Desperate drought (Eleven days and counting)

[chilichoc]

*Mel's in the only kitchen she knows of with marble countertops. She's got the sleeves of her striped shirt rolled up, her dirty hair's pulled into a haphazard ponytail, and her leather pants are sitting low on her hips

Comments

[firm_detective]

*L doesn't want to be away from his room for long, a day after his rearrival at the mansion. As it happens, though, the food situation there is dire; he's come to the kitchen in search of snacks for Misa and himself. He looks slightly more disheveled than usual.*

*When he steps into the kitchen, he stops short, with a slight frown.*

I can see that you are cooking, Mel, but -- what are you doing?

*Noticing the identical cookies, he gestures toward them and continues,*

Those look good.

[chilichoc]

I have to break it up to temper it.

*She gives a larger piece of chocolate an especially hard whack.*

That's what the cookbook said. Take as many cookies as you want.

[firm_detective]

It is exceptionally noisy.

*Ambling over, he plucks a cookie from the rack.*

What are you making?

*He bites into the cookie.*

[chilichoc]

It's satisfying. ...sort of.

*She frowns at the chocolate shards. It all seems pointless, suddenly.*

Mole sauce. I thought. I don't know.

[firm_detective]

*Around the crumbs, which slightly muffle his voice, he says,*

Do you have anything to put the sauce on?

*He looks around the kitchen: savory potato soup and oatmeal cookies. Neither looks like much of a candidate.*

What's satisfying about it?

[chilichoc]

Brute force is satisfying. Don't want to go in the war room. I'd break my streak of never missing a shot.

I... I'm not going to eat it.

[firm_detective]

Then what is the point? Are you planning on someone else eating it?

*He moves to the kitchen, opens the door, finds a carton of milk. Without turning his gaze back to her, he asks,*

I don't suppose you have napped since I got back.

*He acquires a mug for the milk, and begins to pour it.*

[chilichoc]

Making it's the point. It keeps me from thinking too hard.

A little?

*It is a question; she's honestly not sure.*

[firm_detective]

*The milk is poured; he puts it away, and takes another cookie.*

Thinking is a good thing, Mel. Maybe you should sleep more -- though these cookies are quite pleasant.

Why don't you just make a fudge sauce for ice cream? It seems like a better use of the chocolate.

[chilichoc]

It's not good when you think and think and can't get anywhere new.

Hm. Good idea. Sugar instead of chicken stock. But that means it's almost done. *She bites her lower lip, seeming to find this upsetting.*

At least the cookies are good.

[firm_detective]

It is possible to approach a topic from the wrong angle.

*His tone is very neutral.*

If it's almost done, and you wish to continue cooking, you could make something else -- a cake to pour the fudge over, perhaps.

[chilichoc]

I've tried so hard, L, but I can't- There's no answer.

*She's looking for confectioner's sugar.*

Um. A chocolate cake?

[firm_detective]

Then there is no answer now. The answer can exist, but be inaccessible at a given time, yes?

*Now that he is settling in again, he is able to make himself sound wise.*

Chocolate? If you like.

[chilichoc]

*She nods.*

But I want him back now.

*And then she sort of wilts, because she can hear herself getting whiny, and she hates herself for it.*

I am cooking anyway.

[firm_detective]

I am sorry to say that I don't think anyone with the power to do anything about it cares about what any of us want. Or --

*He sighs, letting the sentence trail off. I have come back -- isn't that what matters?*

There are a variety of cake recipes in these cookbooks. If chocolate is what you want, then make chocolate.

[chilichoc]

No, they don't care. But you can still make them do things.

Chocolate, then. To go with the sauce. *She's stirring the powdered sugar in, slowly.*