gumdrops and sugarplums / cooking

[clarence a.]

Clarence had always wanted to be good at cooking and baking. He loved all kinds of food and he loved sweets and he was generally a relatively peaceful individual, so it seemed like the perfect hobby. However, the one flaw in that entire plan was that he was absolutely terrible at it. He'd been patient. He tried to follow his mother around in the kitchen and watch what she did, but when he tried to mimic it, it was as though the task were completely impossible. He wasn't sure if it was something about him that was wrong or if he just wasn't any good with the steps, but he could never quite get it right. Sometimes he would get halfway decent food but there always seemed to be quite a few roadblocks before he even got to the point of maybe having an edible product.

In this new life, though, he was determined to change that. He was going to improve his cooking and baking skills or else this new life was completely wasted. Finally, he had no real obligation to anything else, and had time to try to just cook and bake. However, there was a slight problem with that. Everything had changed. Not just in terms of talking animals, but also in time itself. It had been centuries since Clarence had even tried to cook. It wasn't like he didn't remember the basics or something like that - he knew them quite well, in fact - but the equipment itself had changed. Now there were all sorts of fancy things that used electricity or had different methods of heating food he could've never even dreamed of. While it was all wonderful and probably much more efficient than what his mother had used in his old world, he also had no clue how to use any of it. So, while all the ingredients for small mince pies were pulled out, the man was simply staring at his reflection in the oven, clearly unaware of where to even begin with it. "Um, hello? On? Power? Please?" Well, it didn't seem to respond to his voice. He then opened the door and stuck his head inside the device, looking for some sort of switch or indication as to how to use it.

LISTEN UP; HEAR THE PATRIOTS SHOUT

BLOOD LUST IN A HOLY WAR

© LEXASPERATED

[ORPHEUS]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Orpheus, on the other hand, had been a natural. His own baking skills didn't get where they were overnight; he'd started out with burnt cookies just like everyone else. But there was only so many ways a child could express love for a very busy, very paranoid father figure, and this was the one that he had settled on quickly enough. Peanut butter cookies and all sorts of cakes. The quality improved over time, and now he could work just about anything his paws could touch. Some things were admittedly a bit of a pain in the ass and always would be — his paws were simply too big for silverware, and the lack of opposable thumbs would pain him if he knew how much easier life would be with them — but he had always done his best to overcome the obstacles placed in his path. Clarence will probably be able to do the same, given time.

And a bit of luck, if this was how he went about things. The lion clears his throat softly, though he's already carried himself close enough to reach out and touch Clarence if he so chose. His light frame and soft paws do wonders for keeping him quiet, which isn't always a good thing when the person he's sneaking up on has their head literally inside of an oven. Which brings him back to his point, in a strange roundabout way: "You're not looking for Hansel and Gretel, are you?"

[arcy]

➵

Unlike many of his other skills, Link could confidently say that his ability to cook was his. It wasn't some ... past Link's, someone that he didn't know but everyone else seemed to. He learned through trial and error, without even knowing the basics. And he took to it like a pro, even, though it took quite a few failed attempts to figure out what he could and couldn't do.
Of course, Link cooked over a campfire, not ... whatever this was. Hyrule didn't have electricity, so ovens were a foreign concept. In other words, he was just as puzzled as Clarence was by this strange contraption. The canine lets out a strange, confused chirp-ish noise -- anything but making actual words was fine with him, it seemed. He's not quite sure what 'Hansel and Gretel' is, either -- it sparks something like vague familiarity, but the headache explodes like small fireworks when he tries and remembers what. Unrecognizing of the lion's mocking tone, Link steps in close to Clarence to peer into the oven, too. He doesn't get quite what the other is looking at, though. Unless ... Oh. 'Turn it on' -- like buttons. Link steps back, tilts his head, narrows his eyes just slightly. .. Oh, there's some knobs. Link gently nudges Clarence, and chuffs softly as he points to them with his nose. He wonders if he'd be allowed to help? Link hasn't cooked in a while, he misses it.

"we will not be torn" —-- link / ascendants / misc