crescentview | winter catch-all

[Big hands and they have limited oven space. And patience.

Owen shoves an empty bowl towards Otegine.]

Mix all the dry things in this bowl and think about what you want our house to look like. Maybe draw it out.

[He has something to draw with… somewhere? Probably in his suitcase, like most things.]

[Dry things... well, he can at least assume the flour and sugar as Owen portions them out, coughing a bit into his elbow at the cloud the flour produces.]

Mm... well, um...

Maybe like one of the farmhouses? The only other kind of house I'm used to isn't anything like these...

You have a manor back home, right?

There was a manor the Sage’s wizards could live in if they wished, but it might be hard to replicate for your first try.

[Considering it housed over 20 people, it’s pretty hecking big.

He plonks all the spices they’ll need next to Otegine.]

A farm house is fine.

[He double checks that the oven is getting hot, before glancing back to Otegine.]

It’s as good a home as any.

Mn.

It's probably easier this way. The citadel I'm used to is way too big.

[50+ people staying in one complex and memories of nothing but castles leads for weird expectations of "home".

The spices are curiously examined one by one as he tips them in, idly mixing as he thinks.]

...It had little pink flowers on the grounds. Right?

[Perhaps wisely, he won't mention where he heard of them. It had been a while since the little Owen had brought them up... maybe this Owen would remember what they were.]

[They have to keep their expectations low.]

…It did. There were a lot of flowerbeds around the manor.

[It’s no real mystery how he knows that, but… he can at least begrudgingly appreciate not drawing attention to it.

Unfortunately, though…]

I don’t really know what most of them were. Native to Central, probably, but they weren’t magical in nature.

[So he didn’t bother to learn what they were… He just knows they wouldn’t have flourished in the North.]

Mn...

Well, Oriphi's got a flowershop in town now. Maybe you could show me sometime if there's something there that matches it?

[They never did find anything, he and the little one... but Ori had some interesting powers. Maybe they'd get surprised.

He settles the mixed bowl down against the counter, glancing at the worn watch against his wrist.]

Ah... I can keep going with this if you want to check the tea. What else does this need?

[He gestures at the rest of the ingredients he has spread out on the counter - good luck finding out what to do next, because he doesn't have a recipe to share. If Otegine beefs it, Owen can fix it.]

All of that.

[help

this is not the proper way to make cookies]

...Does she have much knowledge of other worlds and their flowers?

Oh.

[He looks at the rest of what's laid out, with cups and spoons that he doesn't understand, then looks back at Owen.]

Uh. Just... as it is?

[That's a lot of eggs. Like, a lot of eggs.

He picks one up, studying it.]

I don't know! She knows more than I do, and she knows it well enough to have a shop around it. The least we can do is ask, right?

No? You’d just… be making a gross omelette at that rate or something?

[Let him actually manage to pour the tea this time, looking back at Otegine to make sure he didn’t irreparably ruin the cookies.]

…She’s the healing woman, right?

Yeah, that's her. Short with the horns and the colorful complexion, friendly, kind of shy... she's not a wizard, but she does magic like you do.

[meanwhile: cue the dial up tones as he continues to squint at the egg]

So... not all of them, then.

Uh, how much?

Mm. She has a store about… flowers? Why?

[Buying flowers seems stupid when you can just go out and pick them, but if she knows anything about them… Maybe she’d recognize some of the flowers that grow back home.

He squints at Otegine, placing the cups of tea on the table.]

Just one.

Mn. Thank you.

[One egg only, it is. Time to whisk vigorously.

As for Ori?]

Who knows? She's good at what she does, and she's happy. Does there have to be another reason??

She makes crafts and arrangements. She has some pre-made stuff, but people can also ask her for things like special bouquets and she'll find and arrange certain types or colors of flowers for them.

Do people really need flowers that much?

[Surprisingly, he’s not asking that just to be an asshole. He legitimately doesn’t get why flowers are such a big deal and why you’d have to arrange them…

Maybe spending most of his time in a forest has skewed his perspective.]

Well, whatever. How’s the dough looking?

I don't really know! You can use some of them as medicine, but I don't think that's what she likes? It's more... art, I guess. Something to look pretty and make people feel happier.

[He's a piece of art, not an artist. He doesn't really get all the details.

Hm. he looks at the dough, still mostly dry with One Egg now at least trying to have a party.]

Uh. Crumbly, not really dough. We still have butter out and... uh, what is this... [He picks up the jar set on the counter, studying the label.] "Molasses"?

I can't really do "one" of these ones.

[None of this makes any sense to Owen. That all seems pointless, but if people will give her money for it...

Well. Whatever.]

Well, taste it, then add as much as you like to the cookies.

[He absolutely knows this is going to go terribly but he also wants to see how Otegine handles molasses. It's getting warmer in the kitchen as the oven comes to temperature, but it's still a bit nippy in the farmhouse. That's how Owen likes it, though.

These poor cookies.]

Eh? I mean, if you're sure...

[Butter he at least tries first - they need something to make the dough actually stick together, right? Except it's not softened, so rip watching him have to stir more strenuosly than needed.

He will take a second to taste the molasses, face twisting a bit. Extremely sweet, a tiny bit bitter... but Owen liked sweet things, didn't he?

Except he can't quite seem to get it out of the jar.

Owen can watch Otegine's face quickly flatten as he tips the jar over, quickly losing patience when nothing budges. It quickly becomes a war at the inside of the jar, stabbing at it with a teaspoon. How much is in the batter at this point? Does it truly matter, when there's a battle to be won against sugar?

Eventually, he slams the jar down with a clatter of the spoon in the sink and a triumphant little grin and probably 3/4ths a cup too much molasses in the dough.]

There-- finally!! I got it!

[Oh. Oh no. Oh, this is incredible to watch. That’s way, way, way too much molasses, but he doesn’t have the heart to interrupt this battle.

Mostly because he’s heartless enough to speak up once Otegine’s done, peering into the bowl.]

The usual recipe asks for far less less then that.

[Not that Otegine has any way to know that.]

These might turn out interesting.

winter catch-all

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