Earl Ciel (Astre) Phantomhive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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driftfleet2019-02-17 02:54 am
sweetlies) wrote in driftfleet2019-02-17 02:54 am
Entry tags:
action
Who: Ciel Phantomhive & OTA
Action: Marsiva
When: Feb. 17
[Good morning, Fleet! There's a young teen with dark blue-black hair wandering the Marsiva today. He's wearing a slightly more modern twist on Victorian era clothes and his right eye is wrapped with a bandage but it doesn't seem to be bothering him at all.
What does bother him though is to wake up somewhere entirely new with little knowledge in regards. At least, little compared to what he'd prefer. Going through this once when he arrived in Riverview Quarantine had been exhausting enough, but at least the experience had left him more adjusted to the level of technology here. It's not like his little house or the phones they had given the residents of the Quarantine, but it was all manageable at the very least.
For now, he hopes to see something, someone, familiar. Either that, or he hopes to find a decent cup of tea and company that isn't entirely bothersome. And as he wanders, seeing no one familiar, he settles on the hope for tea. As long as it was strong. And maybe something sweet.]
Action: Marsiva
When: Feb. 17
[Good morning, Fleet! There's a young teen with dark blue-black hair wandering the Marsiva today. He's wearing a slightly more modern twist on Victorian era clothes and his right eye is wrapped with a bandage but it doesn't seem to be bothering him at all.
What does bother him though is to wake up somewhere entirely new with little knowledge in regards. At least, little compared to what he'd prefer. Going through this once when he arrived in Riverview Quarantine had been exhausting enough, but at least the experience had left him more adjusted to the level of technology here. It's not like his little house or the phones they had given the residents of the Quarantine, but it was all manageable at the very least.
For now, he hopes to see something, someone, familiar. Either that, or he hopes to find a decent cup of tea and company that isn't entirely bothersome. And as he wanders, seeing no one familiar, he settles on the hope for tea. As long as it was strong. And maybe something sweet.]
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[He spins the bowls onto the counter and the third one joins it, set down gently by the spectral hand which then winks out of existence. Taako considers the gel pastes in front of him and then snaps his fingers. Time to make a tart. He starts off by grabbing some of the paste and forming it into a ball, then with a spark it changes into a juicy baking apple.]
But no, to answer your question. Usually only newbs get to be on the Marsiva- [Or the dead.] -while the rest of us are on smaller ships, waiting for you to get transferred over and disrupt our day to day with confetti and some weird ass pudding.
[Taako pulls a knife from a drawer and starts peeling the apple in one fluid single strip, spinning the fruit in his hand as he goes.]
Right now though, we're all stuck here for whatever reason waiting for night to come so we can go traipsing around in each other's minds. It's super mcfucked up. Welcome to the Fleet.
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And interesting, as he watched that paste turn into an apple. It makes him miss Riverview already and their well-stocked kitchen.]
Confetti and pudding..? [That sounds absolutely ridiculous. Then again, this is the kid that hates his birthday and being dragged to parties. Something like that just doesn't appeal to him.
The last bit does get a curious look.]
Like memories?
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[It could actually be good. Taako doesn't know. It isn't the same as pocket pudding though, and nowhere near as good as Paloma's baked goods or even marginally close to his baking, so it gets relegated to the bottom tier of the barrel for now.
With one apple peeled, he starts on the others, leaving the cleanly shorn fruit sitting on a cutting board.]
And bingo, got it in one. See that timer over there?
[He tips his head toward the timer prominently displayed on the screen in a place of honor above everyone, steadily ticking down toward zero.]
We all do a blackout when that hits the end and then you'll have the fun of wading through people's minds, picking up junk and then getting treated to the world's--universe's? Uh, this planar reality's biggest invasion of privacy ever.
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Ciel follows his gaze to the timer, frowning a little, and then shaking his head.]
Something like this happened where I used to be. We shared memories. I saw a few over the course of a week, and I know a few people saw mine.
[He isn't keen on a repeat of that.]
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[He drops the finished apples into the bowl and starts coring and slicing them.]
Sooner or later, the yahoos who run this joint will get sloppy and fuck up and then we'll get a chance to rip them a new asshole. Bright, shiny hope at the end of this brown smear of a rainbow.
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One could certainly hope, at least. I'm sure I'd like to see that happen. [He can't imagine anyone who wouldn't though, being kidnapped for entertainment. Memories purposely being put on display rather than the mistake that cause it in Riverview.
It leaves a sour taste in his mouth.]
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[He spins a peeled apple on the tip of his finger and it separates into perfectly sliced pieces, gently dropping into the bowl.]
Sit back and relax as much as you can, I guess. [The rest of the apples follow suit and Taako sprinkles them with sugar and cinnamon, giving them a toss.]
Meanwhile, do you eat? 'Cause unless you're on a good ship, you better get used to eating their weird flavored gels or earn some cash and drop by my restaurant.
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I'm sure you'll be seeing plenty of me then. I'm used to... proper meals. Even if some of them were instant, microwave meals.
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Melting Pot - Iskaulit. It's not hard to find, but I don't do freebies.
[With the apples prepped, he goes and starts rolling out the dough which he transmutes wholesale rather than bothering with the individual ingredients. He might be able to take a nap here whenever he likes, but saving some spell slots is generally advisable.]
What's your name, kid?
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I don't expect freebies, don't worry.
[So it may be a bit. But then he'll see plenty of him. For now, he's fascinated by his magic and using it for cooking.]
Ciel. My name's Ciel Phantomhive.
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[Not that there's been much call for him to do much wizarding since coming here. He quickly rolls out the dough into two circles and places one in the bottom of a circular tin.]
What augment you got? Y'know, the thing in your head that says "this is your job now" even if you didn't know how to do it before?
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[Not that he'd ever really seen any wizarding anyway. This is as close as he's gotten to seeing magic in action ever, really. There was Blavat's performacne at Sphere Music Hall but he knows how fake that was. This? Not so much.]
I'm supposed to be a cook, luckily I started learning this past year.
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Good luck with that here. Unless your ship has a bunch of weirdo survivalists on it who like to go hunting and stockpile meat, or they got their own garden, you might be stuck figuring out how to use the gels to cook. I don't do delivery.
[Once the apples are spread out, Taako pulls a knife out and starts slicing the second sheet of dough into strips and stars.]
How much do you know already?
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Hopefully they aren't. I hunted back in England but I never dealt with the animals after. I left that to the servants. [Well... one servant, mostly.]
I can make biscuits. [Cookies.] Some soups and stews, eggs. Muffins. Mostly simple things. Undertaker did a lot of the cooking since I'm a bit weak compared to most people.
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Well, you don't have servants here - as the cook, you get to see what the 99% get to deal with now.
[Demands and requests and complaints if the food isn't up to standard, the usual affair. It's as Taako suspected though, this kid was affluent. He's worked a few fancy parties and knows what their kind are like.]
Cooking's not about strength though, it's about finesse. If you're smart and inventive, you can figure out how to get things to work.
[Taako, on the other hand, just used magic because he wasn't about to lower himself to using the gels as anything else other than base components for his spells. As he finishes the weaved top, he starts putting dough stars around the edge of the pie.]
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I'll have to look into finding some cooking books. It can't be harder than running Funtom or a cafe, after all. [Certainly not... right?]
You seem fairly skilled with it all.
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[As well as a high degree of necessity riding his ass to improve. If he hadn't been a good chef, been able to make himself useful, no one would have taken him on with their caravans. He survived by cooking for people and cooking better than some doofus with a few stew recipes under their belt could do it. He innovated, he created, he poured his soul into the culinary arts and now here he was - decorating a star-topped apple pie with gusto.]
But you shouldn't compare yourself to ol' Taako - that's basically like trying to compare a rock to platinum. There are some cook books in the library on the Iskaulit, if you want to increase your repertoire. You'll need to keep a constant rotation menu going - no same dishes in the same month, no repetition of menu types from week to week or your people will get bored and complain.
You can manage that, right?
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I'll have to do better then. I'm sure I haven't even a fraction of that kind of time.
[Luckily though, he is clever. Clever and determined. There's a reason he so successfully carried the title of Earl Phantomhive after all.]
I'm sure I can. If nothing else, I can always ask the rest of the crew to submit requests or something. Then fight among themselves when they don't like what got pulled.
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[Never one to discount the accomplishments of human chefs, it's not about age, it's about the cunning and intelligence needed. You have to stay one step ahead in creating new recipes.]
Pfft good luck with getting your crew to help though. Most of them have probably just been dealing with the paste. Mine? [He sighs dramatically.] They honestly don't know how good they have it getting afternoon tea brunches, my absolutely fucking fantastic chocolate coconut bars for snacks, and the dinners? Fuck! I make great food and I live on a ship full of practically immortal people who wouldn't know a good meal if I stabbed them with it.
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[Ciel couldn't claim to be terribly experienced at cooking, but he was certainly better than a year before. And far better than when he was ten or twelve. At that point, he'd never actually even gone into a kitchen except to sneak peek at what cakes the servants were making for their birthday.]
They'll help or they'll suffer whatever they get. Or they can make their own meals. Or starve. I'm not their parent, after all.
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As the cook on the ship, you practically are. It's your job to ensure they don't just eat cheese from a can and call it a day.
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They'll get sick then, I would count that a fair lesson. Tanaka would have done similar when I was young.
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[With the apple pie finished, he does a quick egg wash over the top and then transmutes a handful of salt into large crystals of sugar instead. He dusts these over the top of the pie and then uses his foot to kick the oven door open. A bluish hued Mage Hand grabs the pie and slides it into the waiting maw of the oven and then he kicks it closed again.]
And tell me how it goes. That's some shit I wanna see.
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Still, he gives a little shrug and a faint grin, just a bit smug.] Gramps never coddled me. So why should I coddle them?
I'll be glad to share the details, of course.
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[Taako takes out an egg-timer, which he has somehow managed to paint with rainbow hues despite it belonging to the Marisva, and sets the timer.]
And deffo do. Now - we got between 30 and 45 minutes until that pie is done so long as this place doesn't go janky again. You need anymore info, little bud, or can Taako go grab a nap?
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