WEEK 6

[stagemanagers]

WEEK 6

[Six weeks later, and eleven performers remain.

The opera house is much the same when Monday morning dawns this week. It seems you've truly gone as high as you can go - there is no fifth floor, and no sign of any other new areas. The air has grown colder, like perhaps someone failed to adjust the heating for the winter weather that's supposedly happening just outside. Javert and Astarte's stars are still firmly affixed to their doors; it seems you might have to try a little harder to learn their secrets.

Things seem to be building. Have a good week, everyone.]

[ Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday ]

[ooc: don't forget to submit your memories and check into the roll call!]

Comments

OTA

[dechagny]

[Well, the cold is definitely a thing, isn't it. Begrudgingly, Raoul decides he'll keep the striped scarf he got from the booth a while back and proceeds to wear it today as he works in the kitchen, the dangling ends left to hang behind him as he works on a brand new culinary disaster. Even if Astarte isn't here to cook with him...even if the amount of people here to enjoy what he makes lessens every week, he's going to cook. He wants to get better at this. He wants to help whoever else is here and be useful, dammit.

As if by some miracle of bread jesus God, there is also some macaroni and cheese to go with it. Granted, it's from a box, but it also looks more pleasing than your other Raoul-made option. If you catch him after he's all done cooking, you'll find him in the dining room, quietly picking at his portion and deep in thought.]

cooking!

[trettende]

[ Something smells... spammy. Not that Hans recognizes the smell, but it's an odd thing to put in a pie, you have to admit. He knows Raoul is among the people avoiding him since the whole thing with Anna came to light, but his curiosity and desire to at least not be the bad guy when there's so few of them gets the better of him. ]

Would you like some help, Raoul?

[ Hans is here, gloves and all, ready to lend a hand if it's not completely unwelcome. ]

[dechagny]

[Hans. Look. You're not unwelcome, Raoul will tolerate your presence and come to your parties and is happy to feed you his terrible food, but. You gotta admit, you did a fucked up thing. You're on his shit list.

As it is, he turns at the question, clears his throat. Reminds himself that the worst thing that could go into the pie is the apparent salt content of the Spam.]

I would not deny it. What of cooking do you happen to know?

[Why do you ask that like you're good at it?]

[trettende]

[ Can't bygones be bygones?? You totally wouldn't have found out about any of that stuff if it wasn't for Anna. Plus yeah, he's not gonna, like. Poison your gross pie? That's not how Hans rolls. ]

Well, I haven't tried baking since being here, but I've been cooking for myself since we arrived. Soups and casseroles, mostly.

[ Read: not great, but he's had to learn because no one will eat with him :'( ]

[dechagny]

[No, he wouldn't have, but then again, Hans wouldn't have done any of those terrible things if it weren't for Anna.

Also he better fucking not, this is a thing of beauty.]

It's a similar concept to regular cooking. You simply use different heating sources to get the desired result. [He pauses to take a look at the spam liquid he's...admittedly, after a lot of trial and error, made in the food processor. It's not really, erm. Appetizing.] And hopefully...that result looks better cooked then uncooked.

[trettende]

[ Then it's Anna's fault, right? Hans would totally be for this idea. ]

I see. [ Raoul's cooking looks absolutely disgusting, but Hans mostly came to make nice and chat, not... actually cook. ]

Have you had much success?

[ Not that he's doubting your skills but he's doubting your skills. ]

dining room

[dontfeedplants]

[Hey look it's your horrible food enabler, Raoul! However, while he's interested in your gross food, he seems concerned at the look on his face. Seymour sits down next to Raoul before quietly clearing his throat.]

Hey, is everything alright?

[As soon as he said it, he realized how stupid that question was.]

[dechagny]

[Good enabler, best friend. Raoul attempts a smile for Seymour when he sits down, but it fades a bit at the question.]

Ah. I...don't know. Those...memories that come to us...mine is...even more confusing than the last.

[Quietly prods at a piece of spam.]

[dontfeedplants]

[He frowns. Yeesh, it looks like the memory Raoul gained this week was harsh.]

Do you want to talk about it? I understand if you don't, but maybe it could help?

[dechagny]

[Not harsh on its own, but juxtaposed to last week's? It's brutal.]

I don't mind. Perhaps - yes, perhaps talking it out will make things clearer. That is, if you don't mind listening.

[dontfeedplants]

I wouldn't have offered if I minded listening. I really don't mind.

[Best case scenario they can rant about this shitty "Angel of Music" guy again.]

[robitussin]

Huh.

[Looking at the spam pie, deeply skeptical as usual.]

What is it this time?

[dechagny]

A pie, of sorts! [Though it reminds him strongly of making quiche...] It is made with some sort of canned meat that I can only assume is pork, but given a funny name so as to sell it.

[robitussin]

...Are you talking about spam? Oh my god, you discovered spam. That's amazing.

[dechagny]

Yes, that's what the packaging and the recipe called it. [What is this reaction though.] Is it...more remarkable than it appeared?

[robitussin]

It's not even that good, it's just like... Iconic. I don't how to explain it.

kitchen

[stagemanagers]

[ wow, raoul. that is vile. ]

[ and also doesn't use the microwave at all ]

[ so it's a little weird that the microwave has just turned itself on ]

[dechagny]

[He jumps at the sound of it humming, and just. Stares for like half a minute at the microwave being on. He's been in the kitchen enough times to know that it's not suppose to work that way. It only does the thing when you press the buttons. So why...

...Bah, it's probably a bunch of nonsense. He crosses over, turns the microwave off, and returns to his work.

Dare you to do it again.]

[stagemanagers]

[ you turned it off before it was done ]

[ a few seconds later it turns back on ]

[dechagny]

[JESUS FUCK

He legit jumps a couple inches at that, stumbling back into the counter. You're lucky the pie doesn't go flying, mysterious microwave-turner-oner - and you might even be more lucky that he takes a glance at how long the timer's been set.

Is the microwave set to a specific amount of time? Say, the length of time it takes to make a Hot Pocket?]

[stagemanagers]

[ less than that now ]

[ but then again, you did turn it off in the middle of its original cooking time ]

[ let it finish? ]

cooking

[catliketread]

[The Pirate King is here for more candies because who doesn't raid the cabinet for candies every day, but he pauses in the door to watch Raol work for a moment.]

You certainly are diligent! What exactly are you making?

[dechagny]

[Ah, the Pirate King! Good man, there he is. Raoul moves so he can take a look at that...eugh...pink goo setting in the pie crust.]

It is a pie of something called "Spam". I...am starting to wonder, however, how viable these recipes actually are. Nothing has actually looked like this before cooking.

[catliketread]

It certainly is uh... unique!

[Yes, that's the kind way of putting it. Yikes.]

Perhaps another ingredient may be better for pies in the future, though...

[dechagny]

I am definitely going to favor many other fillings in the future.

[Even if this turns out edible and doesn't make anybody sick, he's never ever cooking with Spam again. This is frightening.]