(no subject)
The kitchen is a complete and utter mess.
Or at least Lisey's little corner of it is, and that's almost enough to make her throw in the towel before she's got anything to show for it. But no, she's so close now, she's put in too much work to give up, so she swipes a sticky hand across her forehead and just keeps on going.
It'd all started a couple of months ago when Lisey had noticed some odd-looking kitchen equipment gathering dust in one of the cupboards. A little investigation and some inquiry uncovered the fact that they were apparently tools to make chocolate, left behind by a pretty dark-haired woman who, when she thought on it, Lisey had remembered seeing in the kitchen a time or two around the holidays. It seemed too much of a shame to let it all sit there unused, so for the past several months she'd been reading, experimenting, and just generally seeing if she could make any of it work.
The answer, at least at first, had been no. Making chocolate, she'd quickly discovered, was a difficult process, and there were many opportunities for a beginner to smuck it up before they'd barely gotten started. Still, Debushers don't quit easy, and it wasn't like there was much else to do with her days.
So now here she is, in what must be her fifth or sixth week of experimentation - she tends to set up shop after her Wednesday morning breakfast shift - and it's possible, just barely possible, that she might have succeeded in making actual chocolate. She won't know until she gives it time to set up a little, but licking the spoon is, at the very least, encouraging. Still, it's definitely a step in the right direction, and Lisey leans against the counter to allow herself one short moment of triumph.
She grins, and drops the spoon in an empty, chocolate-streaked mixing bowl. Time to start cleaning up.
[Help Lisey with her chocolate-making, or just take advantage of the spoils. ST/LT fine, set to this afternoon.]
Or at least Lisey's little corner of it is, and that's almost enough to make her throw in the towel before she's got anything to show for it. But no, she's so close now, she's put in too much work to give up, so she swipes a sticky hand across her forehead and just keeps on going.
It'd all started a couple of months ago when Lisey had noticed some odd-looking kitchen equipment gathering dust in one of the cupboards. A little investigation and some inquiry uncovered the fact that they were apparently tools to make chocolate, left behind by a pretty dark-haired woman who, when she thought on it, Lisey had remembered seeing in the kitchen a time or two around the holidays. It seemed too much of a shame to let it all sit there unused, so for the past several months she'd been reading, experimenting, and just generally seeing if she could make any of it work.
The answer, at least at first, had been no. Making chocolate, she'd quickly discovered, was a difficult process, and there were many opportunities for a beginner to smuck it up before they'd barely gotten started. Still, Debushers don't quit easy, and it wasn't like there was much else to do with her days.
So now here she is, in what must be her fifth or sixth week of experimentation - she tends to set up shop after her Wednesday morning breakfast shift - and it's possible, just barely possible, that she might have succeeded in making actual chocolate. She won't know until she gives it time to set up a little, but licking the spoon is, at the very least, encouraging. Still, it's definitely a step in the right direction, and Lisey leans against the counter to allow herself one short moment of triumph.
She grins, and drops the spoon in an empty, chocolate-streaked mixing bowl. Time to start cleaning up.
[Help Lisey with her chocolate-making, or just take advantage of the spoils. ST/LT fine, set to this afternoon.]