Random Log: Zevida's Cooking Event

Xanadu Weyr - Caverns

A massive cavern in it's own right, this one has been skillfully adapted for human habitation. The high ceilings have been painted a light, soft ivory, as are the walls where numerous tapestries hang to provide brilliant color and insulation from the stone. The floor has been left in its natural state, pale pink granite speckled through with glittering mica and dark flecks of basalt, leveled carefully but kept sufficiently rough to avoid slips.
The cavern itself is loosely divided into areas, each one set up to be suitable for some segment of the Weyr's population. The most frequently occupied area, however, is the one near the Kitchens where tables of varying sizes provide a place to sit down and eat or chat and a buffet of consumables is almost always kept stocked. Its plain that on most days, this area wouldn't accommodate anywhere near the full population of the Weyr and equally plain that on such occasions when a formal meal is laid out, tables are appropriated from all the other areas.
A big fireplace is set into the wall near the Kitchens as well, several comfortable chairs nearby providing haunts for elderly residents or riders who like a good view of all that happens. Rugs cover the floor in strategic spots, all of them abstract or geometric in design and most in the softly neutral colors of undyed wool.

Exits lead off in all directions, a big archway the largest and that leading outside. Shallow stairs to the west lead to the offices and administration area while tunnels to the east lead to the infirmary, kitchen and resident's quarters. Southwards, a sloping tunnel leads down to the hot springs and southwest is a wide tunnel, carefully roped off to avoid accidents.//

And the table is set, but not with food. Not yet, at least. Different smells come in from the kitchen, good, bad, sour, spicy and sweet. And one by one, the table begins to fill with deserts, dinners, and side dishes, all at once. The setting to the caverns is not formal, but casual, nothing different from the normal setup of the area. Zevida walks in now, two boxes in her hands with another candidate with another two. The vote boxes are set up near the table, a list of each dish listed. Let the feasting begin.

Myra slips out of the kitchen, carrying one box, with a candidate close behind carrying another. Myra's looks far worse off, it smells of charred cake remains and smoke, while the candidate's - Trian's - looks and smells delicious, if not entirely … right. (Isn't Trian a terrible awful /horrible/ cook?) Myra also appears to be guiding the candidate, coaching him if you will. After a few words, Myra slips out with the distasteful box held out at arm's length, grimacing. Meanwhile, Trian takes the nicer box to the table, taking out what looks like a cake and placing it carefully among the other items.

R'miel wanders in from outside. It's been a while since this bronzer was at Xanadu, but he couldn't pass up an opportunity to partake in foods like this. The Ierne bronzer moseys to the table clapping his hands together in thought. "Wow, so much good stuff here. I guess I better start with dinner and move on to dessert." He picks up a plate and starts to fill it with little bits of this and that.

Myra sidles back into the room to sit back and watch, passing by the table and checking on the cake on her way. "Mmm, see, I /told/ you it'd be fine." she notes to Trian, cheerfully. She seems to have opted /not/ to taste the items, since, well… Does she /need/ a reason? She idly finds herself near Z'kiel, and there's a bit of an awkward moment there, as she's got Trian with her. Ailath's recent flight might also be an issue… She seems to be reconsidering her choice of seating, but she doesn't know whether to move or not.

"Myra." Z'kiel greets his clutchmate with a smile, Ailath's recent flight apparently not an issue from his perspective. Trian, on the other hand, may be another matter. After a pause, he finally acknowledges the other with a rather stiff nod. "Trian. It's been a while." He doesn't sound like he minds.

R'miel picks up one of the fish cookies and sniffs at it a bit. His nose wrinkles and he pulls away. "Ugh! These are the foulest smelling cookies I've ever had the displeasure of smelling." He looks to the closest patron to himself, which just happens to be another bronzer, Z'kiel, holding the cookie up to him. "Take a wiff of this, man. Tell me that isn't /wretched/."

Myra nods her head at Z'kiel, then glances to Trian. "I, ah, maybe we should leave?" she says, blushing just a touch. Trian shakes his head firmly, "No way, you had me here, cooking, and we're going to stay until that cake," he points to the Lying Cake, "is all eaten." All eaten? Hopefully it's /edible/ then. Myra sighs, and shrugs helplessly, leaning to Z'kiel to note, "He's not all bad, /honest/." And if he's not going to make issue about the flight outcome, neither is she. Flights are just flights, after all.

"I'll grant maybe he's changed since we all Stood together." Z'kiel half-shrugs to Myra, before he's quite willingly distracted by R'miel. His face takes on a rather distasteful expression, and he just shakes his head. "I don't know you well enough for you to be assulting my sense of smell like that." He murmurs to the other bronzerider. "That..I don't even have the words."

Zevida moves to take a bite from that ominous looking mountain dish.
R'miel shoves the cookie into mouth, then gags. He quickly takes a bite off the ribs to cleanse his palate. They looked good at least. "Bleeeech! Bleeech! Ugh. Whoever made those should not be allowed in the kitchen anymore." The bronzer goes back to his sampling.

Myra wouldn't actually know if Trian /has/ changed since then, to be honest. She hasn't seen him since she impressed, not until he was searched again, for this clutch. But she nods eagerly, "Ah, he has, he has. He's a whole different person! After the hatching, he's even going to join a craft." Is he now? Well, he /will/ be too old to stand again, true…

Keziah is checking out the table and the various items upon it. "Hmm, anything actually taste good?" she asks with a bit of trepidation. "Some of it looks a little, umm, I dunno."

R'miel goes into alarm as he bites into some spicy ribs. "Aaa, spicy!" He fetches himself something to drink, then goes straight for a bite of the mountain… thing. The bronzer goes back into alarm, this time yelping. "Hot! It's hot!" More drink, bread, even more drink. The bronzer pouts a bit, looking to Keziah. "I don't know if I can taste anything anymore…" Which means it's time for desserts.

Zevida eyes Keziah, grinning. "Well, t'ere are a few edible. By looks, at least. Don't know w'o cooked w'at or w'at is in w'at." Her shoulders shrug at her attempt to be helpful. A glance towards the bronzerider as he rejects the cookies, the ribs, and even her own mountain. A nibble on her own ribs and she shrugs. "Not too bad."

"A craft? Really?" Z'kiel seems suprised, but willing to grant Trian the benefit of the doubt though it doesn't seem to make him like the other anymore. "Huh. Maybe he's even gotten over what happened back then. Not that it was ever a reasonable reaction in the first place."

Myra shrugs a little, and continues to talk about Trian as if he's not there, though a little more kindly than she would if he were /actually/ not there. "Ah, it's an understandable reaction. He'd been standing for over /ten/ turns, I just stood the once, and /I/ impressed. It, er, sort of ruined our post-hatching plans, if you know what I mean… Must've felt like I was abandoning /him/, I was in a daze after I impressed, Reonth was my everything, and when I snapped out of it … he was gone." she shrugs, and then Trian pipes up with, "I didn't just leave, I was /searched/." with a hurrumph. But, no, he left.

Zevida finishes off her ribs, glancing at those cookies that R'miel tried then pointedly moves past them to nibble on a pastry. She moves to the voting box and does cast one vote.

"Mmmhmm." is all Z'kiel replies, seeming satisfied that Trian isn't being out and out hostile toward him for the moment. The bronzerider moves among the foods, occasionally sampling something.

R'miel is decieved by a peice of pie. Expecting a nice sweet blueberry taste, he bites in and instead recevies a blast of soury sand. This seems to be the first time R'miel has ever been decieved by pie, and he just stares at what's left of his piece in shock, with his mouth hanging open. Until he has to move for a drink. "Yeeeeech."

Zevida blinks once again towards R'miel's disgust to what he eats, her face works into a slight pout and she shrugs, starting to write down more votes from the very reactive bronzerider.
The Best Taste Voting Box(#9042)

At some point in time, not exactly noted by a watch or precise point of finger, Nalkor arrives. It could be that he was there for some time too. It doesn't take him long to shuffle with the crowd, finding himself nestled up close, shoulder to shoulder with other folks at times. He's after one of the dishes to taste test, deciding to go with a cake that to him seems a little flat.

Z'kiel is in the main less reactive than his Ierne counterpart, his face changing in more subtle ways as he works his way through the various dishes. One eye is kept on Trian, just in case.

Myra takes a reluctant stroll among the tables, nibbling a bit here and a bit there.. "Urgh, ugh, oh… What was in that?" she exclaims at the bubbly pie, rushing off to rinse her mouth out. "I… No, no more." she grimaces, shaking her head firmly. "Please." Trian tilts his head at the woman, in clear amusement. "Aw, but don't you want to try the one /I/ made?" he asks, eyes twinkling with mischief. "N…no. I think not." she manages, though the taste of the pie is long gone now.

R'miel has clearly overstuffed himself. He picks up a glass of something to drink, then meanders over to a table, holding his belly and looking a bit green around the gills. "Oooh… I think I ate too much." He plops himself down with his belly sticking out at an awkward angle. Not that he has much a belly, but enough to be noticeable.

The slice Nalkor took seems to be frowned at as he steps back, examining the cake with a mild interest that grows with a taste. For now, he steps back until he's finished working on the slice, eyes flickering over the other people currently shoving their mouths full.

Zevida chuckles softly, moving to take a piece of the cake. It can't be /that/ bad, can it? Also a few more of those pastries are taken.

Myra finally allows Trian to encourage her to try something else, and she picks something a little more familiar… Stew is always a safe bet! But, which one? Hmm… Trian points one out, the trader stew, as he scoops up some of the more colourful stew for himself. Myra tilts her head, then shrugs and figures there's not much else to lose, as she gets herself some of that trader's stew, tasting it /very/ warily. "Mm, not bad!" she notes, surprise obvious in her tone. Trian is frowning at the colourful one. "This one, eh… Bit … chalky? Nice spices, but…" … suddenly Myra is snickering at the candidate. "What, what? Do I have something on my face? In my teeth? What?" Trian begins asking, only making Myra laugh harder.

Zevida makes a face at the cake but quickly rectifies the situation with some pastries. A glance at the stew and she moves towards the sweeter smelling one. She eyes it carefully, glancing down at it and examining before taking some.

Z'kiel glances Myra and Trian's way at the snickering, and can't help but snicker himself. He does his best not to make it too obvious, but it's just plain amusing. Doubly so because it's Trian.

Zevida makes a face at the taste of this one. "Ick… Wrong 'erbs.." Grumbling, setting that stew aside and not willing to touch another. "I knew t'at some people couldn't cook but I wasn't expecting to 'ave something t'at nasty." Then again, she hasn't tried that pie R'miel cringed about.

Trian's tongue is distinctly red after tasting the colourful stew, but he has /no/ idea. Which just amuses Myra greatly. Ah, an excellent relationship the pair have, indeed. "Hey, what? Tell me! What?" he demands, though Myra is too busy chuckling to be able to answer. She finally holds up a spoon, and Trian suddenly frowns. "Oh, hey, that's … who made that?" he whines, glaring at the stew that did this to him. Myra just snickers, and glances to Z'kiel, before telling Trian, "Ah, lighten up, I'm sure it was a mistake."

[Voting Progressed]

[End Results:
First Place: Nalkor
Second Place: R’miel
Third Place: Rhelia
Fourth Place: R’in]

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