childrenofbahamutlogs | [winter catch all] Ignis

“Man,” Absinthe sighs at the reminder that selfcare is something she needs to put effort into, having crawled out of the Faerunian countryside less than a year ago into the big city. “I’ll look into it.”

Ignis’ demonstration is a welcome distraction from the talk of claw care. Absinthe doesn’t comment on his proficiency- it’s unsurprising to her that he would be practiced, and she’s doing the same by coming here as well. By the time Ignis is done she lets out a hum of recognition now that the onions have been chopped into the form she recognises in her food. “Aaah. I didn’t realise these were onions as well. Yeah, let me try!”

Absinthe holds up her dagger (it’s fineeee, she hasn’t used it to stab anything recently) and wipes it on a cloth before reaching out to slide the onion and cutting board over. She’s a quick learner when applying herself- the problem is applying herself- so, having paid attention to Ignis’ hand placement and the size of the cut onions, she begins imitating his motions with curled fingers in one hand and chopping knife in the other.

"Look into it the moment you leave this house," are the final words before she gets to cutting. Just to be sure she knows. He refuses to accept subpar nail care in his kitchen.

Still, he doesn't hound on her much after that. Instead, he says politely and carefully to the side in order to give her all the room she might need, just to be comfortable. With how they're all developing tails and wings (his wings more than his tail at present), that's all the more important to keep in mind. And he has to say he's quite impressed.

Of course she had shown considerable dexterity with her knives back at the party. Ignis had seen that with his own eyes; he doesn't doubt her skill in that arena. But just because someone is good at juggling a knife or doing fancy tricks doesn't necessarily mean that they'll be good at kitchen work.

It's a wonderful sign to see her catching on quickly here. "Excellently done," he praises. "Very clean cuts." While it's not the only important part to cooking, especially in a situation like this where they can't simply shove things into a modern oven or crockpot and call it a day, it's still nothing to sneeze at. "Those will fold in excellently for the recipe I had in mind for them. Would you like to practice on another one, just in case?"

Absinthe would preen at Ignis' praise if that was the only thing he gave throughout the attempt; but he's also given her instructions like he's her boss, so now the vibes are quite off. She gives him a sideways glance as she sweeps the onion bits into a little pile like she'd seen Ignis do.

“You're not my boss, so you're gonna have to pay me to do the nail thing so fast. But I will cut up more onions if you've got them.”

She doesn't even know he offed Ardyn once, so he's just some young-looking guy who's trying to take on more authority than he's owed.

If Ignis has his way, very few people will ever get to know about the fact that he murdered Ardyn and buried his corpse (for all the good that did in the end), so this suits him just fine. All he does is make a small huff, which probably only reinforces the sulky nerd image.

"It's sanitary," he tries to insist, although at least he's not making any further orders on that matter. Still, he does oblige by getting another spring onion out from the bag for her practice.

"Even if we are all turning into dragons, that doesn't mean we're immune to things like sickness, or things slipping into our food..."

She looks at him a second longer than necessary- suggesting perhaps she might not actually know what the word means and is bluffing- before huffing, making no further comment. Not because she doesn’t know exactly what “sanitary” means, nooo.

As Absinthe accepts the new onion and begins to chop, she decides to follow up instead with: “There’s a guy in town who says he can eat raw meat and not get sick, did you know? People are wild.”

That look is certainly noted, but Ignis at least doesn't say anything right away. Instead, he busies himself about in the rest of the kitchen as he prepares what little else is required for the dish he had in mind. The change in subject is definitely allowed without any protest or attempts to pull it back.

"Hm, that's not surprising. A lot of different types were pulled in. Some have different digestive systems even before dragons became involved, or others can't get sick..."

Or, if they're Ardyn, they're immortal and hate themselves enough to not care about the temporary discomfort...

"But I think I would still prefer cooking in the end. It makes the food far nicer, and that can make yourself and those you care about happier." He looks to her. "Do you like omelets, now that I am thinking on it?"

[winter catch all] Ignis

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