http://cooperating.livejournal.com/ (
cooperating.livejournal.com) wrote in
tampered2007-09-06 05:47 pm
Log; Complete
When; September 6th [Right Now].
Rating; PG [Really Bad Cooking].
Characters; Ashe [
resolving] & Larsa [
cooperating].
Summary; There is a reason that royalty have servants. This is one of them.
Log;
Convenience Store, the sign said, but it sure wasn't very convenient at all. They had spent almost two hours walking through the aisles trying to find at least one thing that might be edible. All those metal-like objects could not possibly be food. It didn't help much that the meats and vegetables were placed at the very back of the store. She had to admit, the feeling of accomplishment at finally having bought food for herself almost made up for it. It should not take so much time or frustration next time.
Now standing in front of the two marinated pieces of steak and the strange contraption called 'stove,' her frustration rose again. The device had a manual, but it was written in a strange language. The pictures indicated turning some dials, but it still refused to ignite no matter how many times she tried. With an indignant huff at the disobedient object, she pushed the knob forcefully and turned it.
A crackling sound and the fire is lit! She felt like jumping up and down, but remembered Larsa. Instead, she smiled contentedly to herself as she pushed the long steel poles through the pieces of steak, humming a little happy tune.
Not only had the store been very inconvenient, but the woman at the register had been terribly rude. He didn't much like being referred to as 'boy', but had kept his mouth shut so long as she had refrained from insulting Ashe. What was more, he barely had enough money to purchase the food. What little he did have, he had accidentally earned when helping an elderly woman down the stairs.
Realizing that they would need to find a job the next day or risk having to hunt in the woods, the boy became a bit distracted while working on his supposedly simple project of making a salad. There was no cooking required; only cutting. He admitted to being somewhat talented with a blade, but this was a little different. It took intense concentration to make the 'cucumber' slices perfectly even. An uneven slice simply would not do.
The lettuce provided a startling problem. Was he supposed to cut it, or shred it? How big were the pieces supposed to be? What if it looked terrible?
Somewhat disheartened by this road block, Larsa stared at the head of lettuce while trying to figure out the best approach. He thought about asking Ashe, but doubted she would know any better. Then again, as he looked over his shoulder, he noticed that she seemed to be handling herself rather well with those steaks.
He did wonder what sort of meat they were made out of, though. The humming made his smile return as he watched, curious. Did she really know what she was doing?
Honestly, she did not know. She had asked for "a proper sort of meat, please," and the man over the counter had given her a strange look and made her buy these ones. It seemed edible enough, and the lady before her had purchased the same. It should be safe. Having neatly pushed the steel pole through exactly the middle of the pieces of steak, she held it above the stove, wondering just how far it should be from the fire.
She had watched Basch and Penelo handle food before, but they had always insisted she rest so she was never able to learn much. Holding it about half a metre away, she lowered it a little since it seemed impossible for it to get cooked when it was so far away. Smoked meat maybe? But there was no smoke, how can it be... smoked?
This was too confusing for just a meal. She made a mental note to be more appreciative of cooks next time.
Leaning on the side of the table where the stove was, she let out a soft sigh, a little annoyed that it was taking so long to cook. She turned to Larsa, still holding the steak above the fire, watching him cut up the vegetables with full concentration.
She let her mind wander, not realizing that the fire had started eating up their dinner.
Larsa had been trying to carefully cut up the head of lettuce without losing a finger when the smell of smoke became overpowering. Startled, the boy turned to see that the oil in the marinade had caught fire...almost instantaneously. It was like a cockatrice had just become the victim of Firaga.
"Lady Ashe!" he cried out in a panic, moving out of reflex more than anything, as he did not want that fire to reach her hands. The knife clattered to the counter just as he darted over to practically tackle her away from the stove, one hand trying to shove away the skewers so that by the time the both of them were sprawled on the tiled floor, they were well out of harm's way.
...Supposedly.
Her mind had travelled far away by then, but the sudden cry of panic snapped her out of it. She had no time to react before she found herself tackled away from the stove. The skewers flew out of her hand and only then did she realize how the pieces of steak had caught fire. In her memory, it seemed to happen in slow motion; the skewers spinning through the air almost gracefully, the fire dancing on the steak, her slow fall towards the ground.
Then the burning steak hit the curtains.
Instantly, it ignited the whole window before falling to the vegetables that Larsa was so diligently cutting. Ashe stared dumbfounded at the disaster, the dull ache of her back throbbing in the corner of her mind. Many profanities gathered in her throat but she bit her tongue to keep herself from uttering any of them, so instead, "...oh dear."
The young Emperor could only look on in horror as the curtains caught fire, and then the offending steak fell into his... Oh, no, his salad. He had worked so hard on—
No. No. There were far more important matters at hand...like keeping their small living space from going up in flames.
Offering an apologetic glance to Ashe for knocking her over, the preteen scrambled up to dash over to the sink nearby, shoving a glass under the faucet to fill with water before tossing that onto the growing flame. Really, it was a noble effort, but it was no help. In fact, considering it was an oil fire, that only made it worse.
It was with a hiss that a piece of burning curtain fell onto his boot, and he was quick to stamp it out, even if that meant injuring his own toes. It wasn't often that the young Solidor panicked so openly, but at this point, he had no choice.
"I believe we need your magick to assist us!" he pleaded, his voice reaching a new octave as he watched the fire grow. Still, despite that, he remained in front of her in a meek attempt to protect her, though the urge to cower and hide was not completely absent. It was simply ignored.
She felt terrible, she really did. Ashe knew that Larsa, for some reason she couldn't quite comprehend, had put a lot of effort into that salad, and now it was quickly going up in flames. She was panicking, too, but unlike Larsa, she was reduced to quietly watching the horror unfold, not knowing what to do.
The sight of the young Emperor, Emperor, jumping on the burning curtain and shrieking for help would be comical had she not been so shocked at what was happening. Wait. The shrieking. She snapped back into her senses, quickly casting the first spell that came to mind, "Waterga!"
It was only as the surge of magick flowed through her hands that she realized her mistake. "L-Larsa, get away from there!" She would kill herself if the boy was hurt because of this.
If it had been bad before, it was quite possibly something that could now be labeled 'catastrophe'. He had begun to move back as Ashe ordered, but he was too slow, as the fire grew so quickly that it seemed like a tiny explosion. Enough to throw him back, anyhow, to stumble and fall flat on his back nearly halfway out of the kitchen area.
Having smacked his head hard enough to bring a concussion into question, Larsa could only lay there to dazedly stare up at the ceiling. All he could do was try to think up an excuse to tell Basch if he ever saw him again. 'The Queen of Dalmasca died cooking dinner' just didn't sound right, really. It wasn't a good excuse. There was no excuse. This was beyond absurd.
The curtain's fire... He had stamped it out. Stamped... Stifled. Getting some of his sense back then, Larsa still had trouble lifting his head, but he managed to choke out over the roar of the fire, "Stifle it! Use ice!"
Ashe took a sharp intake of breath as the spell took place, not as a surge of water but of fire instead. She covered her face in reflex, but was pushed back by the explosion, though not as far as Larsa had been thrown. Fallen on her back, she threw a glance backwards to see if Larsa was alright. He was lying quite still, she felt her stomach sinking out of dread, but she pushed it aside, reminding herself that she ought to put the fire out first.
This should have been a trivial matter at most, cooking. It was only for one meal, it wasn't supposed to cost them their lives. The Emperor of Archadia and the Queen of Dalmasca, incinerated by a household fire. She doubted that she would be able to laugh at this memory in the future. Ashe turned back to the fire, watching helplessly as it continued to consume the whole kitchen.
Then, miraculously, Larsa was conscious, choking over the fire. ...stifle. Ice? Of course, ice! Coughing a little at the smoke, she shrieked over the crackling of the fire, "Blizzaga!"
The spell sent a cool breeze around the room first before freezing everything in the kitchen, extinguishing all the fire. She breathed out a sigh of relief, but little did she know that the trouble had only just started. A shrill wailing suddenly started. Surprised, she quickly looked up at the source of the sound, finding her face met by a generous amount of water spouting off the ceiling. "What is...?" She couldn't even start to comprehend what is happening.
The chill in the air was a welcome change from the blistering heat and thick smoke. Out of reflex, he jerked his feet back a bit so that he didn't get frozen as well. There was still smoke in the air, but then that was quite suddenly drowned out.
Literally
Spluttering at being rained on while inside, the sudden spray of water was enough to snap him back into full consciousness. With a wince, Larsa rolled onto his hands before sitting up to look over to Ashe, relieved to find her well. ...Though now the both of them looked a little charred from the smoke...and being drenched did not help.
"What is this?!" he cried out over the high screech of some sort of alarm in the distance. He stood with a stagger, trying to locate where the shrill noise was coming from. Obviously it was causing the water to fall.
She could hardly hear him over the shrill alarm, but she could pick up some noises from outside their apartment too. It seemed like the whole apartment building was raining... on the inside, and they, no, she had caused all the trouble.
She was starting to shiver from the cold water, but maybe also from the dawning realization of the gravity of the disaster. They had probably activated some sort of fire alarm that caused the raining, in the whole building. In a whole building full of people who would not appreciate having all their possessions as well as themselves fully drenched.
She pushed the thought away for the moment, walking over to Larsa first. She placed a hand to him, "Cura." She would ask him if he was alright, but it seemed an unnecessary question. "Perhaps we should go outside," she yelled over the alarm, a hand over her face so that she would stop sputtering in the so-called rain.
The warmth that followed the spell drew out a sigh of relief from him, eyelashes fluttering a bit as the ache in his head and back ceased. The healing spell was a bit of a rush, and it brought back memories of their short travels together.
Somehow, facing off against a walking skeleton in the mines seemed nicer than this disaster. What in all of Ivalice had they done? Was this why Basch had never let him help when they had camped? Was this why he had to have servants? Was he really so incompetent.
No matter... What was done was done, and focusing on their mistakes would do no good at the present time. They just needed to get out of there and...try not to slip along the way.
After glancing her over to make sure the Cura spell had healed any of her minor injuries as well, he began to lead the way out of their apartment. Then he realized with a sinking feeling that elevators were not supposed to be used during emergencies. They would need to walk down nine flights of stairs.
What was that about not slipping?
His own selfish concerns were dashed when he reached the stairs to see other tenants hurrying down them in a panic, not knowing what had caused this disturbance. Larsa's head ducked a bit, shame tightening his features as he carefully walked down the steps. This was not over, and it would not end well.
While the situation had not turned any better, feeling the ache fade away from her body made it all seem better, a little, at least. Tight-lipped and heart pounding still from the adrenaline, she followed him out of the apartment. Taking care not to slip was hard when droplets of water kept falling into her eyes. She pushed her hair off her face, knowing exactly how ridiculous she must seem at the current moment.
Following Larsa to the stairs, it was hard not to notice the many people jostling about on their way downstairs. Something cold and heavy sunk in her. An apology would be in order, though she knew not how to explain the situation. It would be the most embarrassing day of her life.
While walking down the stairs surrounded by the crowd, Ashe thought hard about how she should apologize without casting away any self-respect she still kept for herself. In the back of her mind, she was glad that Larsa, the eloquent one, was in this also. He could word this better than she ever could.
Rating; PG [Really Bad Cooking].
Characters; Ashe [
Summary; There is a reason that royalty have servants. This is one of them.
Log;
Convenience Store, the sign said, but it sure wasn't very convenient at all. They had spent almost two hours walking through the aisles trying to find at least one thing that might be edible. All those metal-like objects could not possibly be food. It didn't help much that the meats and vegetables were placed at the very back of the store. She had to admit, the feeling of accomplishment at finally having bought food for herself almost made up for it. It should not take so much time or frustration next time.
Now standing in front of the two marinated pieces of steak and the strange contraption called 'stove,' her frustration rose again. The device had a manual, but it was written in a strange language. The pictures indicated turning some dials, but it still refused to ignite no matter how many times she tried. With an indignant huff at the disobedient object, she pushed the knob forcefully and turned it.
A crackling sound and the fire is lit! She felt like jumping up and down, but remembered Larsa. Instead, she smiled contentedly to herself as she pushed the long steel poles through the pieces of steak, humming a little happy tune.
Not only had the store been very inconvenient, but the woman at the register had been terribly rude. He didn't much like being referred to as 'boy', but had kept his mouth shut so long as she had refrained from insulting Ashe. What was more, he barely had enough money to purchase the food. What little he did have, he had accidentally earned when helping an elderly woman down the stairs.
Realizing that they would need to find a job the next day or risk having to hunt in the woods, the boy became a bit distracted while working on his supposedly simple project of making a salad. There was no cooking required; only cutting. He admitted to being somewhat talented with a blade, but this was a little different. It took intense concentration to make the 'cucumber' slices perfectly even. An uneven slice simply would not do.
The lettuce provided a startling problem. Was he supposed to cut it, or shred it? How big were the pieces supposed to be? What if it looked terrible?
Somewhat disheartened by this road block, Larsa stared at the head of lettuce while trying to figure out the best approach. He thought about asking Ashe, but doubted she would know any better. Then again, as he looked over his shoulder, he noticed that she seemed to be handling herself rather well with those steaks.
He did wonder what sort of meat they were made out of, though. The humming made his smile return as he watched, curious. Did she really know what she was doing?
Honestly, she did not know. She had asked for "a proper sort of meat, please," and the man over the counter had given her a strange look and made her buy these ones. It seemed edible enough, and the lady before her had purchased the same. It should be safe. Having neatly pushed the steel pole through exactly the middle of the pieces of steak, she held it above the stove, wondering just how far it should be from the fire.
She had watched Basch and Penelo handle food before, but they had always insisted she rest so she was never able to learn much. Holding it about half a metre away, she lowered it a little since it seemed impossible for it to get cooked when it was so far away. Smoked meat maybe? But there was no smoke, how can it be... smoked?
This was too confusing for just a meal. She made a mental note to be more appreciative of cooks next time.
Leaning on the side of the table where the stove was, she let out a soft sigh, a little annoyed that it was taking so long to cook. She turned to Larsa, still holding the steak above the fire, watching him cut up the vegetables with full concentration.
She let her mind wander, not realizing that the fire had started eating up their dinner.
Larsa had been trying to carefully cut up the head of lettuce without losing a finger when the smell of smoke became overpowering. Startled, the boy turned to see that the oil in the marinade had caught fire...almost instantaneously. It was like a cockatrice had just become the victim of Firaga.
"Lady Ashe!" he cried out in a panic, moving out of reflex more than anything, as he did not want that fire to reach her hands. The knife clattered to the counter just as he darted over to practically tackle her away from the stove, one hand trying to shove away the skewers so that by the time the both of them were sprawled on the tiled floor, they were well out of harm's way.
...Supposedly.
Her mind had travelled far away by then, but the sudden cry of panic snapped her out of it. She had no time to react before she found herself tackled away from the stove. The skewers flew out of her hand and only then did she realize how the pieces of steak had caught fire. In her memory, it seemed to happen in slow motion; the skewers spinning through the air almost gracefully, the fire dancing on the steak, her slow fall towards the ground.
Then the burning steak hit the curtains.
Instantly, it ignited the whole window before falling to the vegetables that Larsa was so diligently cutting. Ashe stared dumbfounded at the disaster, the dull ache of her back throbbing in the corner of her mind. Many profanities gathered in her throat but she bit her tongue to keep herself from uttering any of them, so instead, "...oh dear."
The young Emperor could only look on in horror as the curtains caught fire, and then the offending steak fell into his... Oh, no, his salad. He had worked so hard on—
No. No. There were far more important matters at hand...like keeping their small living space from going up in flames.
Offering an apologetic glance to Ashe for knocking her over, the preteen scrambled up to dash over to the sink nearby, shoving a glass under the faucet to fill with water before tossing that onto the growing flame. Really, it was a noble effort, but it was no help. In fact, considering it was an oil fire, that only made it worse.
It was with a hiss that a piece of burning curtain fell onto his boot, and he was quick to stamp it out, even if that meant injuring his own toes. It wasn't often that the young Solidor panicked so openly, but at this point, he had no choice.
"I believe we need your magick to assist us!" he pleaded, his voice reaching a new octave as he watched the fire grow. Still, despite that, he remained in front of her in a meek attempt to protect her, though the urge to cower and hide was not completely absent. It was simply ignored.
She felt terrible, she really did. Ashe knew that Larsa, for some reason she couldn't quite comprehend, had put a lot of effort into that salad, and now it was quickly going up in flames. She was panicking, too, but unlike Larsa, she was reduced to quietly watching the horror unfold, not knowing what to do.
The sight of the young Emperor, Emperor, jumping on the burning curtain and shrieking for help would be comical had she not been so shocked at what was happening. Wait. The shrieking. She snapped back into her senses, quickly casting the first spell that came to mind, "Waterga!"
It was only as the surge of magick flowed through her hands that she realized her mistake. "L-Larsa, get away from there!" She would kill herself if the boy was hurt because of this.
If it had been bad before, it was quite possibly something that could now be labeled 'catastrophe'. He had begun to move back as Ashe ordered, but he was too slow, as the fire grew so quickly that it seemed like a tiny explosion. Enough to throw him back, anyhow, to stumble and fall flat on his back nearly halfway out of the kitchen area.
Having smacked his head hard enough to bring a concussion into question, Larsa could only lay there to dazedly stare up at the ceiling. All he could do was try to think up an excuse to tell Basch if he ever saw him again. 'The Queen of Dalmasca died cooking dinner' just didn't sound right, really. It wasn't a good excuse. There was no excuse. This was beyond absurd.
The curtain's fire... He had stamped it out. Stamped... Stifled. Getting some of his sense back then, Larsa still had trouble lifting his head, but he managed to choke out over the roar of the fire, "Stifle it! Use ice!"
Ashe took a sharp intake of breath as the spell took place, not as a surge of water but of fire instead. She covered her face in reflex, but was pushed back by the explosion, though not as far as Larsa had been thrown. Fallen on her back, she threw a glance backwards to see if Larsa was alright. He was lying quite still, she felt her stomach sinking out of dread, but she pushed it aside, reminding herself that she ought to put the fire out first.
This should have been a trivial matter at most, cooking. It was only for one meal, it wasn't supposed to cost them their lives. The Emperor of Archadia and the Queen of Dalmasca, incinerated by a household fire. She doubted that she would be able to laugh at this memory in the future. Ashe turned back to the fire, watching helplessly as it continued to consume the whole kitchen.
Then, miraculously, Larsa was conscious, choking over the fire. ...stifle. Ice? Of course, ice! Coughing a little at the smoke, she shrieked over the crackling of the fire, "Blizzaga!"
The spell sent a cool breeze around the room first before freezing everything in the kitchen, extinguishing all the fire. She breathed out a sigh of relief, but little did she know that the trouble had only just started. A shrill wailing suddenly started. Surprised, she quickly looked up at the source of the sound, finding her face met by a generous amount of water spouting off the ceiling. "What is...?" She couldn't even start to comprehend what is happening.
The chill in the air was a welcome change from the blistering heat and thick smoke. Out of reflex, he jerked his feet back a bit so that he didn't get frozen as well. There was still smoke in the air, but then that was quite suddenly drowned out.
Literally
Spluttering at being rained on while inside, the sudden spray of water was enough to snap him back into full consciousness. With a wince, Larsa rolled onto his hands before sitting up to look over to Ashe, relieved to find her well. ...Though now the both of them looked a little charred from the smoke...and being drenched did not help.
"What is this?!" he cried out over the high screech of some sort of alarm in the distance. He stood with a stagger, trying to locate where the shrill noise was coming from. Obviously it was causing the water to fall.
She could hardly hear him over the shrill alarm, but she could pick up some noises from outside their apartment too. It seemed like the whole apartment building was raining... on the inside, and they, no, she had caused all the trouble.
She was starting to shiver from the cold water, but maybe also from the dawning realization of the gravity of the disaster. They had probably activated some sort of fire alarm that caused the raining, in the whole building. In a whole building full of people who would not appreciate having all their possessions as well as themselves fully drenched.
She pushed the thought away for the moment, walking over to Larsa first. She placed a hand to him, "Cura." She would ask him if he was alright, but it seemed an unnecessary question. "Perhaps we should go outside," she yelled over the alarm, a hand over her face so that she would stop sputtering in the so-called rain.
The warmth that followed the spell drew out a sigh of relief from him, eyelashes fluttering a bit as the ache in his head and back ceased. The healing spell was a bit of a rush, and it brought back memories of their short travels together.
Somehow, facing off against a walking skeleton in the mines seemed nicer than this disaster. What in all of Ivalice had they done? Was this why Basch had never let him help when they had camped? Was this why he had to have servants? Was he really so incompetent.
No matter... What was done was done, and focusing on their mistakes would do no good at the present time. They just needed to get out of there and...try not to slip along the way.
After glancing her over to make sure the Cura spell had healed any of her minor injuries as well, he began to lead the way out of their apartment. Then he realized with a sinking feeling that elevators were not supposed to be used during emergencies. They would need to walk down nine flights of stairs.
What was that about not slipping?
His own selfish concerns were dashed when he reached the stairs to see other tenants hurrying down them in a panic, not knowing what had caused this disturbance. Larsa's head ducked a bit, shame tightening his features as he carefully walked down the steps. This was not over, and it would not end well.
While the situation had not turned any better, feeling the ache fade away from her body made it all seem better, a little, at least. Tight-lipped and heart pounding still from the adrenaline, she followed him out of the apartment. Taking care not to slip was hard when droplets of water kept falling into her eyes. She pushed her hair off her face, knowing exactly how ridiculous she must seem at the current moment.
Following Larsa to the stairs, it was hard not to notice the many people jostling about on their way downstairs. Something cold and heavy sunk in her. An apology would be in order, though she knew not how to explain the situation. It would be the most embarrassing day of her life.
While walking down the stairs surrounded by the crowd, Ashe thought hard about how she should apologize without casting away any self-respect she still kept for herself. In the back of her mind, she was glad that Larsa, the eloquent one, was in this also. He could word this better than she ever could.
