tinkerheart (
tinkerheart) wrote in
voidtreckerexpress2019-08-08 10:42 pm
Behold! The supremacy of elvish cuisine cannot to be contested!
Who: Feanor and OTA.
Where: The Kitchn.
When: Post 19, in the literal dead of the night.
What: The Great Voidtracker Bake-out aka Feanor trying to lure out his son to eat.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an elf in possession of small children, must from time to time resort to bribery.
Said need usually arose when either he or Nerdanel wanted to have some actual work done. That meant that one of them had to sufficiently occupy their incredibly curious and extremely energetic sons so that the other could relish in the pure miracle of Uninterrupted Time To Concentrate. Not an easy feat to accomplish.
It was in times like those, that Feanor had acquired several skills that had nothing to do with metalwork or jewels or clever mechanisms but a lot with taming little critters that revel in getting into all sorts of trouble and ask an inordinate amount of questions.
Feanor can't decide if his good memories aren't actually more painful than the bad ones.
That's why he actively chooses for his culinary experiments the hours where all others are long asleep. He doesn't need to sleep himself. He's been idle for far too long and the last thing he needs is more occasions to dwell on his past.
A thorough search of the storage carriage and the kitchen area itself revealed that there is not a single lemon or orange in the whole train so he had to make do with the second-best option.
Almonds. Nobody can resist his almond tart.
That might ... or might not result in people on the train other than the intended recipient very much interested in the results of his experiments.
Where: The Kitchn.
When: Post 19, in the literal dead of the night.
What: The Great Voidtracker Bake-out aka Feanor trying to lure out his son to eat.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an elf in possession of small children, must from time to time resort to bribery.
Said need usually arose when either he or Nerdanel wanted to have some actual work done. That meant that one of them had to sufficiently occupy their incredibly curious and extremely energetic sons so that the other could relish in the pure miracle of Uninterrupted Time To Concentrate. Not an easy feat to accomplish.
It was in times like those, that Feanor had acquired several skills that had nothing to do with metalwork or jewels or clever mechanisms but a lot with taming little critters that revel in getting into all sorts of trouble and ask an inordinate amount of questions.
Feanor can't decide if his good memories aren't actually more painful than the bad ones.
That's why he actively chooses for his culinary experiments the hours where all others are long asleep. He doesn't need to sleep himself. He's been idle for far too long and the last thing he needs is more occasions to dwell on his past.
A thorough search of the storage carriage and the kitchen area itself revealed that there is not a single lemon or orange in the whole train so he had to make do with the second-best option.
Almonds. Nobody can resist his almond tart.
That might ... or might not result in people on the train other than the intended recipient very much interested in the results of his experiments.

no subject
"Suh-weet! Awesome, thanks!" Peter says happily before digging into the slice of cake. "It's awesome! Thanks!" He repeats before turning his attention to Tony's question.
"I mean.. when am I not? But I mean I least slept for a little while?"
no subject
"You said he doesn't like milk. How about cocoa?" he says. The question is directed at Tony but Feanor is looking at both of them. Peter can perfectly speak for himself if he's awake enough to do so.
Not every kid likes plain milk, especially when heated, but there's something that's popular with everybody. If they couldn't find cocoa in the kitchen or storage, maybe there's at least chocolate in the train's shop. Sorry Peter but there's nothing that calms down overexcited, or overstressed, children like warm milk. Short of actual medications.
no subject
And no, he did't kill Skip. Just.. almost.
Tony's drawn from dark thoughts back to Feanor. He blinks a moment, running the words back in his mind to catch up. "Oh, yeah. He likes that. Second shelf on the right hand side should have the cocoa powder. Thank you, Feanor." Just like with the cake, he felt grateful to the elf for being so kind to the young man. He didn't normally go overboard on the 'thank you's but Feanor was catching him at a moment close to Tony's heart where it was easier to be genuine.
no subject
"Yes. Hot cocoa is exactly what I need right now." He doubts that it'll be anywhere close to May's but he won't say that, that would be rude. He tries to ignore the look on Tony's face and hopes no one presses him about his lack of sleep.
It sucks, but there doesn't seem to be much he can do it about it, so he'll stay up and eat cake and drink hot cocoa. No skin off his back.
...at least, until he's super tired by midday tomorrow. Oh well.
no subject
"So I thought," he says raising from his place.
The cocoa is exactly where Tony said it would be. So Peter has to wait only a couple of minutes before being presented steaming mug of cocoa. Minutes because Feanor decided to heat the milk on the stove and not in the microwave. He already developed an intense dislike of the microwave. It is convenient, yes, but it makes everything taste awful.
"There. Maybe this will help."
no subject
"Wouldn't that have been easier in the microwave?" He asks, before thinking of one reason Feanor might not have used it. "Are you familiar with how to use it? I can show you if you'd like."
He'd been distracted with Peter or he might have spoken up before Feanor poured the milk into a saucepan.
no subject
"It would," he replies and the saucepan lands on the stove as it should.
He doesn't lash out or consider Tony's question an insult. If anything else that shows how far they've gone since those first days on the train. Has he really started to feel comfortable here?
"There's no need. I know how to use it. I just don't like it. It makes everything taste horrid."
Lo and behold, someone here is even willing to explain himself. And he doesn't immediately fly into a blind rage. A true miracle.