Log: Pied Pie Maker
Who: P'draig, Avey, D'kai
When: Afternoon, 1/5/18
Where: Kitchen, Ista Weyr
What: P'draig, looking to score some oven room for a pie, encounters Deke, looking to score some free food, and a bit later on, Avey.
Afternoon at Ista in the winter is often very pretty. It's not humid, it's not sticky and the sun's out. This means it's relatively pleasant in the kitchen too and Paddy's here, off-duty maybe, leaning against one of the counters wheedling a little oven time from one of the cooks. "C'mon, you know I won't take long and won't take up much space. It's just one little pie," he makes a squishing motion with his fingers. The woman eyes him askance for a moment then relents. "All right /fine/, but you'll help with the bread tomorrow, and you'll clean up after yourself right?" Paddy holds up his hands. "Don't I always?"
And D'kai's there, too, likely for an entirely different reason judging how he's giving those sweet bread rolls the eye, and sidling up next to them before he's quite soundly smacked on the hand and shooed out of the way by one roundish cooks. "You stay out of that, boy!" No matter how much he might round his eyes and pout his lips, he's not getting any of that bread, not until it's well and proper out on the tables, and so instead the bronze rider turns around at the ring of a familiar voice. "Oi! P'draig!" All sorrow at a rumbling stomach forgotten, the lad's weaving around a flour-powdered island and two bakers to draw up next to his former Weyrlingmaster, a wide, goofy grin spreading across his features. "How's things?"
"Well ... yes," the cook answers P'draig with a long-suffering sigh and P'draig gives her his sweetest charming smile. "All right, all right, just go on with you." And there's D'kai and P'draig's head lifts and he beams over at the young man. "Well hey there, Deke. Pretty good, pretty good, just managed to finagle a little corner of the oven for my latest experiment. Want to help out? You get to eat the results."
"Ah! You master finagler, you!" The lad pokes his head a bit nearer, as though perhaps seeking out the smell of a pie yet-unmade, and then just the corner of his tongue pokes out. Only one word seems to properly register with D'kai: "Eat? Of course! I'm your man!" But that's enough, and he's pushing at his short sleeves and dusting his hands off in preparation. "Wait - latest... experiment?" His nose wrinkles, ever so slightly, over towards P'draig. "Not the kind that smokes and bubbles ominously, I hope?"
"Heh, master finagler, I like that," P'draig jokes and grins over at D'kai. "And no, nothing ominous. Just different fruit combinations. And - ever made pie dough before?" he asks curiously, then points towards one end of the counter. "I've got my stuff there. Cut and peeled and combined the fruit earlier so we only have to make the dough, put it in a pan and bake it."
D'kai is nothing if not enthusiastic, especially when it comes to pie, although he's got a lift of his shoulders and a apologetic shake of his head at the question. "Never. I'm miserable when it comes to being in the kitchen, really, though I can make a mean piece of fish. Just ask Sunni. So you can be my teacher! Again. It can't be that hard, though?" Making a pie crust, of course.
"Fish - well good, maybe you can come down and help out at the Sandbar then. I've been playing around with some of the salt-fish that came out of that last big catch," Paddy explains and moves around to that counter corner. "Crust -- not that hard, just a few little things you kind of have to get a hang of. Mostly combining the flour and the fat. Here." And there's an apron lobbed at the bronzerider. "This should only take a half hour or so."
Enthusiastic, yes, graceful, no. The bronze rider scrambles for that apron as it glances off an arm, and he catches it between palms right before it's hit the floor. But D'kai tugs it on over his head, ties the tie with minimal trouble, and carefully tucks errant hair behind his ears. Then he's shuffled over to that unmade pie, and inspecting everything carefully, answering, "Yeah, of course! It'd be my pleasure. My ma always made the most fantastic fish, so if all else fails I can write her for a recipe. And I've half an hour to spare, not like I'm doing much else lately."
Avey arrives from the living cavern.
Avey has arrived.
There's only a loose grin from Paddy for the apron-scramble and then he's tying his own on and pulling containers forward. "Okay, flour first in this here bowl," he instructs and pushes the appropriate measuring container towards D'kai. "Gimme three of those." There's a sympathetic grin about the bronzerider's present occupation. "Yeah - I hear you. Jekzith caught Nalaieth here back a few turns. She wouldn't let him leave so -- yeah. ANy time you need company, just have Mikhuth give a holler."
Avey comes back into the kitchen -- she's been in and out, on various errands. This time, she's carrying a huge, heavy tray full of dirty dishes from the living cavern. It teeters and she stumbles the last few steps over to the counter where she sets it down with a loud rattling of plates and silverware.
Flour goes in the bowl. Flooomp. D'kai coughs a bit, waves a hand to clear some of that rising powder, but obediantly follows up with two more: three of those, check! "It's not so much about Lieryth not letting Mickey go anywhere, though if I'm ever lonely you'll hear from me." He bumps the bowl with his hands a bit, settling the flour in the middle of it. "It's Mickey not letting /me/ go anywhere. And he refuses to move an inch from the sands. You should hear him, though," and here the lad's got a half-smile, a dreamy sort of sigh, "He's just so pleased." That happy expression turns to curiosity, and he makes a helpful sort of motion for Avey's dishes before she's got them all settled on her own and he's offering her a lopsided grin. "Y'all good?"
Chopping up butter into bits from a large block of the stuff, P'draig slides the cubes over to D'kai. "Okay, usually I'd make you weigh this but I know how much this is, and if you have a block like this, it's an eighth of the block," he explains and then blinks. "Wow and I thought Jekzith was into his eggs. Nice to know he's the paternal type though. And yeah, I can come by, bring cards, drinks, whatever, Mic's really busy with the Weyrlings so I've got free time in the evenings when I'm not up at Telgar and after Palia's gone to bed." The rattling dishes draw a curious glance and Paddy's got a smile for the girl too. "Hey there."
"Sorry!" Avey yips. "I /almost/ dropped it. But nothing broke." She does a cursory check to make doubly sure: no broken dishes. Then she drifts over to their counters. "What are you working on?" she asks. "Do you need me to fetch you anything?"
The bronze rider scoops up all that butter, sprinkling it over the flour with a flourish and then D'kai's pausing, hands held high over the bowl, before setting in. Stir? Mix? Mash? It's some variation of them all, though before he gets too energetic he glances towards P'draig for approval. "Oh - yeah, that'd be excellent! I'm trying to, you know, spend some time away from Mickey, actually. Had a chat with Balinne about it." And his lips purse, fleetingly, though he says it all casually. "And I've all the free time in Pern! I'll take you up on that." Avey? She receives an even broader grin from the lad (if that were possible) and he's wagging his head, indicating P'draig. "You'll have to ask the master finagler over there. I'm just the musher and stirrer."
"Whoa there," is Paddy's answer to that look, resting a hand on D'kai's wrist and he passes over the proper tool: a pastry cutter. "Push and sweep kind of," he explains then waits to see how the bronzerider does. "Mm, you don't have to hover with him," P'draig affirms, "get around see Ista, get to know people." The brownrider grins over at Avey. "Just a little pie, stealing a corner of the ovens for it and we're good, got it all right here, but when it's baked up you're welcome to a piece if you tell me all about how it tastes to you."
"Oh," Avey says, looking pleased, "sure! I like pie. Thank you, brownrider. That's very nice of you." She looks curiously at D'kai, and his knot, and wrinkles her forehead in puzzlement when she can't work out who he is.
Shucks, and mashing was just getting fun, too. D'kai accepts the pastry cutter, though, with that grin redirected towards P'draig, and applies it to the floury butter concoction; push and sweep, push and sweep. "Hey, this is sorta fun. Rhythmic." And then he's nodding his agreement for those further words. "Yeah. And the weather. Enjoy the weather, and the babes." Wink. Which encompasses Avey, too, cheekily, and then the man's extending a floury, buttery hand towards the girl. "D'kai, Mikhuth's. That's the bronze skulking around on the sands. Fort's duties!"
Avey's mouth forms a round O and she looks - intimidated. Hesitantly, she extends her hand anyway. "I'm Avey," she says, slumping her shoulders and making herself small. "I'm, uh. Sorry to bother you, sir."
"There you go, yep, it can be relaxing almost," P'draig says about the dough mixing. "So here's one of those tricky bits I was telling you about. You want the dough to start to form up into pieces about the size of a pea, so keep checking to see how well the flour and butter are coming together. Add more butter if you need it," he notes. That sideline makes Paddy smirk. "Oh, definitely. There's some real plusses to Ista and both of those are high up on the list," he replies and waits for D'kai to complete his introduction. P'draig, Jekzith's, formerly of Fort, which is how I know the whippersnapper here," he teases Deke. "Stir!'
D'kai's quick to reassure that slump-shouldered Avey, to wave his hand with some vaguely, dubiously comforting motion, sprinkling the counter with dough. "Don't apologize, not at all! C'mon, you're getting free pie out of it. Don't look so scared about it." And then he's all focussed on the task at hand, squinting a bit down into the bowl and leaning into the motion of crumbling and cutting up the butter until, indeed, it begins to form those soft little pieces. "Oh, look! There it goes." He's entirely too pleased about it, though that doesn't stop him from sticking his tongue right out at Paddy. "Whippersnapper?! Please, old man!"
The reassurance only eases Avey's attack of shyness by a little bit, though she does grin at the two men's teasing of one another. "Okay," she says quietly, and then just watches the pie-making process in silence.
Avey's reaction earns a like response from P'draig, "Seriously, no need to be afraid of D'kai," he teases merrily and eyes the bowl. "Yep, there you go, just like that, mix a little more and then time for water," the brownrider instructs and gives D'kai a wide-eyed innocent look. "I wonder if that makes my parents ancient," he muses thoughtfully then laughs and pushes the container of water Deke's way, draws a covered bowl closer. "So today I mixed up some of those little red fruits and the purple ones that are on the trees here in winter, and some of the citrus. So I'm curious to see how well the blend /cooked/ rather than raw."
Deke tosses his head in his agreement, baring teeth towards Avey in a way which may not go so well towards assuaging her fears. "I don't bite, really! Though," and here the gangling bronze rider taps a toe sharply against the flagstone, looking the much shorter girl up and down, "You may want to watch your feet. Mine tend to stray and I take no responsibility for them." Is he serious? Maybe. Probably not, although any further hint he might've given vanishes under the twist of his neck as he turns to begin a slow, trickling stream of water into the bowl. "All of it?" This to P'draig, awaiting some signal which will stay the lad's hand. And then he's licking his lips towards that bowl of berries. "Mmm. Those purple ones are /fantastic/."
"You don't get to /be/ a parent unless you're ancient," Avey opines, and then remembers that she's being shy and shuts her mouth again. And looks down at her feet, and takes a few steps away, just in case. She spares a glance toward the main part of the kitchen, where there's a great deal of activity going on - and where she should probably be working - but makes no move to go there; hanging around bronze and brown-riders is as good a way as any to slack off chores.
"Little bit by little bit," P'draig tells the bronzerider, "mixing in between trickles." He sends a humorous look Avey's way. "Guess /I'm/ ancient then, because I've got two kids." He winks at the girl, then, looking nary a day over thirty and steals a berry out of the bowl, munches on it. "Keep adding and stirring and we can get the crust rolled out, and the fruit into the pie."
The bronze rider's siding with Avey, on this one - sorry Paddy! - and he nods his agreement for it. "/Ancient/." It's repeated for emphasis between a stirring break, and then more water, and more stirring, and more water... and then all the water's gone! "Hey," after replacing the now-empty container back on the counter, D'kai eyes Avey, playfully suspicious. "We're not keeping you from anything important, are we? Like, say, chores?" And, looking not the least bit repentant his suggestion that P'draig might creak and topple right over at any time, the lad snags a berry, too, popping it in his mouth with a happy-food noise. "Added and stirred to perfection, sir! Do I get to dump it out on the counter and play with it, now?"
Avey considers P'draig thoughtfully. "You only look /sort of/ old," she assures him. "But, by the time your kids are my age..." she shrugs. There's no hope for it! Ancientness is on the horizon. She casts a guilty glance at D'kai, and sidesteps the question by saying, "They asked me to clear off all the dirty dishes out of the living cavern, but I did."
P'draig reaches across D'kai to poke at the crust. "Needs a little more water and then we're good," and he picks up the container to go fetch more. "/Then/ you can dump it out on the counter and play with it /a little/," one finger raised and his gaze shifts back over to Avey, grinning. "Palia's almost four and Jaivery's a turn and a half," and then he's stepping away to get a little more water, brings it back to D'kai. "Slow trickle, you want it to be all together, but not sticky."
That evasion doesn't go entirely over D'kai's head, but instead of a chatisement, he simply aims another wink Avey's way. "So it's all well and good, then. We'll say we needed you to - be moral support, or something." Pie moral support! "A /little/. That's better than nothing. Hey, yeah, how's Palia doing?" The mention brings a brightening on Deke's part as he accepts the water and lightly tips it over the bowl of dough. "I haven't seen her in - ages." Stir, stir. "Together, but not sticky. Got it."
Avey beams. "Thanks!" she says happily, and leans against the wall. "And if you need me to run anywhere... I can do that. I'd way rather run messages than do kitchen stuff, but they said I had to do the same chores as all the other candidates." She looks at P'draig, and asks him, "Do they have the same mom?"
"She's doing well, had a few bumpy moments when we first got here, now it's almost like we've been here all along," P'draig states of his daughter and checks the dough agian. "Okay good. Now sprinkle flour lightly on the counter and form up that dough into a ball. Break it in half and put one half down on the counter and this is fun too," the brownrider grabs a rolling pin. "Roll it out with this. Just don't bean me with it." He looks over at Avey, shakes his head. "Nope, no running for pie. Just eating it when it's done. And no, my kids have two different mothers, both from flights."
"All the other candidates?" Mixing motions pause, and Deke leans back as though to inspect Avey's shoulder for a knot, though soon enough he's poking at the dough and dipping a hand into the flour jar to shower the counter with it. "Are you one, too, or does the headwoman just clump you in with the lot of them? That's good to hear, I'll have to catch up with the both of you sometime," presumably, this last is spoken to Paddy, though all hunched up over the mixing bowl while he pats at the dough, it's hard to tell. "Bean you with...?" Ah. Rolling pin! But once the lad's plopped the ball of dough on the counter, he offers the heavy wooden roller to Avey, instead. "I've done fun parts, already. Feel like rolling?"
Avey nods to P'draig, acknowledging his answer. "No, I'm one," she says to D'kai, "but I'm not from anywhere else, I mean, I was born here. Sure, I can roll. Probably. I always mix things wrong if I try to cook, but you can't mess up rolling, can you?" She takes the roller and starts to squish the dough with it.
Or maybe you can. P'draig, reaches into the flour container and sprinkles a little over the dough, shifts over meaning to set a hand apiece over Avey's arms crossing hers. "Like this," he tells her, apparently intent on guiding the motion so it's less 'squishing' and more 'rolling'. "Sure, she's getting out of the nursery for dinner," Paddy tells Deke. "Bet she'd be thrilled to see you."
D'kai, appearing somewhat startled that he shouldn't know a candidate for his own dragon's clutch, grins a touch sheepishly. "Well, congratulations for /that/." He steps back to allow room for P'draig to amend and correct the rolling motion. "Don't worry," the lad stage-whispers, "I only handed it off to you 'cause I'd probably break it, or something." Then he's propping one elbow on the counter, nodding towards the brown rider, a pleased expression flicking across his features. "You think? Yeah, I'd like that."
"I know," Avey says impatiently to P'draig. "You have to squish it /before/ you roll it." At least, you do if you're Avey. Anyhow, now that the dough is someone flatter, she starts rolling. She doesn't contribute anything to the other part of the conversation, about children and dinner, but by the puzzled look on her face, she seems to think it odd.
"Okay, okay," P'draig says laughingly and backs off a step, hands on hips leaving floury prints on his shorts. There's a bob of his head for D'kai though. "Great. We can go out to meet her later if you want. She likes to run around the Bowl before and after supper pretending to be a hatchling."
There's a chuckle for Paddy's description, and D'kai grins. "Hasn't changed, much, then. Last I saw her, she played at Impression and you said she always picked Jekzith." That laugh draws out for the memory, and then he's lowering his chin to rest on his balled fist, watching Avey's industrious rolling with an approving nod of someone who's no idea what's the right or wrong motion, anyway. "Lookin' good, Avey. That's some fine pie crust we've made."
"How thin do you..." Avey starts to ask, only to wince when she hears someone calling for her from the storage caverns. "Oops. I better go. Sorry! Uh, thanks for letting me help," she says, and hurries off to answer the summons.
Avey heads toward the storage caverns.
Avey has left.
"She's a little more varied in her choices now," P'draig tells D'kai, grinning. "Sometimes she wants blue or green even gold." He gives Avey a little wave as she scoots off, takes the pin and finishes rolling out that half of dough. "Grab the pie dish?" he nods to a heavy ceramic dish off to the side.
Straightening as Avey dashes off, Deke lifts one hand as she absconds and brushes the other against his apron. Eyebrows lift, and he tips his head towards P'draig: "Ooh, does she now? Does she want to be a dragonrider, just like her daddy?" He fetches the dish, as requested, and slips it across the table to the former Weyrlingmaster. "I bet she's just a joy to be around." Then there's a moment of thought, and he asks, "Is she living with - you and T'mic?"
"She's three going on four. One day she wants to be a rider like her parents, the next she wants to be a fancy dancer at the Hall, the next she's convinced some Lord Holder's son is going to come sweep her off her feet when she's 'all growed up' and make her a Lady." P'draig's shoulders roll a little, grin widening. "You know, like kids her age do." The pin is set aside, the brownrider folding the crust in half to lift it carefully onto the dish and cover the bottom with nimble fingers. "Yeah, she is. She's just ... she's my sunshine," Paddy says fondly of his daughter and looks up, shakes his head. "Yes and no. She sleeps up in the weyr part-time, I keep most of her stuff up there and we have family time all together, but she's part-time down in the nursery some nights too. Balanced, you know?"
There's another chuckle for that, and an understanding tilt of D'kai's head - quickly turned into a rueful grin and a shake. "And a handful, too, then, I bet." And though he's lounging against the counter, he's watching P'draig's movement, too - crust goes in the pan, okay - because you never know when you need to bake a pie, right? That one word, balanced, yeah, the bronze rider repeats it and nods slowly. "Of course. And you and Mic need your own time, too." But further than that, he doesn't go, instead switching, non-sequitur to: "How long will you bake it for?"
"A little, but not too bad," P'draig affirms. "She's still -- you know," and he mimics one of Palia's long solemn looks, "like this a lot. But she does play and laugh and run too." With the crust placed, P'draig gestures to the fruit bowl. "Pour that right in while I roll out the top crust." And he suits actions to words. "Mm. Exactly and Mic's -- well he's okay playing with kids to make them laugh, but the tough stuff kind of makes him curl up in a little ball and hide." There's a moment's pause before he goes on. "And I need time to slip back to Fort to see Paige a couple of nights a week too." He brushes some flour on the counter aside, nods down at the waiting crust-and-dish, "about a half hour, maybe a little longer."
"Serious?" Deke offers for that face, another amused sort of sound escaping him before he's reaching for the bowl of fruit - catching just one more of the purple ones to toss into his mouth before he's carefully shaking the berries into the pie pan. "At least," and then he's wiping a drip off on his nice white apron, staining it and then motioning wildly, arms waving in the arm, "Like this all the time! Would probably prefer serious to excitable. Plus, it means she's a thinker!" As though P'draig should need some sort of reassurance regarding his solemn daughter. And then D'kai's nodding again, making appropriately understanding noises, though he can't suppress another grin at the mention of his clutchmate. "It sounds like you've got everything worked out, Paddy, and I'll admit I'm kind of jealous. You know. Settled down, with family, and not one but /two/ weyrmates." That smile widens to show it's a cheery kind of jealous, and then the last berry's rolled into the pie crust and he's nodding. "Good. 'Cause even not cooked it's smelling fantastic."
"Heh, yeah, Jaivery's the one who's -- well he's a boy, you know. Very much a /boy/. More active." P'draig catches a falling berry and pops it into his mouth, folds crust to move over on top. "Okay, so this can be a fun part too, pinching the crust together and he demonstrates. "Give it a whirl?" Gray-blue eyes lift to D'kai at mention of jealousy. "Don't be in a hurry to settle, Deke. You're young, have a little fun first," is Paddy's quiet advice. "Getting settled isn't everything." There's a little pause and a sheepish smile. "But yes, I'm happy and well -- I'm glad to be and very grateful too. There's been plenty of tough times along the way." His hands clap together then and he beams. "And that pie is about ready to go in!"
"Awh," And it's a noise made for a lack of anything else to say, and D'kai applies himself instead to pinching his long fingers against the pie crust, and he's meticulous to ensure each is a set distance apart form the other so the end result is neat... ish. "You know. I think most of it - right now, at least - is Mickey. With all those warm, fuzzy egg feelings, and things. And I've always been used to having - family around." So he shrugs, finishes closing up the pie with a dramatic motion of his hand and then giving the pie plate a little twirl so it spins in place, and then he's lifting his gaze to meet Paddy's with a grin in response to that sheepish smile. "It's all good. And I certainly know how to have fun. And eat pie!" Which is fun. "That's it? That was /easy/." He seems almost surprised.
"Yeah? All of that rosy, happy, Papa glow rubbing off on you eh?" P'draig laughs as the pie twirls and he reaches out when it stops to pick it up, head to the ovens. "Yeah, that's it. It's not that hard to actually put it together, it's the little things like getting the butter and flour proportions right, not putting in too much water and getting the fruit sweetened and spiced right that can trip you up." He flips he oven open, slides the pie in and nudges it to the side, closes the oven and dodges out of the way as a hectic-paced kitchen worker speeds by with a casserole to put in. "And then don't forget it in the oven," he points out.
Laughter. "You bet. It could be worse; he could hate being on the sands and begrudge the eggs for wasting his time. Or something. And then have /that/ rub off on me." But Mikhuth's not, so D'kai doesn't waste another moment of thought on it, and then he's shaking his head towards the brown rider and offering a twitch of his lips as a smile. "So I got the cheater's shortcut to pie-making, thanks to you? That's all right, I think I can deal with that." He's only saying that because he gets to taste the end result, of course, but that's all right, too, and the lad taps a finger against his temple. "Right. Don't forget the pie. So now there's nothing left to do but wait and drool and anticipate? 'Cause I could do with a cup of something cool."
"Oh not cheating, but a little bit of a short-cut yeah, baby steps you know, to learning anything," P'draig replies, smile warm for the bronzerider. "And - yes. Beer?" Paddy offers, eyes twinkling. "They'll be warm but I have a pair of bottles in Jekzith's bags. They were for later, but no problem dipping into my supply up in the weyr."
"Cool, warm," there's a light lift of D'kai's shoulders, and the sidelong look he offers P'draig is decidedly roguish, "I suppose when it comes to beer it doesn't matter much!" And then, with one last, long, hopeful sniff of the air, he's motioning for the door: lead on, my good man!
That look earns a bright laugh and a devlish wink. "Not with this beer it doesn't, smooth, rich, best stuff, I tell you, man," and Paddy tidies up a little first, leaves his apron behind, then leads the way outward, cracking a joke on the way. It doesn't take long to get the beers, crack them open and share a few sips outside in the sun, then it's back into the kitchen to enjoy the pie and trade more stories before going in search of Palia.
When: Afternoon, 1/5/18
Where: Kitchen, Ista Weyr
What: P'draig, looking to score some oven room for a pie, encounters Deke, looking to score some free food, and a bit later on, Avey.
Afternoon at Ista in the winter is often very pretty. It's not humid, it's not sticky and the sun's out. This means it's relatively pleasant in the kitchen too and Paddy's here, off-duty maybe, leaning against one of the counters wheedling a little oven time from one of the cooks. "C'mon, you know I won't take long and won't take up much space. It's just one little pie," he makes a squishing motion with his fingers. The woman eyes him askance for a moment then relents. "All right /fine/, but you'll help with the bread tomorrow, and you'll clean up after yourself right?" Paddy holds up his hands. "Don't I always?"
And D'kai's there, too, likely for an entirely different reason judging how he's giving those sweet bread rolls the eye, and sidling up next to them before he's quite soundly smacked on the hand and shooed out of the way by one roundish cooks. "You stay out of that, boy!" No matter how much he might round his eyes and pout his lips, he's not getting any of that bread, not until it's well and proper out on the tables, and so instead the bronze rider turns around at the ring of a familiar voice. "Oi! P'draig!" All sorrow at a rumbling stomach forgotten, the lad's weaving around a flour-powdered island and two bakers to draw up next to his former Weyrlingmaster, a wide, goofy grin spreading across his features. "How's things?"
"Well ... yes," the cook answers P'draig with a long-suffering sigh and P'draig gives her his sweetest charming smile. "All right, all right, just go on with you." And there's D'kai and P'draig's head lifts and he beams over at the young man. "Well hey there, Deke. Pretty good, pretty good, just managed to finagle a little corner of the oven for my latest experiment. Want to help out? You get to eat the results."
"Ah! You master finagler, you!" The lad pokes his head a bit nearer, as though perhaps seeking out the smell of a pie yet-unmade, and then just the corner of his tongue pokes out. Only one word seems to properly register with D'kai: "Eat? Of course! I'm your man!" But that's enough, and he's pushing at his short sleeves and dusting his hands off in preparation. "Wait - latest... experiment?" His nose wrinkles, ever so slightly, over towards P'draig. "Not the kind that smokes and bubbles ominously, I hope?"
"Heh, master finagler, I like that," P'draig jokes and grins over at D'kai. "And no, nothing ominous. Just different fruit combinations. And - ever made pie dough before?" he asks curiously, then points towards one end of the counter. "I've got my stuff there. Cut and peeled and combined the fruit earlier so we only have to make the dough, put it in a pan and bake it."
D'kai is nothing if not enthusiastic, especially when it comes to pie, although he's got a lift of his shoulders and a apologetic shake of his head at the question. "Never. I'm miserable when it comes to being in the kitchen, really, though I can make a mean piece of fish. Just ask Sunni. So you can be my teacher! Again. It can't be that hard, though?" Making a pie crust, of course.
"Fish - well good, maybe you can come down and help out at the Sandbar then. I've been playing around with some of the salt-fish that came out of that last big catch," Paddy explains and moves around to that counter corner. "Crust -- not that hard, just a few little things you kind of have to get a hang of. Mostly combining the flour and the fat. Here." And there's an apron lobbed at the bronzerider. "This should only take a half hour or so."
Enthusiastic, yes, graceful, no. The bronze rider scrambles for that apron as it glances off an arm, and he catches it between palms right before it's hit the floor. But D'kai tugs it on over his head, ties the tie with minimal trouble, and carefully tucks errant hair behind his ears. Then he's shuffled over to that unmade pie, and inspecting everything carefully, answering, "Yeah, of course! It'd be my pleasure. My ma always made the most fantastic fish, so if all else fails I can write her for a recipe. And I've half an hour to spare, not like I'm doing much else lately."
Avey arrives from the living cavern.
Avey has arrived.
There's only a loose grin from Paddy for the apron-scramble and then he's tying his own on and pulling containers forward. "Okay, flour first in this here bowl," he instructs and pushes the appropriate measuring container towards D'kai. "Gimme three of those." There's a sympathetic grin about the bronzerider's present occupation. "Yeah - I hear you. Jekzith caught Nalaieth here back a few turns. She wouldn't let him leave so -- yeah. ANy time you need company, just have Mikhuth give a holler."
Avey comes back into the kitchen -- she's been in and out, on various errands. This time, she's carrying a huge, heavy tray full of dirty dishes from the living cavern. It teeters and she stumbles the last few steps over to the counter where she sets it down with a loud rattling of plates and silverware.
Flour goes in the bowl. Flooomp. D'kai coughs a bit, waves a hand to clear some of that rising powder, but obediantly follows up with two more: three of those, check! "It's not so much about Lieryth not letting Mickey go anywhere, though if I'm ever lonely you'll hear from me." He bumps the bowl with his hands a bit, settling the flour in the middle of it. "It's Mickey not letting /me/ go anywhere. And he refuses to move an inch from the sands. You should hear him, though," and here the lad's got a half-smile, a dreamy sort of sigh, "He's just so pleased." That happy expression turns to curiosity, and he makes a helpful sort of motion for Avey's dishes before she's got them all settled on her own and he's offering her a lopsided grin. "Y'all good?"
Chopping up butter into bits from a large block of the stuff, P'draig slides the cubes over to D'kai. "Okay, usually I'd make you weigh this but I know how much this is, and if you have a block like this, it's an eighth of the block," he explains and then blinks. "Wow and I thought Jekzith was into his eggs. Nice to know he's the paternal type though. And yeah, I can come by, bring cards, drinks, whatever, Mic's really busy with the Weyrlings so I've got free time in the evenings when I'm not up at Telgar and after Palia's gone to bed." The rattling dishes draw a curious glance and Paddy's got a smile for the girl too. "Hey there."
"Sorry!" Avey yips. "I /almost/ dropped it. But nothing broke." She does a cursory check to make doubly sure: no broken dishes. Then she drifts over to their counters. "What are you working on?" she asks. "Do you need me to fetch you anything?"
The bronze rider scoops up all that butter, sprinkling it over the flour with a flourish and then D'kai's pausing, hands held high over the bowl, before setting in. Stir? Mix? Mash? It's some variation of them all, though before he gets too energetic he glances towards P'draig for approval. "Oh - yeah, that'd be excellent! I'm trying to, you know, spend some time away from Mickey, actually. Had a chat with Balinne about it." And his lips purse, fleetingly, though he says it all casually. "And I've all the free time in Pern! I'll take you up on that." Avey? She receives an even broader grin from the lad (if that were possible) and he's wagging his head, indicating P'draig. "You'll have to ask the master finagler over there. I'm just the musher and stirrer."
"Whoa there," is Paddy's answer to that look, resting a hand on D'kai's wrist and he passes over the proper tool: a pastry cutter. "Push and sweep kind of," he explains then waits to see how the bronzerider does. "Mm, you don't have to hover with him," P'draig affirms, "get around see Ista, get to know people." The brownrider grins over at Avey. "Just a little pie, stealing a corner of the ovens for it and we're good, got it all right here, but when it's baked up you're welcome to a piece if you tell me all about how it tastes to you."
"Oh," Avey says, looking pleased, "sure! I like pie. Thank you, brownrider. That's very nice of you." She looks curiously at D'kai, and his knot, and wrinkles her forehead in puzzlement when she can't work out who he is.
Shucks, and mashing was just getting fun, too. D'kai accepts the pastry cutter, though, with that grin redirected towards P'draig, and applies it to the floury butter concoction; push and sweep, push and sweep. "Hey, this is sorta fun. Rhythmic." And then he's nodding his agreement for those further words. "Yeah. And the weather. Enjoy the weather, and the babes." Wink. Which encompasses Avey, too, cheekily, and then the man's extending a floury, buttery hand towards the girl. "D'kai, Mikhuth's. That's the bronze skulking around on the sands. Fort's duties!"
Avey's mouth forms a round O and she looks - intimidated. Hesitantly, she extends her hand anyway. "I'm Avey," she says, slumping her shoulders and making herself small. "I'm, uh. Sorry to bother you, sir."
"There you go, yep, it can be relaxing almost," P'draig says about the dough mixing. "So here's one of those tricky bits I was telling you about. You want the dough to start to form up into pieces about the size of a pea, so keep checking to see how well the flour and butter are coming together. Add more butter if you need it," he notes. That sideline makes Paddy smirk. "Oh, definitely. There's some real plusses to Ista and both of those are high up on the list," he replies and waits for D'kai to complete his introduction. P'draig, Jekzith's, formerly of Fort, which is how I know the whippersnapper here," he teases Deke. "Stir!'
D'kai's quick to reassure that slump-shouldered Avey, to wave his hand with some vaguely, dubiously comforting motion, sprinkling the counter with dough. "Don't apologize, not at all! C'mon, you're getting free pie out of it. Don't look so scared about it." And then he's all focussed on the task at hand, squinting a bit down into the bowl and leaning into the motion of crumbling and cutting up the butter until, indeed, it begins to form those soft little pieces. "Oh, look! There it goes." He's entirely too pleased about it, though that doesn't stop him from sticking his tongue right out at Paddy. "Whippersnapper?! Please, old man!"
The reassurance only eases Avey's attack of shyness by a little bit, though she does grin at the two men's teasing of one another. "Okay," she says quietly, and then just watches the pie-making process in silence.
Avey's reaction earns a like response from P'draig, "Seriously, no need to be afraid of D'kai," he teases merrily and eyes the bowl. "Yep, there you go, just like that, mix a little more and then time for water," the brownrider instructs and gives D'kai a wide-eyed innocent look. "I wonder if that makes my parents ancient," he muses thoughtfully then laughs and pushes the container of water Deke's way, draws a covered bowl closer. "So today I mixed up some of those little red fruits and the purple ones that are on the trees here in winter, and some of the citrus. So I'm curious to see how well the blend /cooked/ rather than raw."
Deke tosses his head in his agreement, baring teeth towards Avey in a way which may not go so well towards assuaging her fears. "I don't bite, really! Though," and here the gangling bronze rider taps a toe sharply against the flagstone, looking the much shorter girl up and down, "You may want to watch your feet. Mine tend to stray and I take no responsibility for them." Is he serious? Maybe. Probably not, although any further hint he might've given vanishes under the twist of his neck as he turns to begin a slow, trickling stream of water into the bowl. "All of it?" This to P'draig, awaiting some signal which will stay the lad's hand. And then he's licking his lips towards that bowl of berries. "Mmm. Those purple ones are /fantastic/."
"You don't get to /be/ a parent unless you're ancient," Avey opines, and then remembers that she's being shy and shuts her mouth again. And looks down at her feet, and takes a few steps away, just in case. She spares a glance toward the main part of the kitchen, where there's a great deal of activity going on - and where she should probably be working - but makes no move to go there; hanging around bronze and brown-riders is as good a way as any to slack off chores.
"Little bit by little bit," P'draig tells the bronzerider, "mixing in between trickles." He sends a humorous look Avey's way. "Guess /I'm/ ancient then, because I've got two kids." He winks at the girl, then, looking nary a day over thirty and steals a berry out of the bowl, munches on it. "Keep adding and stirring and we can get the crust rolled out, and the fruit into the pie."
The bronze rider's siding with Avey, on this one - sorry Paddy! - and he nods his agreement for it. "/Ancient/." It's repeated for emphasis between a stirring break, and then more water, and more stirring, and more water... and then all the water's gone! "Hey," after replacing the now-empty container back on the counter, D'kai eyes Avey, playfully suspicious. "We're not keeping you from anything important, are we? Like, say, chores?" And, looking not the least bit repentant his suggestion that P'draig might creak and topple right over at any time, the lad snags a berry, too, popping it in his mouth with a happy-food noise. "Added and stirred to perfection, sir! Do I get to dump it out on the counter and play with it, now?"
Avey considers P'draig thoughtfully. "You only look /sort of/ old," she assures him. "But, by the time your kids are my age..." she shrugs. There's no hope for it! Ancientness is on the horizon. She casts a guilty glance at D'kai, and sidesteps the question by saying, "They asked me to clear off all the dirty dishes out of the living cavern, but I did."
P'draig reaches across D'kai to poke at the crust. "Needs a little more water and then we're good," and he picks up the container to go fetch more. "/Then/ you can dump it out on the counter and play with it /a little/," one finger raised and his gaze shifts back over to Avey, grinning. "Palia's almost four and Jaivery's a turn and a half," and then he's stepping away to get a little more water, brings it back to D'kai. "Slow trickle, you want it to be all together, but not sticky."
That evasion doesn't go entirely over D'kai's head, but instead of a chatisement, he simply aims another wink Avey's way. "So it's all well and good, then. We'll say we needed you to - be moral support, or something." Pie moral support! "A /little/. That's better than nothing. Hey, yeah, how's Palia doing?" The mention brings a brightening on Deke's part as he accepts the water and lightly tips it over the bowl of dough. "I haven't seen her in - ages." Stir, stir. "Together, but not sticky. Got it."
Avey beams. "Thanks!" she says happily, and leans against the wall. "And if you need me to run anywhere... I can do that. I'd way rather run messages than do kitchen stuff, but they said I had to do the same chores as all the other candidates." She looks at P'draig, and asks him, "Do they have the same mom?"
"She's doing well, had a few bumpy moments when we first got here, now it's almost like we've been here all along," P'draig states of his daughter and checks the dough agian. "Okay good. Now sprinkle flour lightly on the counter and form up that dough into a ball. Break it in half and put one half down on the counter and this is fun too," the brownrider grabs a rolling pin. "Roll it out with this. Just don't bean me with it." He looks over at Avey, shakes his head. "Nope, no running for pie. Just eating it when it's done. And no, my kids have two different mothers, both from flights."
"All the other candidates?" Mixing motions pause, and Deke leans back as though to inspect Avey's shoulder for a knot, though soon enough he's poking at the dough and dipping a hand into the flour jar to shower the counter with it. "Are you one, too, or does the headwoman just clump you in with the lot of them? That's good to hear, I'll have to catch up with the both of you sometime," presumably, this last is spoken to Paddy, though all hunched up over the mixing bowl while he pats at the dough, it's hard to tell. "Bean you with...?" Ah. Rolling pin! But once the lad's plopped the ball of dough on the counter, he offers the heavy wooden roller to Avey, instead. "I've done fun parts, already. Feel like rolling?"
Avey nods to P'draig, acknowledging his answer. "No, I'm one," she says to D'kai, "but I'm not from anywhere else, I mean, I was born here. Sure, I can roll. Probably. I always mix things wrong if I try to cook, but you can't mess up rolling, can you?" She takes the roller and starts to squish the dough with it.
Or maybe you can. P'draig, reaches into the flour container and sprinkles a little over the dough, shifts over meaning to set a hand apiece over Avey's arms crossing hers. "Like this," he tells her, apparently intent on guiding the motion so it's less 'squishing' and more 'rolling'. "Sure, she's getting out of the nursery for dinner," Paddy tells Deke. "Bet she'd be thrilled to see you."
D'kai, appearing somewhat startled that he shouldn't know a candidate for his own dragon's clutch, grins a touch sheepishly. "Well, congratulations for /that/." He steps back to allow room for P'draig to amend and correct the rolling motion. "Don't worry," the lad stage-whispers, "I only handed it off to you 'cause I'd probably break it, or something." Then he's propping one elbow on the counter, nodding towards the brown rider, a pleased expression flicking across his features. "You think? Yeah, I'd like that."
"I know," Avey says impatiently to P'draig. "You have to squish it /before/ you roll it." At least, you do if you're Avey. Anyhow, now that the dough is someone flatter, she starts rolling. She doesn't contribute anything to the other part of the conversation, about children and dinner, but by the puzzled look on her face, she seems to think it odd.
"Okay, okay," P'draig says laughingly and backs off a step, hands on hips leaving floury prints on his shorts. There's a bob of his head for D'kai though. "Great. We can go out to meet her later if you want. She likes to run around the Bowl before and after supper pretending to be a hatchling."
There's a chuckle for Paddy's description, and D'kai grins. "Hasn't changed, much, then. Last I saw her, she played at Impression and you said she always picked Jekzith." That laugh draws out for the memory, and then he's lowering his chin to rest on his balled fist, watching Avey's industrious rolling with an approving nod of someone who's no idea what's the right or wrong motion, anyway. "Lookin' good, Avey. That's some fine pie crust we've made."
"How thin do you..." Avey starts to ask, only to wince when she hears someone calling for her from the storage caverns. "Oops. I better go. Sorry! Uh, thanks for letting me help," she says, and hurries off to answer the summons.
Avey heads toward the storage caverns.
Avey has left.
"She's a little more varied in her choices now," P'draig tells D'kai, grinning. "Sometimes she wants blue or green even gold." He gives Avey a little wave as she scoots off, takes the pin and finishes rolling out that half of dough. "Grab the pie dish?" he nods to a heavy ceramic dish off to the side.
Straightening as Avey dashes off, Deke lifts one hand as she absconds and brushes the other against his apron. Eyebrows lift, and he tips his head towards P'draig: "Ooh, does she now? Does she want to be a dragonrider, just like her daddy?" He fetches the dish, as requested, and slips it across the table to the former Weyrlingmaster. "I bet she's just a joy to be around." Then there's a moment of thought, and he asks, "Is she living with - you and T'mic?"
"She's three going on four. One day she wants to be a rider like her parents, the next she wants to be a fancy dancer at the Hall, the next she's convinced some Lord Holder's son is going to come sweep her off her feet when she's 'all growed up' and make her a Lady." P'draig's shoulders roll a little, grin widening. "You know, like kids her age do." The pin is set aside, the brownrider folding the crust in half to lift it carefully onto the dish and cover the bottom with nimble fingers. "Yeah, she is. She's just ... she's my sunshine," Paddy says fondly of his daughter and looks up, shakes his head. "Yes and no. She sleeps up in the weyr part-time, I keep most of her stuff up there and we have family time all together, but she's part-time down in the nursery some nights too. Balanced, you know?"
There's another chuckle for that, and an understanding tilt of D'kai's head - quickly turned into a rueful grin and a shake. "And a handful, too, then, I bet." And though he's lounging against the counter, he's watching P'draig's movement, too - crust goes in the pan, okay - because you never know when you need to bake a pie, right? That one word, balanced, yeah, the bronze rider repeats it and nods slowly. "Of course. And you and Mic need your own time, too." But further than that, he doesn't go, instead switching, non-sequitur to: "How long will you bake it for?"
"A little, but not too bad," P'draig affirms. "She's still -- you know," and he mimics one of Palia's long solemn looks, "like this a lot. But she does play and laugh and run too." With the crust placed, P'draig gestures to the fruit bowl. "Pour that right in while I roll out the top crust." And he suits actions to words. "Mm. Exactly and Mic's -- well he's okay playing with kids to make them laugh, but the tough stuff kind of makes him curl up in a little ball and hide." There's a moment's pause before he goes on. "And I need time to slip back to Fort to see Paige a couple of nights a week too." He brushes some flour on the counter aside, nods down at the waiting crust-and-dish, "about a half hour, maybe a little longer."
"Serious?" Deke offers for that face, another amused sort of sound escaping him before he's reaching for the bowl of fruit - catching just one more of the purple ones to toss into his mouth before he's carefully shaking the berries into the pie pan. "At least," and then he's wiping a drip off on his nice white apron, staining it and then motioning wildly, arms waving in the arm, "Like this all the time! Would probably prefer serious to excitable. Plus, it means she's a thinker!" As though P'draig should need some sort of reassurance regarding his solemn daughter. And then D'kai's nodding again, making appropriately understanding noises, though he can't suppress another grin at the mention of his clutchmate. "It sounds like you've got everything worked out, Paddy, and I'll admit I'm kind of jealous. You know. Settled down, with family, and not one but /two/ weyrmates." That smile widens to show it's a cheery kind of jealous, and then the last berry's rolled into the pie crust and he's nodding. "Good. 'Cause even not cooked it's smelling fantastic."
"Heh, yeah, Jaivery's the one who's -- well he's a boy, you know. Very much a /boy/. More active." P'draig catches a falling berry and pops it into his mouth, folds crust to move over on top. "Okay, so this can be a fun part too, pinching the crust together and he demonstrates. "Give it a whirl?" Gray-blue eyes lift to D'kai at mention of jealousy. "Don't be in a hurry to settle, Deke. You're young, have a little fun first," is Paddy's quiet advice. "Getting settled isn't everything." There's a little pause and a sheepish smile. "But yes, I'm happy and well -- I'm glad to be and very grateful too. There's been plenty of tough times along the way." His hands clap together then and he beams. "And that pie is about ready to go in!"
"Awh," And it's a noise made for a lack of anything else to say, and D'kai applies himself instead to pinching his long fingers against the pie crust, and he's meticulous to ensure each is a set distance apart form the other so the end result is neat... ish. "You know. I think most of it - right now, at least - is Mickey. With all those warm, fuzzy egg feelings, and things. And I've always been used to having - family around." So he shrugs, finishes closing up the pie with a dramatic motion of his hand and then giving the pie plate a little twirl so it spins in place, and then he's lifting his gaze to meet Paddy's with a grin in response to that sheepish smile. "It's all good. And I certainly know how to have fun. And eat pie!" Which is fun. "That's it? That was /easy/." He seems almost surprised.
"Yeah? All of that rosy, happy, Papa glow rubbing off on you eh?" P'draig laughs as the pie twirls and he reaches out when it stops to pick it up, head to the ovens. "Yeah, that's it. It's not that hard to actually put it together, it's the little things like getting the butter and flour proportions right, not putting in too much water and getting the fruit sweetened and spiced right that can trip you up." He flips he oven open, slides the pie in and nudges it to the side, closes the oven and dodges out of the way as a hectic-paced kitchen worker speeds by with a casserole to put in. "And then don't forget it in the oven," he points out.
Laughter. "You bet. It could be worse; he could hate being on the sands and begrudge the eggs for wasting his time. Or something. And then have /that/ rub off on me." But Mikhuth's not, so D'kai doesn't waste another moment of thought on it, and then he's shaking his head towards the brown rider and offering a twitch of his lips as a smile. "So I got the cheater's shortcut to pie-making, thanks to you? That's all right, I think I can deal with that." He's only saying that because he gets to taste the end result, of course, but that's all right, too, and the lad taps a finger against his temple. "Right. Don't forget the pie. So now there's nothing left to do but wait and drool and anticipate? 'Cause I could do with a cup of something cool."
"Oh not cheating, but a little bit of a short-cut yeah, baby steps you know, to learning anything," P'draig replies, smile warm for the bronzerider. "And - yes. Beer?" Paddy offers, eyes twinkling. "They'll be warm but I have a pair of bottles in Jekzith's bags. They were for later, but no problem dipping into my supply up in the weyr."
"Cool, warm," there's a light lift of D'kai's shoulders, and the sidelong look he offers P'draig is decidedly roguish, "I suppose when it comes to beer it doesn't matter much!" And then, with one last, long, hopeful sniff of the air, he's motioning for the door: lead on, my good man!
That look earns a bright laugh and a devlish wink. "Not with this beer it doesn't, smooth, rich, best stuff, I tell you, man," and Paddy tidies up a little first, leaves his apron behind, then leads the way outward, cracking a joke on the way. It doesn't take long to get the beers, crack them open and share a few sips outside in the sun, then it's back into the kitchen to enjoy the pie and trade more stories before going in search of Palia.