Earl Ciel (Astre) Phantomhive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sweetlies) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
[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?
no subject
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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.
no subject
They'll get sick then, I would count that a fair lesson. Tanaka would have done similar when I was young.
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[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?
no subject
[Political intrigue could be interesting but it's not the sort of thing he ever really paid attention to.]
Ah- no. I think I'll be alright. [Part of him wonders if that's enough time for a nap but he keeps his mouth shut on that.] You've been very helpful, thank you.
no subject
Pfft, I bet you do, pumpkin. And no probs. You need some cooking tips, consider part-timing at the Melting Pot. It's the restaurant on the Iskaulit. We can always use a few more hands and you can learn at the feet of the master.
no subject
His ears heat up a little at the nickname.]
I'll be sure to keep that in mind. I'm sure I could use the extra experience. [If nothing else, learning more is always a benefit.]
no subject
[And make him his little gofer. Thanks for "volunteering," Ciel!
He gives the kid a salute and then wanders off toward the nook seats to catch a quick catnap.]