(no subject)
Characters: Nero (roulettespin and anybody who wants to help put out a small grease fire?
Setting/Location: Kitchens
Date & Time: Day 2, late afternoon.
Warnings: Nero makes food.
Summary: It doesn't go so good.
Nero was starting to get hungry. And not for snacks, either. There was something about snacking that just didn't fill you up or satisfy you the way an actual home-cooked meal did, and Nero was a growing boy; he was a growing boy who was used to home-cooked meals, at that. Grabbing snacks here and there, wandering into the kitchen and wandering out again with not too much more than a slice of bread or a cookie someone'd left lying around, just wasn't the same as sitting down to a plate full of food, hot food, that actually stuck around for more than an hour at a time, and didn't make you wake up in the middle of the night, hungry all over again.
For someone who was all about working on his own, Nero sure had relied on other people a whole lot, and for a whole lot more than he'd thought. But those people weren't here--he was worried about that for other reasons, other reasons he just wasn't thinking about right now--which meant there was only one thing he could do.
He was going to have to cook.
Eggs seemed like a good place to start. How hard could that be? He knew you had to get the pan hot and you had to put some butter in it, and there were eggs and butter and a pan in this kitchen. And you didn't include the shells. Obviously. It was just cooking. Who could fuck something like frying some eggs up, anyway? He had all the ingredients and he wasn't an idiot; he could do this with one hand tied behind his back.
Except that somewhere along the way, something had gone pretty wrong. He must've turned the flame up too high, or some butter had gotten into the burner--not to mention there was shell in the pan and one of the yolks had broken and he hated that--because there was a whole lot of smoke in the room and it was possible, just maybe, the eggs were on fire. Literally burning. Not just turning black.
Setting/Location: Kitchens
Date & Time: Day 2, late afternoon.
Warnings: Nero makes food.
Summary: It doesn't go so good.
Nero was starting to get hungry. And not for snacks, either. There was something about snacking that just didn't fill you up or satisfy you the way an actual home-cooked meal did, and Nero was a growing boy; he was a growing boy who was used to home-cooked meals, at that. Grabbing snacks here and there, wandering into the kitchen and wandering out again with not too much more than a slice of bread or a cookie someone'd left lying around, just wasn't the same as sitting down to a plate full of food, hot food, that actually stuck around for more than an hour at a time, and didn't make you wake up in the middle of the night, hungry all over again.
For someone who was all about working on his own, Nero sure had relied on other people a whole lot, and for a whole lot more than he'd thought. But those people weren't here--he was worried about that for other reasons, other reasons he just wasn't thinking about right now--which meant there was only one thing he could do.
He was going to have to cook.
Eggs seemed like a good place to start. How hard could that be? He knew you had to get the pan hot and you had to put some butter in it, and there were eggs and butter and a pan in this kitchen. And you didn't include the shells. Obviously. It was just cooking. Who could fuck something like frying some eggs up, anyway? He had all the ingredients and he wasn't an idiot; he could do this with one hand tied behind his back.
Except that somewhere along the way, something had gone pretty wrong. He must've turned the flame up too high, or some butter had gotten into the burner--not to mention there was shell in the pan and one of the yolks had broken and he hated that--because there was a whole lot of smoke in the room and it was possible, just maybe, the eggs were on fire. Literally burning. Not just turning black.