, cool
wanna help me make em?
we got a big kitchen
i already have the butter but yknow
otherwise theyre just the same as normal brownies
no subject
That sounds goddamn great right now
Let's do it
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trust me i got a killer recipe
come on over
ive got supplies
dont go to the front door come along the left side and yell to the window
trust me
[And true to form, he'll be in the kitchen getting stuff set up. Fuck going down stairs and making Elena come up them. This is the point where he gets big fancy with magic just for the fun of it.]
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See you soon.
[It doesn't take her long to get there. She wouldn't mind the stairs, she's in plenty of shape for them not to wind her, but Taako must have had a reason for his directions, so she does as requested, squinting up at the window.]
Hey! TAAKO! It's Elena, let me in!
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Hell yeah. C'mon up, mamasita.
[He'll wave his hand and mutter something she can't hear and in a moment, a large transluscent hand appears outside, seeming to mimic the movements of his own arm. It lowers to the ground next to her, palm out, inviting her to get on.]
Look at that, I invented the elevator now! Suck it, Lucas.
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Do I wanna know who Lucas is or should that stay hidden, contributing to your image as an international wizard of mystery?
[Or however one describes Taako. There are so many ways.]
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Still, the hand raises back up to the window, which Taako has pushed open as far as it'll go go let her in.]
Oh, he's an asshole who almost destroyed the world once. We kicked his ass. Also kind of how I met my boyfriend? Long story.
[The kitchen already seems to be set out, sacks of flour and baking powder and cocoa piled on a countertop, another spectral hand behind him retrieving some eggs from the fridge.]
So you know how to cook, right? Even if you do, Taako don't play sous, so I'm still gonna tell you what to do.
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Wouldn't mind hearing the story.
[Although possibly not today. It really depends on Taako. They're here to wallow and get wasted, and all other concerns are secondary.]
But go ahead and tell me what needs done. I can do all right, but you're the pro.
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I mean, the long story short of it is this idiot decided to try and rez his dead mom and stuff her soul in a robot, and he used this super powerful relic to do it, except undead souls have a way of uh, going totally crazy? So said relic started covering everything in gemstones and almost covered the whole world. Sooooo me, Mags, 'n Merle kicked his ass and rook the relic. Bing bang boom.
[He just casually won't mention it's kind-of-sort-of his fault that thing existed in the first place. That's a lot.]
Anyway, go ahead and measure out the dry stuff, we need flour, cocoa powder, baking powder n salt. Ya just dump it in a bowl and stir, real easy.
[He actually does seem to have a cookbook of some kind laid out on the table, though it's handwritten. If he's remembering Lup, he's certainly picked a way to do it. Their handwriting may be too similar to tell the difference- just one of the things they share- but it's undoubtedly theirs.]
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Taako, do me a favor? Forget what I said before. Never give me context or further details. There's nothing you could say that could make that story better than what you just said.
[It's lacking just enough content to leave her on the edge of extreme curiosity forever. In a way, it's beautiful. And it's one more decent partial distraction, when she's stockpiling as many as she can.]
On it, chief. You lead, I'll follow.
[And she does a decent job of it as she follows his instructions. Dumping, stirring, check.]
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Oh buddy, I got a thousand of those. How about the time I made a whole train disappear? Won a death race on a motorcycle I stole? No, wait, I have met a god. Two gods? At least two.
[It's easier to pick stuff from recent memory, because none of it involves her. It's fun to think about that time at the Bureau without all the context around it.
Meanwhile, he's cracking eggs into a bowl, measuring out butter and a bit of milk. He's barely even looking at it, two smaller translucent hands giving him the actual items as he talks.]
Trust me, I have a ton of this shit. Like, not to call humans out, but I've literally been around like 250 years, it's been a llllot.
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God, we must look like little babies to you. How old is 250 in elf years? Teenager, younger adult...?
[For all she knows, this is what their elder statesmen look like. She smiles as they work, because it's easy to pretend that this is nothing more than a cooking session between friends. But they both know it won't last.]
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Nah that's like, pretty solidly adult. We look like any other adult person by the time we're like, 25, but most elves have this whole thing where you don't know enough of the world until you're a hundred to say you're an adult. Which as far as I'm concerned is just a way to be racist against people who don't live as long? So like, we look physically like adults at the same pace, but we just kinda hit the pause on that whole age thing for uhhhh another 500 years.
[Something like that. He hasn't truthfully been keeping track so well.]
Some people claim elves can make it to a thousand, but I kinda doubt I'll go that long, like ugh. That sounds like a lot, y'know? But I'm not like, old, by elf terms. Also a hundred years of that literally didn't count due to some weird ass magic, soooo what do I know. How's the dry stuff comin'?
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Doesn't sound so different from human young adults in some ways. Don't get me wrong, teenagers can be absolute idiots--I know I was sometimes, and I was allegedly one of the 'very mature for my age' ones--but there's this stretch of time where you're old enough to fight in a war but not enough to decide whether you can drink or get good car insurance. Extending that to 100 would just piss people off. Anyway, here you go.
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Yeah, it's stupid. That's why Lup and I are better elves. Elves like, 5.0. Skippin' right over that 2 through 4 biz.
[He's had more chances than most, though. A lot more. His face crumples slightly at the mention of her name, mouth pulling towards a frown.]
She's... I mean, we've seen a lot. That's just what happened. It's not a big thing.
[As if those circumstances didn't change his entire life, or something.]
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[She won't make it a big thing whether or not it should be one, though, because they're dancing around the topic of what they've lost and they both know it. It's why they're here at all; there's no forgetting the great big elephant taking up most of the space in the room.
But they can slide around the edges. Maybe.]
I haven't baked anything in a long time. Or gotten baked.
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Yeah, 'cuz you freaked out last time. No reason not to cook around here, though. Don't tell me you just eat shit out of the can around here, that sucks.
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[Just her luck. Bad reaction to toking up, a lying husband, a missing husband...]
And no, no we don't. But there's space between shit from a can and a gourmet meal.
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Look, it's gonna be fine. Actually, better than fine, gonna rock more than whatever passes for the food you just described. Like, don't tell me- you put it on a plate. Because that's just as bad! Nothing out of cans here is just okay, jeez. Y'know, Lup and I swear by the seasonings around here, or at least what we got left after the orchard did, y'know, some dumb shit. A little goes a looong way. Unless Nateyboy knows more about cooking than I thought.
[He probably shouldn't have mentioned Lup. Or Nate. But fuck it, he's so goddamn tired of being sad. He wants to get fun baked, so maybe he has to just punch a hole in the entire ordeal.]