The Death of All Good Things (Sylvarin is Searched!)

Xanadu Weyr - Kitchens
The kitchen is large and well-stocked with technology as well as those with culinary skill. State of the art equipment has been brought in from the various crafts to be used - stoves and large ovens replacing the hearths that used to be in here. Three baking ovens are usually going full bore half the day, from early morning through to mid-afternoon. Large windows take up the entire of the western wall, generally open wide to the mountainous landscape beyond allowing the cool breezes in to keep the kitchen's temperature to a desirable level.
Tables, cabinets, and counters take up the remaining spaces and walls. Various spices, herbs, and other foodstuffs are found here, and what's not ready at hand is tucked away back in the storage caverns or the massive cold-room large enough to walk inside.
The night hearth beside the door to the main caverns has been kept out of a sense of nostalgia, but the smaller stove set beside it is what's actually used to prepare late-night food. This is where you find late night meals of stew and soup simmering in pots, and pitchers of klah and tea in their electric units to be kept warm.

Morning wanes on at Xanadu and the early bustle of the kitchen seems to have finally died down somewhat. Most of the dishes from the AM rush have been cleaned and dried and it's that quiet lull before prep for the midday meal begins. Of course, there are some people that don't quite stick to the usual schedules (aka Slyvarin). The man is apparently in the middle of some experimenting because what better time to make weird things when people aren't around? The baker is in his usual waist-apron as well as pants and a shirt with the sleeve rolled up to the elbows. His thick black locks have been pushed back by a thin hairband that's dark gray in color and frankly makes him look kind of funny. In front of him are things that should /probably/ not be in desserts and some things that should. Is that a basket of chilis? Yes. And next to it is some pureed red fruit and tiny undecorated cakes that look green…for whatever reason! He's currently concentrating on shaping some chili slices into tiny flowers…how cute!

More like HOW POSITIVELY DIABOLICAL. But Sylvarin is not the only one who is seeking refuge in the relative quiet of the kitchens because HERE COMES RISALI, going as fast as she possibly can with the handicap of a crutch and one wrapped foot that seems to refuse supporting any weight as she goes. Her face looks a little roughed up too - some bruising around an eye and the bridge of her nose, a split lip; all those things that tell a story without painting a clear picture. IRRELEVANT. Relevant is Risali coming through those doors like prey escaping the fatal chase of a predator, throwing the door closed (with some difficulty) and leaning back on it for just a moment while lungs relearn how to breathe. One, two, three, and those grey eyes rise up to fall on Sylvarin, settle there for a moment before she brings a finger to her lips in the universal sign for SILENCE, and then sloooowly she moves to crutch herself closer to him. "What's this?" she whispers, like she might be heard THROUGH THE CLOSED DOOR AND HALFWAY ACROSS THE WEYR. "Actually, it's probably safer if you don't answer that." And if Sylvarin doesn't stop her, she absolutely is going to dip her finger into that pureed redfruit for a taste.

Sylvarin's attention abruptly shifts to the newly arrived Risali and he pauses with a knife and pepper in hand. Eyebrows raise slightly for her not-so-sneakiness but he does eventually nod when she brings the finger to his lips. He's also definitely staring rudely as she hobbles her way over and winces at all the wounds. "Man, both you and Ness really do look like sh-," it's at this moment he decides maybe censoring is in order, "shelters came crashing down on you." Because that makes /no/ sense but whatever. He doesn't make a move to stop her when she goes after the redfruit puree, but instead gestures towards the small cakes. "New creations, should try it in between a couple layers of that." /Completely/ innocent suggestion because there is /nothing/ wrong with the cakes and all their green-color. And when she tastes that puree she /might/ notice a not entirely pleasant little kick of spice to it all. Apparently the peppers weren't just for decoration!

The look that Risali gives Sylvarin dares him to finish that sentence, but when he switches tracks at the last possible second and continues with things that don't make sense, there's a wicked curve to the goldrider's lips that she regrets immediately. It fades under a wince, and then a bump of shoulder into the baker because shut up, Sylvarin as she goes about and PILFERS TASTES. She should have guessed there was something not right when he let her test without fight (actually she's not sure, this statement is probably as inaccurate as her current judgement of Terrible Ideas), because that spice kicks in and Risali freezes. A beat, two, three, four, her mouth coming open with her tongue sticking out (as if this might ease that momentary burn), and then she's issuing a tongue-garbled, "I hate you," that comes out more like, "Uh hay ew." She doesn't, actually, because it's not so bad, just UNEXPECTED, and once her tongue is back in her mouth, those grey eyes find him again with brows slightly raised as she points to those SUSPICIOUS CAKES. "But why are they green, though." LOOK INTO HER EYES. TELL HER THE TRUTH, BAKER BOY.

Dragons might not eat people but Sylvarin is /still/ pretty sure that Leirith will somehow end his life with her digestive juices one day if he gets on Risali's wrong side one day! He's /about/ to try and backtrack a bit more with some random compliment about her hair (because that's safe-ish) but instead stops at the shoulder bump. Yeahhhh, foot will not be put into mouth today, hopefully! For all that thinking going on there's some silence until the poor Weyrwoman's assaulted by the taste of pepper and now the baker can't help but laugh. "It's just to help you wake up?" No one's buying that for a second. Especially when he looks positively delighted at her reaction. His green-blue eyes glint with mischief for a moment and perhaps even a bit of glee. And as for those suspicious cakes? "100% of that color is natural, it comes from plants." What plants? "What better way to get in your serving of vegetables than through dessert?" Yup, that is /not/ boding well at /all/. Spinach might be in there. And some seaweed. And other /things/.

Don't mind that ROLL OF HER EYES that definitely says she doesn't believe you (or that tug at the corner of her lips that just might suggest she thinks this is all horribly comical too), she was just trying to see if somebody emblazoned the word, 'Idiot,' across her forehead - honest! But there is a hiccup of laughter that escapes her, that dissipates when Sylvarin mentions vegetables in tandem with why those little cakes look suspiciously green and hisses a, "Sylvarin, you didn't," like he's about to commit murder. Which, let's be realistic here, he is. It's the death of delicious things, the downfall of desserts, the corruption of that delicate trust people place in bakers to DELIVER SWEETS DELICIOUSLY. But, well… Risali just wouldn't be Risali if she didn't see a cliff and jump from it, so she does just that. She gathers one of those cakes, puts a little bit of sauce on it, squishes it between another little cake, and then takes a bite out of it. See? What did I tell you? Totally inaccurate judgement call on terrible ideas. Hopefully this doesn't become their first meeting 2.0, in which Risali ended up throwing up every time she smelled or saw squid for like half a month.

Sylvarin's lips curl upwards in a smile and he looks altogether too smug when he replies, "I did, I very much did." He leans on the counter, head tilted slightly before looking pleasantly surprised when she actually moves to /try/ one of the cakes. It isn't quite as bad as the whole squid debacle, but the more she chews the more like grass it will probably taste. Or what one would imagine grass tastes like. "What better way to stay healthy? I was thinking of dropping these off to the nursery." Because why /not/ food poison a bunch of children? And half of the population at dinner tonight! "I haven't made the frosting yet but I was going to infuse it with some lavender extract, really just bring out the /nature/ in everything." Yeah, Mr. I Hate the Outdoors. "Honestly, I think I have the whole outdoors thing personified with this little dessert." The dude has /problems/.

Risali chews slowly, carefully, pausing as grey eyes jump back to Sylvarin as if she means to absorb his words by eyesight - or maybe like she isn't quite sure if she is LOOKING AT A HUMAN BEING OR SATAN. Then the comment about the nursery and — Satan. Definitely Satan. WELL NOT TODAY, SATAN. Risali swallows down her bite, fixates back on the cakes and mix in her hand as she turns it over in an attempt to extract secrets from it. How can something possibly taste so bad? "The outdoors, Sylvarin? No." NOT EVEN CLOSE. A little close, but it's much more (playfully) insulting to say, "I can't tell if I am alarmed or impressed that you somehow managed to capture what death tastes like in a dessert." A beat, as she looks closer and then gives a little jump of, 'Aha!', knocking her shoulder into Sylvarin as she leans her weight against him (BECAUSE HER FOOT IS MESSED UP, JUST TAKE IT) and holds his own creation of for him to see. "That's what you should name this, Sylv: The Death of All Good Things." That's what he should name ALL HIS TRICKSY PASTRIES, ACTUALLY. And look at Risa thinking she's just so clever if that wicked expression says anything, even as she takes another bite and then - nope. Nope. She spits that one out because she can't go through that again, right into one of those conveniently placed napkins. Eugh. "So what can I do to make that not happen, by the way? Dropping it off at the nursery, I mean. Or making it ever again." Because GROSS, SYLVARIN.

"No? But it so accurately depicts the desolation of all things good that you encounter when you walk into a field or garden." It's a work of /art/ Risali, come on now! "And when it's all decorated it'll look /nice/ just like nature does but then when they eat it they'll learn that everything is /not/ great and pretty and nice." Like nature. Apparently. It's logical in his mind! His eyes narrow slightly as the dessert is brought closer to him because he's /definitely/ not eating it but eventually lets out a short chuckle, "Death of All Things Good….now that /is/ an incredible name. No one will want to eat it though." And he has to enlighten them. ENGLIGHTEN. Really he is just doing this for everyone's benefit and /totally/ not for for his own amusement. "Well…I mean, you are /you/ so you could say no to the nursery and I guess I'd have to listen. But just now that you would be depriving them of a very good life lesson." And wouldn't that be tragic. "I do have something more normal if you want though." If she really wants. Is this a ploy?! Probably not. But it /could/ be. (Or not).

If Risali's expression says that she doesn't trust you, it's because she doesn't - but at least it's a playful look of disbelief, and not the, 'I'm about to use my authority to have you thrown from the weyr,' kind. And then she's laughing, ducking behind her still-dessert wielding hand and issuing a soft sound that's probably pain for the movement… but doesn't hinder her. She does punch him with her not-crutch-hindered hand in his upper arm though, gentle as she issues a half-laughed, "Shut up, Sylvarin." Because he is a ridiculous human being, and it needs addressing. Still, that raise of brows at his CONS to her name says, 'THAT'S THE POINT, SYLV,' and then she's shaking her head. "I do forbid you from delivering these to the nursery, but I will absolutely allow you to give them to the wings as a gift and reminder of what their lives have become. And to D'lei." Because she just wouldn't be a good weyrmate if she didn't ensure that both of her men suffer - K'vir with the wings, D'lei where she can watch him NOT AT ALL SUSPICIOUS LIKE from her desk with much glee. But here we go again, Sylvarin conjuring up more cliffs and Risali, unable to resist the thrill of that jump hesitating only a moment before she sets that grass-tasting grossness down and smiles (MUCH REGRET, OW) around a breath (and wince) of, "I'm intrigued. I'll bite." Literally.

"Fine fine, I'll just grace someone else with my wisdom!" Sylvarin holds up both hands in a surrender type fashion, which of course leaves him completely open for punching. Sure it was a gentle punch to the arm but the way he looks so completely wounded you'd think she stabbed him or something. "This is the reward I get for sharing knowledge!" He's /really/ bad at shutting up, in case that hasn't become abundantly clear. But his expression is clearing up almost immediately when she's giving him permission to delivery these monstrosities to the wings and D'lei. There's that broad smile from him again and his eyes dance with pure delight, "Now that is something you can /definitely/ count on." He's definitely just imagining horror on a mass of faces and there's clearly nothing better in this world! His glee is cut short though because when she says she'll try something else Sylvarin is heading towards the cooler. Before he leaves he'll glance over at Risali though and make sure she's not about to fall over because of the whole leg thing. (He's got some gentlemanly manners!) When he does return, it's rather quickly and with a single dessert on a plate. Said dessert is a nearly perfect sphere coated in a glaze that changes shades as it moves downwards. It kind of looks like a sunset. At the very top are a few pink-tinted sugar shards balanced quite delicately. "This one needs a name too."

"That is not knowledge or wisdom, Sylvarin. That is attempted murder." YOU KNOW IT AND SHE KNOWS IT. But don't worry, the weyrwoman is steady; she shifts her weight back to her crutch, curious eyes trailing after the baker as he makes that way to the cooler and comes back with a dessert that looks… pretty. AND normal. Risali's brows knit in, those grey eyes flicker from masterpiece to maker, and there's another shift as she retrieves a utensil and then hobbles her way closer. "This feels like a trick," Risali tells him with good humor, even as she steals a small bit of that treat and, after a moment of staring at Sylvarin for uncomfortably long, puts it in her mouth and chews slow without breaking eye contact. WELL. IF SHE IS GOING TO NAME IT, SHE HAS TO TASTE IT, DOESN'T SHE?

Sylvarin says absolutely nothing about the murder comment, because it's kind of true. Near death experiences can be life changing though. He leans on the counter again, watching as she takes the bite and this time he actually looks just a /touch/ nervous. "Would I ever trick you? /Me/?" Probably because it's something he actually put effort into to taste good. When she takes a taste she'll be greeted with a light whipped mousse, that's somehow held this shape, that tastes of a mix of citrus flavors. There's a hint of tartness to balance out the sweet and underneath that is just a touch of mint which somehow works with the whole dish. The glaze itself is flavored with vanilla and cloves and softens the stronger flavors. Sylvarin /might/ be just rudely staring to see how she reacts to the whole thing.

Oh Faranth, but that's good. Risali looks startled, honestly startled as she takes in flavor and texture, as she looks back to the dessert and then swallows her bite before going for another. "Faranth," she breathes between bites. "Faranth, Sylvarin - this is amazing." But there were IMPORTANT THINGS to be done with this: a naming, and while Risali takes yet another bite, she actually studies the dish. She takes in its appearance, in the flavors; she recognizes the fact that this is the first time that Sylvarin offered her a dish that was actually delicious and… "New Beginnings," she finally settles on. "Because it looks like a sunrise, and because it's the first time I understood why you're a baker." That last tease comes with a flicker of amusement at the corners of her lips, as she sets aside that utensil and comes a little closer. Grey eyes take in Sylvarin as if seeing him for the very first time, her head tilting to the side as grey eyes trail up and pause, right there, her gaze fixed to his. "And because I am hoping maybe that I can convince you to change your ways with this." WAIT A SECOND. Did she just press a white knot into his chest? "If nothing else, at least I can watch you suffer. In revenge. For all the delicious desserts you massacred and all the people you gave Dessert-time PTSD."

Sylvarin hadn't noticed that he'd been holding his breath, nor had he noticed the tension in his shoulders but when he gets a positive review from Risali all those nerves release all at once. His features light up with something /other/ than that evil glee he gets. "New Beginnings…I like it. Leaves the flavor a mystery while still promising something good." He straightens up, though one hip still keeps him pressed against the counter and chuckles softly. "I was pretty sure you were gonna talk to the bakers about having me demoted for a second there." Honestly, it's a surprise that he hasn't already been knocked back to apprentice with all the bouts of food poisoning. He'll hold her gaze, green-blue eyes dancing with just a hint of amusement when she talks about changing his ways until there's a white knot suddenly pressed to his chest. Out of reflex he reaches up for it so that it doesn't fall to the ground and then he's staring at /it/ instead of her. There are quite a few things running through his head right now, though his knitted brows don't adequately give his surprise the facial expression it deserves. It's only when Risali speaks again that his weird sort of trance breaks and the corners of his lips hitch upwards once again. "So you're not kicking me out of the Weyr?" He still thinks there's a 5% chance that he eventually gets kicked out regardless. "I /guess/ I'll suffer through an man-less, woman-less, alcohol-less season for the sake of your revenge." But behind all those words there /is/ some sincerity that actually comes to light (albeit it's said quieter than all his joking around). "Thank you." A lot more emphasis on the thank you then his previous words. His fingers? They're closed quite tightly around the knot with every intention of keeping it!

Risali's answering smile is slow - and painful, enough that it turns into another wince and a ginger touch of fingertips to her lower lip. But she does speak with a mischievous sounding, "Not yet, anyway," to answer that tossing-out-of-the-weyr remark. And she listens, a huff of laughter as he talks about ALL THOSE VICES HE'S GOING TO GIVE UP and Risali moves, to put her hand on Sylvarin's chest and pat once, twice, gently, as if she means to soothe him. "Actually," comes that correction with a scrunch of her nose that speaks to humor and ends with another grimace of fleeting pain, "Xanadu does things a little differently. You don't have to give up the men, or the women, you just have to be discreet - and no pregnancies, which I don't think will be a concern for you." A beat. "And you absolutely can keep drinking, so long as it doesn't interfere with your ability to do your duties. You can still practice your craft because we'd rather you do that, but the Headwoman and the Weyrlingmaster and his assistants will put you to work if they see you idle. Ah - and no fighting. So basically: be discreet, don't do anything that interferes with your ability to perform - and you can take that however you want - and don't do anything that will make the guards come looking." And she's shifting away, towards the door that she peeks out of to see if the coast is clear. A beat, and then she turns to look at the baker again, another smile that she regrets, and she's offering a soft, "You're welcome, Sylvarin. Thank you, for the treat." And OUT SHE GOES. Running away, maybe finding a better place to hide from the healers, or a new victim to inflict knots upon.

"Wait…seriously?" Sylvarin definitely looks surprised now, those wrinkled eyebrows shooting upwards a slow smile spreads across his face. "I've got to say those are some pretty amazing terms." Because honestly he likes the nice things in life, and that means indulging in his vices. There's a small snort when she mentions pregnancy not being an issue but he's not disagreeing with her. "So…maybe lay low on the food poisoning for a bit, got it." Because that might actually have some effect. Hopefully he'll be able to /mostly/ control himself for a while….just an occasional incident perhaps. We shall seeee! And then all of a sudden Risali is /back/ to fleeing and he lets out a quiet laugh, "Good luck with the great escape!" And he'll nod his head as she departs before turning back to his creations, though definitely more distracted now!

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