childrenofbahamutlogs | 01 - Bake a Pretty Cake (ota)

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01 - Bake a Pretty Cake (ota)

WHO: Angeal and whoever wants to bother a man throughout a week
WHAT: Roosters and bread oh my
WHERE: Town
WHEN: The vague existence of October
WARNINGS: none planned

SUMMARY: As a practical man with goals, Angeal has a lot of things he wants to do to make sure his household is doing okay. This means things like re-establishing his bakery, and carrying a rooster. The rooster is important. Don't worry about it.

A - Agriculture

While the autumn air makes things somewhat cool, that doesn't seem to be a matter that's bothering Angeal as he pushes a wheelbarrow along the more residential streets, filled with dirt. He does take a break occasionally as he goes about his business constantly, sometimes carrying little bags on top of the dirt. "You would think dragons could have better timing, rather than right at fall," he says during such a break to anyon who joins him. There's the faint glimmer of gold up along his hairline, horns that are just starting to appear. He doesn't seem happy about it.

B - Bakery Remade

For those making their way through Town today, they may come across one of the empty not-residential buildings with its doors wide open. There are a variety of encounters to be had with this simple fact...

For example, early morning may find anyone passing directly in front of the doors having a face full of dust. Angeal's voice comes from inside. "Ah, shit, sorry. You alright? I was just cleaning this place out. Need something to get the dust out of your mouth?

By noon, a pleasant smell is wafting out of the newly cleaned out bakery. Anyone is welcome to step right inside, as the doors have been left open for the time being. It's not a big fancy place or anything, but there are a couple of tables for anyone who'd like to sit, and a good amount of space behind the counter. Angeal is hard at work kneading more dough as bread bakes in an oven, fairly content with how things are going for the time being.

When evening finally rolls around, Angeal can be found relaxing right outside the bakery with a decently sized piece of wood in his hands that he is making a commendable go of carving words into. "I should have asked for a smithy," he says casually to anyone who slows down enough to linger. "I don't know anything about woodcarving."

C - Cock

Angeal has a rooster tucked underneath his arms at the market.

None of the locals are batting their eyes about this.

Other people at the market, however, may have different reactions. They may especially have different reactions when the roster (otherwise being a pissy little football hisses at them.

"Sorry about that," Angeal says casually. "He's not happy about the situation."

D - Do Whatever

[The wildcard catch all option, for interacting with Angeal however you want]

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Popp points indignantly at the rooster, his other hand coming up to cover his nose defensively.

"You."

This might not actually be the same rooster that crossed him last week but it sure seems like it's broadcasting the same sinister malevolence out of its beady little eyes.

The former HYDRA asset is prowling up and down the main thoroughfare, looking restlessly for something to do. Anything. The noises coming from the building Angeal has chosen for his bakery catch his attention, just in time to get said dust right in the face.

He swipes at it once to clear his eyes, blinks a few times, then stares around inside.

It's... something to do. "Do you need help," he asks, ignoring the actual question Angael gave him.

...Yeah, he's seeing a pattern here.

Fortunately, an offer of help means Angeal can drag him into things regardless. "I could," he says casually, stepping side so that there's plenty of room to go into the bakery. Simple, a bit like the bakery in his childhood memories. A shame to lose the progress of his prior bakery, but pleasantly nostalgic regardless.

"I have a few different things to look over before I can really open this place up to anyone. Any thoughts about the place, just from a first time glance?"

Well. Themis didn't have 'dust in his face' especially high on his list of expectations for today; more the fool for him, as he wipes away enough to clear his vision. A quick lean and spit to the side clears his mouth. Glamorous? No. But the dirt won't mind.

"Exuberant today, dearest Angeal?" the teasing tone is a bit amusing with his face all dirty.

"What project is this, if I may ask?"

[In the late afternoon a red Tiefling steps through the doors of the bakery, initially passing by Angeal without comment- he looks like a guy on break, so she’s not gonna bother him- and making a circle around the premises within with noises of wonderment. Wow! Bread! It smells great! Etc. etc.

Eventually, Absinthe’s mind drifts towards buying some of these baked goodies for herself, which means finding someone to talk to about payment. And there's nobody in the store that she can see. She could just try to steal the bread, but it’s an unnecessary risk when she can go next door and sweet-talk other food out of an NPC storeowner for free. And she does know there’s someone right outside, even though she didn’t stop to talk with him the first time.

She will now. Absinthe pokes her head back out to look at Angeal, her expression friendly, slightly quizzical.]

Hi! You’re the baker here? [Then, taking in his struggle with the sign:] Damn. Do you want to try painting it instead?

It's almost certainly not the same rooster, or else Angeal might get in trouble for theft here. That doesn't mean, however, that the rooster isn't giving Popp the kind of malicious side glance that chickens seem experts of.

If it could peck his toes out, it almost certainly would.

Angeal doesn't think twice about it. "If you're going to pick a fight with my rooster, can you wait until later here? We're working on something."

"That thing you're working on had better be a coop or a cage for that demon bird! You can't leave them wandering around, or they'll get people."

Between his hair, and his glossy green clothes, and the squawking pitch his voice tends to hit when he's yelling, he can easily be interpreted as a large rival rooster by something with a brain the size of a walnut.

Popp's personal theory is that chickens might be evil on this planet.

Painting would probably be the smarter idea, but I don't got paint money, and so here we are. Well, I'll get a handle on it sooner than later, I think.

[He's always been a quick learner. And he's currently the owner of a whole new establishment, so Angeal sets the hunk of wood to the side and pushes himself up onto his feet.]

But that can wait. Yeah, I'm the baker. Decided on what you want? Although I suppose I don't have too much of a fancy selection here.

[Basic goods only, instead of fancy dessert.]

Name's Angeal, by the way.

Well, shit. When Themis straightens up, Angeal takes that opportunity to lean closer and wipe away some more dust from his face with his hand. "Same project that I was doing back in the sim," he says, brow furrowed a bit as he makes sure nothing more is on Themis's face.

"May as well get Annie's Bakes started up again, even if it won't be as fancy as it had a chance to be when food was all technically fake." And they could just spend time making whatever they liked, with how few people were really in the simulation.

Different story here, where it's really going to matter that he get some good plain bread out in people's hands.

"Talked to Charlie about what it would take to start up a bakery here, and apparently that was all it took for him to help me get this place started up. I'll be getting some flour and such in a little while."

You don’t have paint money? You got a whole bakery, though!

[She feels like if he can set up this whole place he should have had the money for paints at some point, and besides, if he has a business he can make paint money. Conveniently, this is where she comes in. Angeal’s selection may not be as extensive as a metropolitan bakery, but good bread is good bread and she's not complaining.]

I’m Absinthe! I was wondering what your prices are. And what you might be looking for, cus’, y’know, not a lot of coins going around here. [At least for now, Town seems to be more of a barter or goodwill-based economy, which has its pros and cons.] What if I found someone who could trade paints for some of your bread, would that work?

Yeah, because Charlie decided he wants to be helpful. Found me a place and is letting me work things out.

[Which is a lot more good than some other gods, probably, although Angeal has to admit that this is mostly because his experience with gods is pretty minimal. Doesn't really matter. For now, Angeal just leans against the doorframe and lets her make her spiel.]

If you could find me some paint for a bit of bread, I'll even through in some pies along with whatever you were looking for, frankly, because that would be a pretty impressive trick. So long as you like pears and apples, anyway.

"Yeah, they do that," Angeal says fondly, fully aware of the evil alignment of chickens. "But unfortunately for you, they are going to be free range. But that's exactly why I'm doing this." He jostles the rooster from its place in his arms.

This earns a loud little demonic bird noise of protest, and frantic scratching from its tiny little feet and spurs. He's not going to pretend it doesn't sting like a motherfucker, but he doesn't let go regardless. The other scratch marks on his arms are a testament to that.

"And he'll need to know how to get home anyway, so taking him out on town is good."

He looks around and gives his report. "Front room has multiple points of entry to defend. Windows are highly suspect. I see four points where the glass is impure or cracked that could be used for easy breakage. Counter does not look reinforced enough to use as a barricade or shield. Back room is more defensible. Window is smaller, door sturdier, though entry door from the front room needs replaced."

It's the most words pretty much anyone has gotten out of him at one time. It feels weird. But he'd asked his thoughts, and most of his thoughts are tactical.

The future mythical hero of courage yelps and leaps back from a potential horrific birdmauling.

"I wouldn't want that thing knowing where I live. Close your windows overnight, big fella."

"We're going to be hitting winter soon, of course I'm keeping them closed." Yes, he knows that wasn't what this guy meant.

"Anyway, that's why it's even more important to have them know where to go. I'll be counting on some of these guys and gals to keep rodents out of our house over the winter, you know."

Yeah, that really is the sort of report he would expect from someone like this. Angeal isn't wholly surprised, but it is still sort of disappointing... Disappointing in the way of hearing a story has a sad ending more than anything else.

None of the shows on his face. He just nods, taking it into consideration. "Yeah, I noticed the window problems as well. I'm hoping that, before winter rolls around proper, I can get the glass replaced one way or another. Which is going to be the tricky thing, really..." Glass is kind of a hot commodity, in times like these, but he'll make it work.

"Although, how likely do you think it is for a bakery to get attacked like that?"

Popp starts oozing closer again because he's embarrassed about his incredibly legitimate tactical retreat.

"Right, mice and so on. Don't they have cats where you come from?"

"Oh, I don't know," offers Ardyn, unhelpfully. "What better way to test us than to plop us into homesteading right before a harsh winter?" He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. While these dragons aren't deities, he's still inclined to believe some of them at least may be assholes just trying to make their lives more difficult than they already are.

"You seem like the capable sort though already. I'm sure you'll do just fine with... whatever it is you're doing." He should know, he thinks. He used to do something like this, maybe. It bothers him a little that he can't remember but all the memories he is pulling up about preparing for winter aren't his anymore.

[Tough bargain, asking her to deliver the paints directly instead of just finding someone who has it. But throwing in the extra pies balances it out, and though she grumbles at Angeal’s counteroffer, the way her tail switches at the mention of pies perhaps gives it away that she doesn’t mind fruit pies at all.]

I can take a crack at it!

[Her confidence is short lived; as she looks over the rooftops and to the sun hanging low in the sky. She can talk a good game, but she's also smart enough to start seriously thinking about what it's going take to accomplish this before she goes rushing out the door. If she wants the pies today, she only has a few hours before the shops close.]

Well… is this offer still valid tomorrow, or is it a today-only thing? Best time to hit the shops is in the morning, unless you're on a time crunch.

[If Angeal insists, she'll still take a shot at it, though. She's already thinking of a couple places to try, a couple offers to pitch.]

"I bombed a bakery once," the asset answers, matter-of-fact, and though he can't remember the details, he's pretty sure it's true. He doesn't know why, or when, but it feels true to him so he's going to assume it is. "And we know nothing of the threats here besides a missing dragon god."

So hey. It's as likely as not, right?

It's fascinating, what you learn about people sometimes.

"I think if we're talking about this bakery getting bombed, then repairing the windows won't do it much good on that front," he says, still conversational like this is just a normal thing to chat about. "I'll focus on the basics of just making it look presentable for now."

Speaking of which... "How do you feel about baking?"

[Oh, good. There's a little bit of thinking in that skull of hers. Angeal chuckles, making sure the sign is propped up properly against the wall before he dusts off his pants.]

You can give it a shot tomorrow if you want. That'd give me more time to make a proper pie anyway, get it all nice and fancy looking. Even if I don't have all the supplies I'm used to, I can still do that much with a pie.

[And he'd like to still do some fun little things with baking besides just the bare essentials. Liven up their lives a little.]

But for tonight, it's just bread, right? Bringing it home to anyone else, or is it just you?

Ah yes, the world's most unhelpful hobo. Angeal at least is used to worthless commentary, because his own husband is even worse in this regard. "That's assuming some testing is going on in the first place," he says mildly. "Don't assume malice when there's always incompetence." Or, you know, not giving a fuck about the situation you put other people in, at the very least. Simple selfishness is its own thing.

Which is still assuming a whole lot about their own situation, Angeal has to admit... His first sentence still stands more than anything else.

Although you know what, while this guy is standing around doing nothing... Angeal pauses, looking Ardyn over. "Hey, why don't you follow me, since you seem so interested in what I'm doing?" he asks casually.

Angeal lets Popp take his time for as long as he needs. Frankly, in some ways, this is also good for his rooster to experience... for all that the little hellion is indicating murderous intent with his beady bird eyes.

"We have cats, but chickens are more prone to immediate violence," he says, simple and matter of fact.

So, you know.

There's that.

"Anyway, if anything, I'm more of a dog person... but for right now, with just a small thing going on, focusing on the chickens is the better play. The rooster and a couple of friends will be guards enough, and a hen in the house can deal with the mice. Efficiency over everything else, since we're going to be hitting cold months any time now." Still, he sighs wistfully. "Although if you come across a dog who could use a home, let me know..."

True. Glass in the windows won't do much against an explosive. Though the glass they have here is old fashioned and thick, and less likely to shatter in the same way as glass he's more used to. It might break, but into larger chunks... interesting to consider.

The question brings him up short from his contemplation of thick-glass breaking points and he stares a little in Angeal's general direction. "I do not feel anything about baking," he finally says, which is not entirely true, the idea of it brings a mix of fear, confusion, and nostalgia. He knows the smell of baking bread from somewhere. But he can say with some certainty: "I do not know how to bake."

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01 - Bake a Pretty Cake (ota)

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