(Untitled)
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. )
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. )
Her first instinct was to find the source and extinguish it, and she already began creating escape routes if the fire got too out of hand. How ready was the caravan for that sort of accident anyway? What about all the younger passengers who might get lost, or confused during the evacuation?
She barged into the kitchen and froze when she smelt burnt eggs. What a joke, it was just some idiot who didn't know how to cook. Urgh, it smelt awful, and the smoke in the room wasn't making it any easier for her to spot the culprit. She coughed into her hand as a waft of dark smoke trailed her way and she squinted through it, barely able to make out Nero's figure beside the frying pan.
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Point was, people could eat a lot, and a lot of the time, they didn't really plan ahead or pace themselves. Not like it was easy to walk up to the ogre and say, 'Hey, when do you think our next pit stop's going to be?' either. Something told Nero there might be some communications issues involved. Hell, it was hard enough talking to people most of the time ( ... )
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"It hardly looks like it."
She stalked over to the kitchen counter and turned off the burner, not wasting a second or a moment of hesitation as her arm reached over dangerously close to the edges of the flames. A little burn wouldn't bother her, she'd faced far worse things as well. Now, to clear the smoke and extinguish the fire was the next thing to do.
Lightning glared at Nero and raised an eyebrow, awaiting any further action on his part. She wasn't anyone's mom, and maybe she wanted to see just how "under control" he really had this situation.
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He fanned some air in with the big hand--just made more sense; not that he knew too much about the principles of physics, but what was practical he definitely got--then turned back from the window, watching the smoke clear. It was better in there already, even if it'd taken care of his appetite in all the wrong ways. And everyone else's appetite who could smell it, too.
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Until then, she'd pay it no attention unless he proved to be a threat.
She folded her arms as most of the smoke cleared out and peered over the frying pan at what remained of the eggs.
"...you were trying to cook this?"
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"What's it look like I was trying to do?" There was a chance the pan was ruined; while most people wouldn't be able to check, he didn't exactly have that problem. Rather than stand there, mimicking her pose--arms crossed; kinda hard to do that what with his particular build--he moved back to the stove, large fingers curling around the handle. One brow twitched, but if he felt the heat? He didn't show it.
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Her own eyebrow twitched when she saw him reaching for the handle and there wasn't a single question on her mind about whether or not it was hot or not. She knew it for fact, since she felt the heat radiating off the pan when she went to turn the oven off but his lack of surprise or pain made it evident that somehow, it wasn't something that was bothering him much.
She pushed open the nearest garbage can and gave him a pointed look, suggesting that he either throw the remains of that eggs out or she'd just go ahead and do it herself.
At least she now knew there were some people on the caravan who should never cook in the kitchen without good reason.
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"Yeah, well... I like to improvise." He offered a cocky grin, hoping the eggs were put out enough that they wouldn't light the garbage on fire.
Hey. It could happen.
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She shook her head and shut the garbage shut, right after checking to see that it wouldn't burn a hole right through the bottom of it. All things considered, it wasn't a rock Lightning was about to leave unturned.
"If you're hungry enough I'm sure there's something to eat that doesn't need to be...heated over a fire."
For everyone elses sake on board, she was at least hoping there was.
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So maybe that was a little bit sarcastic. But c'mon. If he'd wanted to make a mess, there were easier ways to do it. And he was still hungry--for something a little more filling than the stuff he usually got.
"Sometimes you're just looking for a little extra. A nice, home-cooked meal, for one."
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She looked over the pan in the meantime to see if it was still usable after the heat it just went through. It looked fine, just a bit singed on the edges and blackened at the center but with enough water, that could be easily resolved. She tossed it in the sink and turned to get herself something to drink.
"Though it must have been nice to have someone else cooking for you back home then."
Since there was no way that he was the one who was cooking himself home-cooked meals back in his own world.
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Instinctively, his hands balled into a fist, one of them so tight, the nails so sharp, that he punctured his own skin.
"Yeah. It was."
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She knew she was worried about Serah and the others, and the thought of being unable to bring Serah back from her crystallization was enough to make her feel completely wrecked inside.
Lightning tossed him the nearest towel for the wound on his hand and shook her head.
"Sorry."
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He caught the towel with his normal hand, looking down at the scales on the other.
"Feel like I've seen you around before. You gotta name?"
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She watched as he attended to the cut in his hand and let one hand rest comfortably on the side of her hip. Now that the momentary cooking fiasco was over, she took it upon herself to look at him properly. He seemed young, probably a couple years younger than herself and he looked like he had a lot of fight in him. Maybe it stemmed from the restlessness she felt from him or the way he carried himself, like he was a rumbling container of fight and aggression but she mentally told herself to keep an eye on him regardless.
It went without saying that the strange looking appendage on his hand wasn't just there for decoration, and while she wasn't the type to ask him outright about it, her own sorts of observations and conclusions would have to make due in the meantime.
"And you?"
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He could tell--from enough experience dealing with Dante--that they were sizing each other up right now; he wasn't the sort of guy who spent too much time thinking about what other people thought of him. He didn't exactly aim to please. But there were some people worth impressing, after all; it's just that he knew the kind of impression he gave off. Impressive, sure, but maybe not for all the right reasons. And definitely not right now ( ... )
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