[video]
--said it was simple. It's been really easy so far! I can't believe I ever worried about cooking.
[There's something on the stove, heat radiating off of it as Asellus feeds a little more coal into the iron belly and chatters merrily away to whoever it is she thinks she's talking to, a spoon in one hand and an oven mitt in the other. She almost looks competent.
Almost.]
So I just add the brandy, and it should be fine, right?
[Man, it'd sure be nice if someone could teleport there and stop her. Anyone with even the foggiest about her cooking skills might see this next bit in something like slow motion, as she opens the lid and liberally splashes the brandy into the pan.
The fireball that follows is almost blinding, and she yelps as the contents catch. Black smoke billows, and then she's coughing and choking and frantically trying to bat at her hair and cover the fire-- she's learned that much, at least. The Forge tumbles from its perch and all you can see is her bare feet for a bit.
Something in the range of ten minutes later, she picks it up after darting in and out of frame for a while. Swinging around, you can see the windows are all open, and the kitchen itself looks scorched and blackened by the smoke that is taking its time dissipating.
She looks a little bit of a sight herself; one side of her hair is definitely singed and shorter than the other, and she's still coughing, though now mostly from embarrassment. She's far from inexperienced when it comes to kitchen fires, after all.]
....Uh.
Anyone good with cutting hair?
[There's something on the stove, heat radiating off of it as Asellus feeds a little more coal into the iron belly and chatters merrily away to whoever it is she thinks she's talking to, a spoon in one hand and an oven mitt in the other. She almost looks competent.
Almost.]
So I just add the brandy, and it should be fine, right?
[Man, it'd sure be nice if someone could teleport there and stop her. Anyone with even the foggiest about her cooking skills might see this next bit in something like slow motion, as she opens the lid and liberally splashes the brandy into the pan.
The fireball that follows is almost blinding, and she yelps as the contents catch. Black smoke billows, and then she's coughing and choking and frantically trying to bat at her hair and cover the fire-- she's learned that much, at least. The Forge tumbles from its perch and all you can see is her bare feet for a bit.
Something in the range of ten minutes later, she picks it up after darting in and out of frame for a while. Swinging around, you can see the windows are all open, and the kitchen itself looks scorched and blackened by the smoke that is taking its time dissipating.
She looks a little bit of a sight herself; one side of her hair is definitely singed and shorter than the other, and she's still coughing, though now mostly from embarrassment. She's far from inexperienced when it comes to kitchen fires, after all.]
....Uh.
Anyone good with cutting hair?