adregem | 000 - voidtreckerexpress Universal Contact Post

( YOU'RE NOT HIS DAD ROLAND. )

Tidus hums to Roland's initially questioning for confirmation, little finger in his mouth, the sauce now sucked off. Uses the back of the spoon spontaneously provided for no reason to transfer the tomato sauce from its bowl and onto the flat dough discs, spreading it out. His ears listening out when Roland speaks.

"You don't want to?" Why skirt around his meaning than just say it? If Roland knows it's in there, then that's not the obvious problem. It's forgetting what you have in there. But he does ask, with more thoughtfulness to it, sprinkling a handful of the peppers over the two prepared pizzas:

"You got other pictures on there?"

(Just use a serving teaspoon for things that might spoil fast!!!)

"...I don't remember, if I'm going to be honest with you." The pancake is flipped in the pan, and it's looking a little bit better than the first pass, cooling on the plate next to him. The heat is cranked up a bit again, his spatula just moving wayward pieces around in the browned butter. If Tidus meant incriminating pictures, then that would be a clear no.

"And it's not because I don't want to. I just..." But really, was it? The phone put on the very back of his mind since it was useless in the second world, then suddenly finding relevance as they discussed the pasts, where their fates might intertwine. Of letting go little by little, acceptance of their lives then, and how they had to move forward now. Maybe Roland just didn't want a reminder, constantly weighing down on his back pocket - the phone his constant companion on every trip, on every job. Not pictures, but messages, an inbox, emails, papers, scripts...Not Roland the Chief Consul, or Roland the Voidtrecker. Roland the president.

He takes the pancake out of the pan, puts it on top of the first piece, and the pan is removed from the heat for now. An intermission. He grows quiet again, closing his eyes and feeling his breath, in and out, in and out. It's not for anything, he reminds himself. It's just for a photo. Just to see; a mirror back into a past that had no magic, no soulmates, no void trains and all.

His right hand opens, palm facing ceiling, and he thinks harder. The year, the model, attempts to remember its shape and its color. Goes back to the first memory of holding it in an alien land, then again when he receives his first Arms Band. There - that's it, that's what it latches on too. Gold sparkle, familiar and true, successfully summoning what he didn't think to ever use again.

A modern day cellphone, scratches on the back, a slightly cracked screen but nothing too damaging. Roland is in slight awe, leaning back against the counter as the device is studied like a foreign object.

A little cheese is added, sliced mushrooms and the block of billy bear meat brought to the side to dice that, all the previous lot chopped up already added to Roland's rice. They'll need more, and it's getting a knife into that atop one of the cutting boards that Tidus notices the break that Roland's taken. He cuts into as much of the meat he thinks he'll need, cuts some way into it - but he's admittedly distracted. Taking glimpses at Roland, how long he's actually taking. Maybe he was being serious when he said he wasn't sure he could recall it.

And he starts to grow concerned, 'Roland?' on the end of his tongue when finally - the familiar glitter and gold, and there's something in his hand. Small and... thick? Thick for a data-tablet, even a phone! And from his section of the kitchen he stares, quizzical, unable to tell much about it from where he is, but-

"That's your...data-tablet?"

Why does it look like a brick.

Roland shoots Tidus a strange look, eyebrow quirked up as the phone is held up for him to study himself. "Yeah...Wait, what do they look like in your place? Is it a lot different than what I was expecting?" Not really too aware that Zanarkand was in fact, much more advanced in technology than Earth was despite being thousands of years - worlds, even - apart. Still, there's some recognition there so it's not a complete loss in translation.

He'll glance at the pizzas being assembled as his fingers find the indent in the side of the phone. A hard press to the button, a futile effort really, but it's something he wants to see for himself. He does this all the while watching more meat being cut, peppers and mushrooms being put on top of the meals. Roland's itching to ask who they're making it for, are they leaving it out for the train, but honestly he wanted pancakes for sentimental reasons. Who was he to judge? "Ever heard of pineapples on pizza?" Roland adds to the lull in the conversation, seeing as how many toppings were coming onto the board. He'll give up trying to understand the ebb and flow of this cooking session - not really caring anyhow. The company, the skill demonstration; it makes him happy to be a part of it.

The phone in his hand remains unlit and defunct. He shrugs and pockets it out of habit. "It's out of juice, so I'll charge it one of these days and show you. I'm pretty sure the pictures I kept here are still intact." And with that, the matter is sort of settled, Roland's conflicting feelings about finding what can be considered a relic at this point buried back beneath the activity, the hustle and bustle of making more food together. He won't return to the pancake station right away, assessing what he's made with a keen eye.

Eventually, Roland will clear his throat and show Tidus both pieces from the plate, like an exhibition. One was more well put together than the other, but overall, seemed amateurish at best.

"You said the Ronso are kind of like cats too, right? Any resemblance here?" Ah. Good attempts, though he may have given each too many emphasized feline features. And the fact that he's got nothing but his imagination to guide the pancake art...Yet Roland is compelled to try anyway. They can maybe taste it after the judging.

"Well, they're like..."

Wow, way to ask a question with too many questions. He raises his hand with the SCA.

"Some of them are just a wristband like this? Or you can install a pen to it, or an earpiece? Or even a ring version. And you just use whichever one and boot it up front of you."

He makes the shape of a square, a rectangle - is Roland getting the idea at all? And there's so many questions about how Roland's own data-tablet apparently works, but asks the question first while he finishes off with the bear meat.

"Pineapple? Uhhh... no? What's a pineapple?"

He doesn't know, Rol.

Tidus comes over however, with the two pizzas carefully plopped onto trays, ready to be put into the oven (along with the wraps themselves left bare), and Tidus looks at the -- faces? Yeah, faces, an astonished scoff leaving him before Roland even speaks.

"Uhhh... dunno. Not quite as chocolate-y around the face?" He grins, then, to carry it on: "Are you gonna eat your King Evan, Roland?"

And in the oven the trays can go, to cook off what are hopefully their successful attempts at wraps and pizzas.

Well, it's not hard to imagine that kind of tech existing in his world either - where mobile phones were linked to wristwatches and the like. If he's not mistaken, a lot of his counsel wore them too, bluetooth technology and all of that jazz? It's the ring version that gets him to make a face, imagining it and how convenient that would be. Perhaps it would be holographic tech then; how else would you call and type on it?

The pineapple bit though, receives not so much an incredulous look, but a shrug of one shoulder, an understanding that Spira just was not quite like Earth. In some ways similar, in other ways not. "It's a fruit. Sweet, tart, and yellow. Caused quite an uproar back home because some people liked it as a topping on their pizzas. Jury's still out if I'm a fan or not, though."

He sets the plate of pancakes down as the oven is put to use, and tears off an ear. He raises his eyebrows once as he eats, a sign of a challenge received, and chews a little more dramatically than is expected. A slight smirk resting on his lips, amused. "He'll understand. The needs of the people demand a taste test." He holds back a cough right after, and what might be the start of a laugh as he looks away, covering his mouth.

"...I can't believe I've still got it." Roland says, tearing off the second ear and offering it to Tidus. "It's just as bad as I remember it."

Too little sugar, which one might think the chocolate offsets, but the salt and the flour ratio was not doing it any favors either way. Now if this was a bowl of cereal...

...Did Roland really just pull an Earth injoke on him? Tidus blinks at his answer, mumbling in confirmation, but also realising there was an attempt to drag him into something he didn't get. Should he ask if there's any pineapples on board? Does he want to?? Please, Mister President!

He's got the non-pizzafied wraps to stick on the heat though, and with those still on their own tray, Roland fiddling with his pancakes, Tidus takes a second to make the transfer into the secondary frying pan not used for the chocolate, savoury treat. The cough of a laugh getting him to look over, between Roland and the grimmelkin...? now without an ear.

Two ears, with the second offered to him. He takes it, but eyes it and Roland.

"That's supposed to get me to eat it." Does he really dare? Really?

...

...

…of course he's doing it, he's holding it, he can't resist!

"Ugh!"

And there goes Tidus's face, scrunching in on itself, the back of his wrist covering his mouth as he chews. Barely.

"That's rank! Did you forget the sugar?! Ugghhhh-"

Does he have to swallow this?!

See, it's that reaction in particular, and the fact that Roland is already processing the aftertaste that gets him to laugh completely. It's softer than his chuckle surprisingly, and is the lightest his felt in a while. The only other time he's laughed, during the Purple mixer, but that was a lifetime and a half ago at this point. He turns his face away, eventually sounds reverting to silence. Lasting for a couple of seconds before he wipes his hand down on his apron, facing Tidus again as the final remains of the pancake is swallowed.

"Such honesty. Thanks for not...sugar-coating it." He shakes his head, and goes in for another piece??? Or just the crumbs left on the plate right now, nibbling on more chocolate than the actual pancake itself. How could the butter on the frying pan fail him too? The mystery continues.

"I always forget one or two ingredients with this. One time, I forgot baking soda, so the pancake just looked like the wraps we're making now. It never bubbled or raised." He shakes his head. Maybe the second pancake tasted better? Sorry for tearing your jaw off, Mr. Ronso! This one is eaten too, but it's really no better. Only more chocolate on it, melted and the last saving grace to a failed batter. "The other time, I forgot flour altogether and used cornstarch. It was a complete disaster."

See what we mean here! For someone so good at keeping track of things and listing down when he can, Roland's ultra-focused attitude makes him prone to kitchen mistakes. Plus, a lack of overall experience, unlike Tidus who had developed some form of intuition for cooking even as he freestyled recipes.

He's actually eating another piece!! Which isn't that surprising, he's sure eaten some lacklustre recipe results, but that isn't going to stop Tidus from suggesting- "You don't wanna pour sugar on that first? How about some syrup."

Anything to give it a taste other than blergh.

But Roland can be happy to know Tidus didn't spit out his bite, indeed swallowing it. Next to him the wraps start to heat up, quiet as it cooks.

"I think I'm going straight to the council to ban you from the kitchen. From cooking ever again. That's got to be a crime." He gestures over to the pancake. "I mean, you didn't even get it to stick! That's usually the hardest part about a pancake."

Ugh, and worst of all- "I even let you waste my chocolate on it."

Just lock this guy up now.

"Hey, the chocolate and candy is always the finishing touch!" He says in mock offense, a finger pointed at his direction, not quite wagging but it's the play-acting that makes it obvious. "In fact, it's so integral to the Crane family recipe that it's the only parts Will eats when he can't pretend to like it anymore."

He can't believe his son knew how to lie at such a young age - but maybe that was the fun of it all? The fondness was there, before the worst of times came. That's what he clung to. He takes the bowl of the batter, halfway done now, thankfully the ratio just right that he didn't waste too much of the dry ingredients, and motions at it while they watch the wraps continue to cook.

"You think you can help me fix this before you ask our local politicians to ban me from this place? Come on, you're a pro here too, right?" Roland offers it up again, with both hands around the body of the bowl like he's asking for a treat. Tidus was a multitasking fiend in this kitchen, don't tell him he won't do it while the wraps were being done too!

"And pass up seeing you in the slammer for your crimes?" He's taking the bowl as he says it, not worried about the wraps - all they need is the heat and to be turned over now and then. "I'm doing this for the pancakes. Not you. Never ask me for chocolate again."

And with such a severe-toned statement given, Tidus walks over to where they've left the sugar, winging how much they'll need to safe the mix. But he has a vague idea of what pancakes usually take, isn't afraid to get some stuck in there and then whisk it together, rattling the sides of the bowl as he walks back over to the stove and Roland.

"Will'll thank me one day. I'm gonna get you a book on pancakes. Nothing but pancakes."

A pause.

"Well, and brownies too. And cookies."

"...I didn't know you felt so strongly about seeing me chained up behind bars, Tidus." Roland quips sarcastically, but allowing Tidus full reign on rectifying the recipe. It's all in his hands now - and goodness, was it right to add that much sugar to pancakes? Was that what Roland was missing all along? A heavy hand on sugary treats? For shame.

"Maybe baking might fare better with me. It's an exact science, right? Can't go wrong when you follow the steps and measure correctly." Which is where the spirit of cooking lacks, at least for him and all the little ad libs Tidus is so comfortable doing that Roland has forgotten about his own habit of taking down notes for later reading. Forgotten that as they began this whole thing, he was already itching to measure everything from the start.

"At least take back what you said about the chocolate." Roland stifles a chuckle, and turns his attention to the wraps while they switch places. Heated just right, so he transfers it out for another cold one. Motions for the dough - the focaccia - with a tilt of his chin. That one's ready, thereabouts? "I'm in such a sorry state of finances that I can't even afford the common candy treat at the store." Pity him. Woe is the broke president.

Stop being a stiff about the sugar, Roland!!

The pancake mix is quick and easy to stir, and with it looking about ready, Tidus gives some grease to the pan for it. Bowl set down to the side, while he uses a ladle to pour out the batter into the pan waiting, stirring it around to make it into a circular shape.

He gives Roland a quick 'in a sec' regarding the bread dough, while he checks out this pancake. A small snort as the man continues on with the dramatics of a pointless soul.

"You got a spending problem there, pal? There's people who like to buy-buy-buy... you need someone to take away your ticket from you? Maybe I'll..."

He hums, watching as the pancake begins to form a body, the liquid gone.

"...give you it back, at bed times. Then you have to give it to me for the rest of the day."

Is this a new type of jail? Also, watch Tidus get ready for a cool flip--!!!

--and make his pancake fold in half. GUH. Nearly!! Let's just straighten that out...!

He reaches for the dough ball anyway, just so it's closer to them now. The texture ultimately changed, now softer and more airy, done with its first rise. Not that Roland would know if took more than one rise to get bread to a perfect consistency when baked, but for now it's there and Tidus has easy access to his focaccia in the making.

This would also be quite the perfect time to scoff at Tidus's similar antics, but he's not the type to go that far. Instead, Roland just replies with a tinge of amusement, a loud breath exhaled. "Did you just threaten to ground me?" Who's the old man, now??? "Funny."

Roland's words aren't as sarcastic as they were intended to be though, because when he has that window, he stares at the first attempt to do a flip. Then the second, if it comes right after. Tidus isn't quite doing it like the cartoons, pancakes flipped into half-crescents instead.

"...That's cheating, by the way." He remarks. Can't straighten them out like that, dude! Do it right!!

Someone is being more impatient than Tidus with that dough!! But it'll be good there, once Tidus finishes fiddling with this pancake and Roland's unwelcomed remarks, a small pah at the criticism.

"What? I need to straighten it before I try again! It's not as easy as it looks on media, you know. I cook with rice and noodles!"

Listen as one excuse after another comes out. But now Tidus is really going to try for it -- removing the pan from the heat and backing up, shuffling the pancake around in the pan as it is, posed and building up to his great flip. He's gonna do it! He's got it! "One, two....!!"

And--!

FLIPNooooo it's hanging off the side, rattle it back in, get in the pan, pancake!!! Ugh, there's a tear now!

"Eerrghh I'm just outta practice! This is good for a warm up!"

Please let him keep his pride Roland.

Roland has precisely the comeback for this, his expression steady but his eyes gleaming with amusement. In fact, he pulls a pretty good straight-laced look as he gives him space to do the next flip. Keeps focused on the effort, and when it falls back down, ruining this particular pancake with the oozed chocolate nearly cracked out of the edge as he scrambles to return it, Roland just hums and watches Tidus make it for third time's the charm.

Except he'll cross his arms, leaning just a little. Won't let his face break, but his voice dips into mock seriousness. "Performance issues, huh?"

Got him. Payback, complete!!

Edited 2020-11-05 15:26 (UTC)

"Wha?" Tidus says obliviously, fixing up the pancake. "This is just a--"

But then, he stops. He pauses with the pan in hand, the realisation dawning on him. And then he gets it, with the heat rushing up his face.

And Tidus shoves Roland hard with his free hand, accidentally slamming the frying pan harder on the stove than he means to at the same time. "No one asked you! You wanna get into your performance issues, gramps?! Go and knead the bread dough! Go be actually useful! Ugh! Stupid...!"

Don't mind as Tidus just ~~tsuns~~ fumes over this pancake so he can get it put on the plate and he can work on the next one. WITHOUT ANY ISSUES. BECAUSE HE HAS NONE.

He deserves an award for how he continues to keep his concerned yet unmoving expression despite the force of Tidus's shove, and that he clatter of the frying pan was loud enough to wake someone up from their sleep. Inwardly however, Roland could have been in stitches. Bet you didn't expect that, eh?

Roland shrugs lightly, as if encouraging Tidus (????) Goes for the bread dough and does what he's told to do, removing whatever it's covered in for the rise and sinking the warm of his palms straight into it. Air bubbles hissing out, deflating in his touch before he starts moving his arms, using his whole body to knead. Practiced from the ramen making, and that was dough he definitely needed to work and rework consistently.

Look at him go at it with the pancakes. Roland composes himself before speaking again, retaining that mock of concern.

"Hey, listen." He says, a tilt of his head towards Tidus's station by the pans and stove. "This stuff isn't as easy as it looks, y'know? Don't beat yourself up for flipping the pancake too early!" A nod to emphasize that it's normal, Tidus. Don't worry about it. Try again!! Pancake Flipping needs time and experience! Roland turns away, pretending to wipe his nose against his opposite shoulder when in fact, he's actually grinning. No wonder Tidus likes poking fun at Roland all the time.

TIDUS IS NOT FLIPPING ANOTHER SINGLE PANCAKE ON THIS DAY. Not in front of Roland, anyway. Not unless he's up tonight (whatever night is) and decides to do some pancake practice...! Instead, he's going to aggressively make these pancakes, the new batter being swirled around to make its circle with a delicacy that isn't present in any other part of Tidus. He has a face that even a chisel couldn't break into.

"Didn't flip it earlier than you usually finish." Hah!! We're going straight to the impotency jokes here, old guy!! "You wouldn't know if anything works from being such a bore."

He tears into a small edge of the previously made pancake it taste test it, perhaps a little too late with his other one already in. It's not bad, if bland, but Tidus can fix that with some sauce added after the fact. Returns to the pancake already starting to cook on one side.

~~Look out, train. Tidus is burning the midnight oil for pancake flipping and you're not going to stop him.~~

"...?!"

Roland...actually chokes on his own spit at such a remark, a little to crass for what he expected. But then again, he realizes he may have brought this upon himself, so he coughs into his shoulder, leaning away from his work station. He clears his throat quickly, retaining as much composure as he is able without it looking like he's trying too hard.

"Hm." That frog in his throat better get the heck outta there. Roland kneads further into the focaccia dough. "You'd be surprised. I've gotten pretty good at collecting information throughout the years. How's that for being a bore?" Yes, word it exactly like that to reinforce the idea he's absolutely bookish. But it is as he mentioned to Evan too, way back then; if Roland really turned back the clock and came in both body and mind as he was at twenty, they wouldn't be having this conversation at all. Older Roland would never want to meet his younger self, and that's a fact.

He glimpses at the taste test and offers out a palm, never mind that his hands are already sticky with uncooked dough. He's being a rebel.

"I sure hope you're planning on sharing all this food with today's dinner crowd. Blue's going to thank us for doing half the work, heh. Maybe they can pay us in points."

You're talking to a healthy young ~~teen~~ adult, Roland. You did this to yourself.

"Wow, you read in your youth. So fun." As fun as Tidus's dry delivery, but he gives Roland a piece of the pancake, despite the question of whether the guy deserves it or not. Well, it's his pancake mix saved...

"You wish you were getting paid for any of this. I'm saving it! The bread's for Taiki to see if he likes, and if he does, I'll make something to go with it. Then the wraps--" which oh, right, the wraps, let him turn this one over quick! "--are gonna be stuffed with some ideas from the book! I'll save them for him!"

Meaning, Blue can do whatever Blue wants to do.

"You can have one of the pizzas if you want."

...It's a whole lot better than his first batch, that's for sure. So this time, it's not so much of a hassle to swallow it down. Roland even makes a face of approval, despite the exorbitant amounts of sugar Tidus added to make it taste decent. (Or he really just didn't add enough!)

"Oh yeah? Then I better make sure it's kneaded well. Did he like the berries you got for him?" Roland remembers their berry harvesting trip, though it's been a little while back now. But he made his own jam with the berries he picked with Gyousou, and that memory turns easy to what they're doing now. He'll continue to knead, asking under his breath - "Do I cut into this now? How do you want to fold the shape?" - while Roland affirms that Blue can, indeed, make dinner for the rest of the train as they were assigned to do. Sorry if they ran out of flour, maybe they can stick with rice and pasta?

Roland eventually finds himself washing his hands, done with the task of whatever Tidus has put him to work. Another ball of dough may be sitting pretty there, and there's still the matter of putting the dips into the right jars and containers for later. He's not particularly hungry when Tidus tells him about the pizzas, but the smell wafting out of the oven is nothing but enticing to induce a little rumble from his stomach. Why not?

"Thanks. Don't mind if I do, then." He straightens up from the sink and wipes his hands on his apron. A casual smile on his face as the pizza finishes off, and he's already getting ready with a serving plate and a knife. "Can't believe I'm eating pizza straight from the ace himself." That could come across as a jab, but it's also very Roland to be honest about it regardless if it was a joke or not. He is quite intrigued on the taste, wanting to put Tidus's freestyle in the kitchen to his own test.

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