Kei
(๑✪ᆺ✪๑)
❝ Let's hope everyone had a heavy lunch today because the chicken might take a while…
VALERIE EVANS
“It’s the culinary equivalent of cooking trousers. It tastes like it was sewn up in the 1960s.”
Val’s eyes widened as her jaw slacked open to the scene unfolding in the tablet screen in front of her. She could see Gordin Ramsaid chew up and spit out a piece of what supposedly was medium rare steak. She understood that he was a tough critic; however, he always made the most creative insults she's ever heard.
"It's dry. The colour is matches my grandfather's old paisley button up. The only thing missing is the faint odour of moth balls."
Yikes! That must hurt. But he wasn't wrong. Having tasted steaks from fine dining restaurants before, she assessed that the steak was more well done than anything else. Then again, she didn't fair much better in the kitchen herself. Dishevelled brown locks tied together in a messy bun framed her white dusted face. An incident of being too close to the kitchen island whilst mixing a bowl of scrambled eggs and flour - she's afraid. Water ran from the drain washing the chunks of the mixture caked between her fingers. Why didn't she just cater food today again? Was it that she wanted to impress Zack, Drea, and Amelia with her cooking skills? At least she didn't have to crack too many eggs this time. The sixth time was the charm, right?
The chef's scalding commentary faded into the background as she flitted her way to the double oven. She estimated the time was about half an hour since she's put the chicken in again. But everything was still pink. Having stuck her hand into the machine, it didn't feel warm neither. She remembered turning the dial on several times only to get a ding. What a useless feature that was when the darn thing wouldn't even fire up! She could try letting it cook in her balcony. She had half a mind to simply go to the store and buy a giant magnifying glass and fry it like an egg the way kids tested how warm the sun was. Do they even make chicken-sized magnifying glasses?
She pulled the phone from her back pocket to test her luck. The biggest one she could find wasn't quite big enough for her chicken. A pigeon, perhaps? But who has the time to trap one of those from outside? Her guests were bound to ring the bell any second now. Without quite knowing it, Val turned the dial to the timer once again as she stuck the chicken inside. "Please, please cook!" Mumbling to the machine like a prayer to cooking gods. "I will donate a thousand dollars to the farmer that raised you!" She brought her arms forward and bowed to the oven.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
That was them! She quickly slammed her tablet shut from the table. Gordin was supposed to inspire her, but ended up as a distraction. Three episodes down and she still had no chicken and was half way to making the French omelettes she's seen in Youtube. Well, it didn't look bubbly and aerated yet since she hasn't whisked it, but she will once she gets back to the kitchen. The island - still littered with egg shells and a small trail of flour dust - proved the difficulty of her endeavour so she swiped them away to the sink with the nearest dish rag. At least she had the fruit that she laboured in cutting from the morning. She took the frozen foods from the freezer and laid it out on the table.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
"I'm coming!" she ran past the marbled floors and the high ceiling from the kitchen to the living room. The walls were decorated with framed pictures of her friends and co-workers in SWBN; albeit, little interludes of child-like drawings from Julia. She didn't care that none of it fit the chic modern interior white walls and golden candelabras. These were the pictures that made the space feel like home. She wiped her cheeks unaware of the white streak on her forehead before ducking out of the apron on her chest. With the crumpled fabric on her hands, she opened the doors and welcomed everyone in.
"Hi everyone! Please come in!" she smiled, moving towards the left side to allow everyone through. She heard Julia giggle and point to her forehead, "Yeah, sorry for the mess!" Following behind the group, she mentioned as they made themselves comfortable, "I hope everyone's in the mood for frozen mangoes and peaches!"
Val’s eyes widened as her jaw slacked open to the scene unfolding in the tablet screen in front of her. She could see Gordin Ramsaid chew up and spit out a piece of what supposedly was medium rare steak. She understood that he was a tough critic; however, he always made the most creative insults she's ever heard.
"It's dry. The colour is matches my grandfather's old paisley button up. The only thing missing is the faint odour of moth balls."
Yikes! That must hurt. But he wasn't wrong. Having tasted steaks from fine dining restaurants before, she assessed that the steak was more well done than anything else. Then again, she didn't fair much better in the kitchen herself. Dishevelled brown locks tied together in a messy bun framed her white dusted face. An incident of being too close to the kitchen island whilst mixing a bowl of scrambled eggs and flour - she's afraid. Water ran from the drain washing the chunks of the mixture caked between her fingers. Why didn't she just cater food today again? Was it that she wanted to impress Zack, Drea, and Amelia with her cooking skills? At least she didn't have to crack too many eggs this time. The sixth time was the charm, right?
The chef's scalding commentary faded into the background as she flitted her way to the double oven. She estimated the time was about half an hour since she's put the chicken in again. But everything was still pink. Having stuck her hand into the machine, it didn't feel warm neither. She remembered turning the dial on several times only to get a ding. What a useless feature that was when the darn thing wouldn't even fire up! She could try letting it cook in her balcony. She had half a mind to simply go to the store and buy a giant magnifying glass and fry it like an egg the way kids tested how warm the sun was. Do they even make chicken-sized magnifying glasses?
She pulled the phone from her back pocket to test her luck. The biggest one she could find wasn't quite big enough for her chicken. A pigeon, perhaps? But who has the time to trap one of those from outside? Her guests were bound to ring the bell any second now. Without quite knowing it, Val turned the dial to the timer once again as she stuck the chicken inside. "Please, please cook!" Mumbling to the machine like a prayer to cooking gods. "I will donate a thousand dollars to the farmer that raised you!" She brought her arms forward and bowed to the oven.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
That was them! She quickly slammed her tablet shut from the table. Gordin was supposed to inspire her, but ended up as a distraction. Three episodes down and she still had no chicken and was half way to making the French omelettes she's seen in Youtube. Well, it didn't look bubbly and aerated yet since she hasn't whisked it, but she will once she gets back to the kitchen. The island - still littered with egg shells and a small trail of flour dust - proved the difficulty of her endeavour so she swiped them away to the sink with the nearest dish rag. At least she had the fruit that she laboured in cutting from the morning. She took the frozen foods from the freezer and laid it out on the table.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
"I'm coming!" she ran past the marbled floors and the high ceiling from the kitchen to the living room. The walls were decorated with framed pictures of her friends and co-workers in SWBN; albeit, little interludes of child-like drawings from Julia. She didn't care that none of it fit the chic modern interior white walls and golden candelabras. These were the pictures that made the space feel like home. She wiped her cheeks unaware of the white streak on her forehead before ducking out of the apron on her chest. With the crumpled fabric on her hands, she opened the doors and welcomed everyone in.
"Hi everyone! Please come in!" she smiled, moving towards the left side to allow everyone through. She heard Julia giggle and point to her forehead, "Yeah, sorry for the mess!" Following behind the group, she mentioned as they made themselves comfortable, "I hope everyone's in the mood for frozen mangoes and peaches!"
➜ LOCATION: At Home | ➜ INTERACTIONS: Drea (
Colorless Spectrum
) and Zack (
AI10100
) | ➜ MOOD: Praying and bribing her way to appease the cooking gods
Colorless Spectrum
) and Zack (
AI10100
) | ➜ MOOD: Praying and bribing her way to appease the cooking gods
