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CHARACTERS: Firo Prochainezo and anyone!
LOCATION: Kitchens
WARNINGS: Possible cursing, reckless use of kitchen appliances
SUMMARY: Firo cooks and discovers technology

Firo’s bustling around the kitchen, taking up more space on the stove and counter than probably is courteous. He wasn’t so pleased with one of the “gifts” he received last jump, but he is very happy to try out the Alveare honey that somehow found its way into his locker. The ingredients on the Tranquility being somewhat limited, he knows he can’t exactly replicate Sena’s cooking; he still wants to try with what he has.

By the time he’s finishing up, there’s more than enough food for a few people, so he’s setting out bowls of improvised noodle or vegetable soup on the counter in case anyone happens by. With so many \on board, someone’s bound to need it. So long as they don’t mind the peculiar honey scent coming off of them, it should work out.

Of course, it all doesn't go as planned. Curiosity beats out sense and Firo decides to try reheating a bowl of soup that’s sat out too long in the microwave as opposed to using the stove again. It’s new and strange and he wants to take it for a spin. It won’t mind if he accidentally leaves the spoon he used for tasting in the bowl, right?

The small flame appearing on the metal spoon inside shows that the machine begs to differ, leaving Firo staring at the spectacle and mumbling to himself, “Is that… Is that supposed to happen?”

[ooc: Prose or brackets is fine!]

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You know, he's spent enough time around kitchens and people nearly burning them down that it's rather common to walk in to the scent of smoke. Nevertheless Bardo can never quite manage to put out the small flicker of panic it induces. Which is probably a good instinct, truth be told. For now, he sidles up to Firo and looks around for the fire before spotting the flaming microwave.

"...ah, no I don't think so." He doesn't move though, how does one use that device...

He glances over. "It's not?" Now he looks a little worried, so much so that he doesn't bother giving Bardo a proper greeting. He'd been letting the microwave go because he figured the fire was some fancy way of future cooking--aren't there people who light their food on fire in his time? Firo doesn't understand it, but, hey, whatever works.

The microwave shows no sign of stopping by itself as Firo turns back to the problem at hand. "...How do I turn it off?" It probably would have been a good idea to figure that out before using it. He only managed to turn the thing on through luck and randomly pressing half the buttons.

Bardo doesn't look too worried, though his ears lower a bit, and takes a step closer so he can try and figure out the microwave. The spoon continues cheerily flaming, and he inches back again.

"I dunno, how'd y'turn it on?"

Please tell him you didn't just push buttons, Firo, please.

It's about now that the soup adds to the chaos by starting to bubble. If Bardo knows how to read the timer, he may have noticed it's counting down from about 7 and a half minutes. It's probably not going to stop in time on its own.

"Um, well." Firo hesitantly holds his hand up to the panel, waving it around to indicate, yes, all the buttons. "I just pressed some a' those. Like, some of the numbers and then... This one?" No, Firo, that's the button for the light. Now the burning spoon is the only source of light in the microwave; it could be pretty, in a kind of eerie way.

Those slowly dwindling 7 and a half minutes have him filled with dread, ears flattening against his skull as the bright lights wind down. He doesn't necessarily know how timers work and all that, but he's a smart enough cat to realize that it's probably not a good thing when there's a bubbling, sparking, thing happening.

Bardo's tail lashes unbidden when the light flicks off and the flame just throws it all into stark relief. "Push another one, maybe it'll work."

"You think?" He's staring at the panel, frantically searching for the proper button. "But none of these look like it'll turn it off!"

While he flusters, the flame looks like it's growing. Frustrated, he does something that he's sure won't work but merits a try; he grabs the handle and pulls as hard as he can. Contrary to his expectations, it opens easily and he nearly stumbles into Bardo. "Wha-!"

"Might as well try," There's a frown at his lips, as the spoon keeps on cheerily burning. The kitchen smells acrid and metallic to his nose, something he tries to avoid in general. So once Firo finally stops dithering (the flame reaches higher, sending off sparks) and reaches out to yank open the microwave, Bardo's relieved.

But only for a moment, because the next he's got to keep Firo on his feet and not tripping over into him. The smell of burning metal is even worse now, and his nose wrinkles up in disgust.

"Well that worked."

Firo regains his balance and peeks into the microwave, wrinkling his nose as the smell gets worse closer up. "...Yeah. Thankfully." All things considered, it could have turned out worse. At least the whole kitchen's not on fire.

"Still gotta get rid of this somehow..." Moving quickly, he grabs the bowl, wincing at the heat, and tosses it into the nearest sink. Predictably, it breaks, and that does nothing to help the flaming spoon, but at least it's contained. Firo wrings his hand to relieve the pain as the burn slowly heals itself--something he didn't think about before planning his course of action. If his thought process could be called "planning."

Bardo's fur bristles at the scent, and further at the shock of Firo calmly reaching in and pulling a bowl that's on fire out. That's not safe, Firo what are you doing!!! He startles forward, hand outstretched as if to stop him--but the bowls already clattering apart in the sink and Firo's doing complex finger wringing.

"Are you alright?" Basically going to snatch his wrist and turn his hand palm up to inspect the damage---oh. That's....weird....

He's not fast enough to jerk his hand away when Bardo reaches for it. "Huh-? Hey!"

Well, shoot, Firo didn't think of this little issue coming up. He's been growing more open with his personal information on the Tranquility--it's not like they can arrest him here--but the whole immortal thing he's kept under wraps. Mind racing as he tries to think of an unexciting explanation, he shrugs, "...Guess it wasn't that hot after all."

It's a weak excuse, and he knows Bardo would have to be even stupider than Firo himself to believe it. He tries to tug his hand away, and if Bardo lets go of it, he'll walk over to the sink and run cold water over the remnants of the bowl. Not that it'll help now.

He lets go easily, and watches Firo scuttle over to the sink and run cold water over hand and bowl. Bardo's quiet for a long moment, ears twitching before lying flat against his skull as he tries to figure out what just happened. It's not really in his nature to pry, especially as it seems like something Firo wants to keep hidden, but he can't really help it now.

"You're really not hurt?" He looked but.... "That should have burned your hand."

It was on fire, his nose still burns from the scent of it.

"Guess I should just throw this out. What a mess..." Turning off the water, he picks up the shards and moves to toss them in the trash. There's no use keeping it around, and maybe if it's quickly buried in the trash Firo won't get in trouble with anyone.

He stops mumbling to himself and looks over his shoulder at Bardo. With a shrug, he says, "You think so? Maybe I got lucky."

"Anyway, um--" He looks around for a distraction and finds it resting on the counter. He gestures--with the hand that didn't touch the burnt bowl--to the remaining bowls of soup on the counter. "Do you want any? It might've gotten cold, but we can heat it up. On the stove." He probably shouldn't go near that microwave any time soon.

One thing he's known for, is the fact that Bardo can take a hint. It helped him in his job (both, if he was telling the truth!) and it's why now he can just frown and nod, tail twitching as he lets it go. Firo obviously doesn't want to talk about it, and he won't push just yet. But maybe later Firo will be comfortable enough to tell him.

"Maybe." It's an echo, but still he steps closer and looks at the bowls of soup. Behind the smell of burnt plastic and food, there's something like honey and comfort food.

"Sure, I'll take some." But definitely going to heat it up on the stove, he doesn't trust the Microwaves any more than Firo does now.

It's a weird trait for a gangster, but Firo enjoys giving people food and so he smiles when Bardo takes him up on the offer. Perhaps it's because he used to have to struggle for every crumb and being able to share without going hungry is something new. Or maybe because it just seems like a nice thing to do. Firo's not much one to analyze his own reasons.

"All right. I hope you don't mind sweet things. This is a recipe from back home and Sena--the lady who made it up--puts honey in everything." His smile fades slightly as he recalls Alveare and all its warmth and noise when everyone got together. This place could hardly be more different.

Shaking his head to clear that memory, he sets a pot back on the stove. "Noodle or vegetable?"

Hey now, he can't judge! Bardo went from bounty hunter to Inn owner, there's probably a big gap between the two but oh well. It works for him and that's all that matters! So he kind of lingers at Firo's shoulder, nose twitching and ears perking forward as he peers into the pot.

There's a moment of contemplation because Bardo really isn't picky and good food is good food! But still.

"Noodle?" Yeah he just mentally tossed a coin for that. "It smells good, could I get the recipe from you later? If you don't think she'd mind, that is?"

"Comin' right up." He searches for the appropriate bowl and dumps its content back into the pot to heat it back up. Stirring it occasionally, he looks over at Bardo to continue the conversation.

"She wouldn't mind at all! I think she'd love to know somebody from another world knew how to make it." He grins, "Especially since it means you can't compete with her." Alveare relies on its devoted customers who've acquired the taste for its unusual food. They'd be out of business if someone else had been bold (or crazy) enough to try the same thing.

"Yeah?" He tips his head back and laughs, liking the sound of such a feisty woman. "She sounds like my mother, she's like that too."

Ah, he hasn't thought about his mother in a long while, better not to worry when there's nothing he can do for her, right? Still, Bardo pulls away and leans back against the counter. "Does Sena run your work then?"

Firo smiles. Much as he dislikes being treated like a kid, he does like Sena treating him as her son and she's more of a mother to him than the birth mother he hardly remembers. Even if she says she finds him embarrassing. "Really? Your mom must be an interesting person." Sena has to be pretty tough to hang out with gangsters and boss them around.

"Not my work. It's... It's kinda hard to explain." Without getting too much into the actual Family business. He shrugs, stirring the soup. "We work for the same person, basically, but we do separate things. She runs her part of it--nobody can boss her around."

His mother might not hang out with gangsters, but she was certainly tough to have to live and not succumb to a disease that practically targeted female cats and nearly wiped out a species. She a tough old cat, and Bardo's certainly a mama's boy when it comes down to it.

"I like to think so, but that might be bias."

Still, Bardo's ears flick forward as he chuckles and Firo continues on. "I wish I could have met her, she seems like someone I'd like to know."

"Nothin' wrong with that. What's she like?" If he's recalling their earlier agreement correctly, Firo's supposed to be the one ponying up stories in exchange for an eventual visit to that fruit tree. But surely this is okay?

Firo grabs an extra spoon to give the soup a quick taste; it's not quite ready yet. "If she was here, I wouldn't mind introducin' you two." Heck, she'd probably make Firo introduce her to everybody he ever talked to on the ship. "But it's probably better she's not. She'd nag everybody about if they were eatin' right and to stay away from the space rats." He says it as a joke, not wanting to touch the obvious reason that being on the Tranquility sucks.

"Stubborn!" He laughs, fondness coloring his tone. "I haven't seen her in years, not since I settled in Ransen, and before that. But she was always strong willed and loud with her views, prob'ly what kept her alive."

He should probably sound bitter with that, the fact that his world was falling apart around the people who lived there. But Bardo has had a long time to get used to that, it's simply a fact to him. So Bardo's lips curl up in a soft smile and he turns his head to watch Firo, tail twitching against the counter behind him.

"Yeah? She'd be pretty smart then."

Firo laughs with him; there's something contagious about laughter in such a gloomy place. He turns back to stirring for a moment, and once the laughter has faded, he asks cautiously: "Kept her alive?" By his line of thinking, the question can't be that offensive since it seems she's all right, but it's not the kind of thing you can ask with a smile on your face.

"Smart, yeah. 'The only person with any sense around here' is probably how she'd put it." Sena's "kids" may regularly risk their skins for business and each other, but that doesn't mean she can't nag and scold them for doing it. Going after the rats (like Firo wants to) is exactly the sort of thing she'd dismiss as a pointless risk.

"Hm?" His attention had wandered already, though admittedly not very far because Bardo was thinking about his mother and his world, about what he'd left behind and what little waited anyway. "Ah--yes, well, my world isn't really all that pleasant."

Again, it's straightforward, a simple fact. There's a hint of grimness at the corners of his mouth, a tightness that wasn't necessarily there before. It eases a bit at the way Sena comes alive before him, a far more pleasant reminder than the mess he was stuck in. There's a soft huff of laughter, smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

"Always goin' to be someone like that, hm?"

"...Oh. 'M sorry to hear that." What's so bad about it; he wants to know. But even Firo knows that's rude to ask, especially when they don't know each other too well yet and Bardo looks a bit upset at the mention. "Hope she's all right.

"Yeah. I've gotten used to it over the years, so now..." So now it's a bit weird going through his day without her corrections and unsolicited advice.

He doesn't want to dwell on what he's lost, not now, and so he starts dishing out Bardo's soup. He fills it until it's in danger of overflowing, then steps aside so Bardo can reach it. "Here ya go. It's a bit hot."

"'s fine, not a fault of yours." There's a nod though, to show that yeah his mother's fine even if he hadn't talked to her or seen Setsura in a while. Letters will have to work though, because an Innkeeper doesn't really have time off. But he doesn't mind that.

Still, there's a startled step forward and Bardo plucks the bowl away from where it's sitting with a smile. He moves over and sets it at a table, scrounging around for spoons and napkins, and sets the table for the both of them.

"Thank you, I'm sure it'll be delicious." A pause and, "Would you like me to get something to drink?"

He nods; so long as she's fine and Bardo doesn't seem too upset.

Firo's picks up a bowl for himself and smiles when he turns around to see the table all set up already. "...Oh, thanks." He plops down, carefully stirring his soup.

"Sure. I'll take whatever you're havin'." No sense in making more work for Bardo, and he's sure the guy won't choose anything too weird. A moment later he adds, "Please."

Hey he can't help it okay, long years spent as an Innkeeper have ingrained it in him, but also years where he cooked for family and friends alike. There's a quick nod and smile and the clack of nails on glass as Bardo pulls out some glasses. It's quick work to fill it with ice and snag some water, because sorry Firo but he's a cat and long hours in the gardens means its necessary.

"Here y'go." Set off to the side in front of Firo, and Bardo plops down at his own space, spoon twirling between fingers before he tucks in.

"Thanks!" Firo takes a sip before picking up his spoon. He doesn't make a move to eat yet, just stirs the bowl a few times as he mentally goes through all the ingredients to make sure he made it correctly.

He watches Bardo closely. The honey gives the soup a faint sweetness that isn't for everyone. He didn't complain on his first taste--he was too happy to have something to eat--but he worries this guy might hide any complaints out of politeness. "What do you think?"

It is faintly sweet, and heightened senses pick that up more than others might -- but Bardo's a fan of sweets and honey alike and with a quirked brow he tries another spoonful. And another.

"It's good." He's a bit surprised despite his earlier words, but it's said with a smile and he means it.

Before Firo can hide it, a joyful, childish smile flickers across his face. It's similar to the reaction he had the first time he fed Ennis; he likes to know he's good at something, and he likes making people happy.

He ducks his head to hide his reaction and decides to use Bardo's surprise for some teasing. He needs to deflect attention somehow. "What? You didn't think I could pull it off?"

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/headcanons about ketmama

/aggressively coos over your headcanon

oh bb /swoon

/catches and makes eyes at you

/eyes back gently

/whisks you away like an enamored chef would a beautiful egg

dont hate me cus im beautiful!!!!

What if I love you because you're beautiful? D:<

o-oh ///

/holds

/leans on dramatically

/tips over

wow

I'm not a bookend; you can't lean on me!