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[anewlanguage]

[Cain has flour on his cheek, and he's in the kitchen, taking a break.] Y'know, worldwide there's room for comfort food after a real shitty day. I'm takin' requests.

Me, I always went for pierogis. Stayed in Poland just long enough to learn how to make 'em. [And to kill a diplomat. But. You know.] Kid seemed to like 'em pretty well, too. Pretty sure tastes change, though...

Anyway, give 'em here, give me all your requests.

Comments

[deadly_ned]

Thank you. I...plan to. She also does...very nice bee-keeping. Honey and cheese.


Piemaker. It's more...specific than baker, I don't do cookies or...cake.

My name is Ned.

[anewlanguage]

She on board, or waiting for you back home?

[He wipes his hand on the damp towel he has handy, and holds it out]

David Cain. Nice to meet you. I've been wanting to meet some people who can do more'n shoot a gun for a while.

[deadly_ned]

She's waiting. We, um. We sat down together, and we talked about it, and we decided...I should be the one to come to the Barge instead of her. She's...taking charge of the restaurant while I'm gone.

[The Piemaker, as a rule, did not like to touch other people - especially people he wasn't quite sure weren't dead. He looked at David Cain's hand and his smile visibly faded.

But the man was breathing. There was a warm glow in his cheeks. He was living.

So the Piemaker shook the living man's hand]

I don't think I've ever shot a gun so you....have me beat, there. Here. Here and there.

[anewlanguage]

Not sure I'd call it being beat. But then, I'm a pacifist now.

[He smiles slightly--don't mind the scars on his face, his hands, his arms]

Tell me 'bout this cake-pie. Like I said she's probably not gonna take it from me...but if she knows who you are maybe she will. If we leave it sneaky-like.

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker too was a pacifist and had been for the vast majority of his life. But as he observed the scars of David Cain, he arrived at the realization that there were, perhaps, two kinds of scarring. The sort you could see, and the sort you couldn't.

David Cain seemed to have both, but the Piemaker didn't like to pry. All people have their secrets, and it was rude to go looking when not invited inside]


It's...actually more of a cookie...cake pie.

The bottom layer is made from cookie dough, filled with cake batter, topped with pie crust.

[He holds up one finger at a time, arriving at three fingers held up at the end]

Cookie. Cake. Pie.

[anewlanguage]

[Cain might have answered questions (he usually won't), but he feels so wrung out and carved up and bewildered that he's grateful for something like pie to talk about.]

Never had anything like it! I've got a couple apologies to make, if Cassandra doesn't want it I know someone who will.

[He gets some ingredients, but he's watching Ned discreetly.]

You're the first guy I met who made the decision to come here with a partner's say-so. Does she know what you're bartering with the Admiral for?

[deadly_ned]

I don't..usually make it. Except on special occasions, for special people. It's...sort of sacrilegious in inner baking circles.


[The Piemaker, in turn, begins to gather ingredients from the opposite side of the kitchen]

She does. It was her suggestion I come here and...do this. It's a shared problem.

[anewlanguage]

[He smiles. Right now, it's sort of a relief to hear that somewhere in the world people still cooperate.]

You have an inmate yet?

[deadly_ned]

I do. His name is Thomas. He...we....don't get out much.

I've been trying to fix that lately but we're both very introverted people so it's...hard.

[anewlanguage]

Yeah, I haven't heard of him.

You don't come out for baking?

[deadly_ned]

He's a quiet person.

I do. I do come out for baking, but I have an oven in my room so really it's just a matter of coming....here for ingredients.

But I've been making an honest effort.

[He begins cracking eggs one-handed, whisking them up in a bowl]

[anewlanguage]

[Cain nods, watching, thinking.]

Y'could forget the oven in your place and come cook out here when I'm on shift. Or just off shift, probably better.

[deadly_ned]

I could. But I think the kitchen jobs are reserved for inmates. I don't want to scalp other people's responsibilities.

[anewlanguage]

So we'll make it a social thing. Just you an' me, in our off time when no one's using this place. Besides, you probably shouldn't let people see you hanging around with me anyway.

[deadly_ned]

Why shouldn't I let people see us together?

[anewlanguage]

I'm not all that popular right now. Good reason, but I don't want it to rub off if you're already introverted.

[Whistling again.]

[deadly_ned]

I've never been popular.

[Quite the opposite, actually. Up until very recently, the Piemaker didn't know what it was like to have good friends at all]


What happened?


That is, assuming anything happened at all. Sometimes people don't need a valid reason.

[anewlanguage]

I hurt someone who's dear to a whole lot of people on board.

[He glances up]

Funny thing about good food, it brings a lot of people around. Guess it doesn't guarantee good friends though, eh?

How'd you get into all this?

[anewlanguage]

I hurt someone who's dear to a whole lot of people on board.

[He glances up]

Funny thing about good food, it brings a lot of people around. Guess it doesn't guarantee good friends though, eh?

[deadly_ned]

On purpose?



It does. Food is a staple. Someone dies, you bring food. Someone gets hurt, or gets married or has a baby....food.


Comfort food.

[anewlanguage]

[On purpose? Cain hisses a breath, and then nods]

I was an assassin back home. I taught her what I knew.

Think this'll bring her some comfort?

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker looks down at the dough, contemplating it with serious thought]


...Probably not enough. Not at the level she would...need.

And if you're an assassin she'll probably suspect it's poisonous.

[anewlanguage]

[Oh how badly he wants to say that she would know he wouldn't poison her. But he has before; it would be a lie.

And so he nods.]

...Just tell her it's from you. She needs her friends, she needs someone reaching out to her.

[deadly_ned]

I can say it's from both of us.

Compromise...?

[anewlanguage]

Long as she knows you supervised.

[Cain smiles, and wonders how it will go. He won't be there to see--Cass would likely punch him in the throat if he showed his face right now--but he hopes she'll smile. For Ned, at least, if not for him.]

What kind of cake are we putting in it?