Post by AngryOldHag on Jul 26, 2010 13:36:59 GMT -8
It was a quiet morning. The breakfast rush had come and gone and Awan, amazing enough, found herself with some time on her hands. This time wasn't spent away from the kitchen. Shards no. That would be wasteful. She could leave the kitchen when someone kicked her out but until then she was busy and one should not interfere with genius at work. Even if said genius was just as liable to cause one's teeth to spontaneously jump out of one's mouth as it was to create something tantalizing and almost addictive. Awan's work was, at the best of times, a game of chance, a dare to challenge your taste-buds or accidentally obliterate them.
At the moment, the generously curved young cook was rummaging about in one of the lower cabinets, muttering under her breath about whoever was in there last because they had quite clearly misunderstood the purpose to keeping the pots and pans ordered by type instead of their own eclectic sense of aesthetics.
The scent of something sweet with a subtle undercurrent of spice filtered through the air, originating from an oven near to where Awan was trying to find a proper pan to whip up a new topping for the cake.
"Some people shouldn't be allowed near a kitchen," she muttered, reaching in with one heft arm and pulled a big bowl out of the back. "Messing up the system just because they can. Haven't they ever learned to put it all back where they found it? I just had this whole thing in order again!" Muttering more to herself about the various punishments that she would unleash on the next person she caught messing up with her kitchen. Never mind that A. it wasn't her kitchen to begin with and B. she would never be able to actually meet out such punishments. Details, details.
Back to work. She needed to create the perfect topping. Something soft to compliment but not overpower the cake she'd made and still flavorful enough to exist. So much work to do. Humming a little - she wasn't such a great singer but a little humming never harmed anyone - she began to mix and taste and taste a little more. Never trust a skinny cook, all those little licks and nips and sips went right to the hips and Awan had a pair of killers on her.
At the moment, the generously curved young cook was rummaging about in one of the lower cabinets, muttering under her breath about whoever was in there last because they had quite clearly misunderstood the purpose to keeping the pots and pans ordered by type instead of their own eclectic sense of aesthetics.
The scent of something sweet with a subtle undercurrent of spice filtered through the air, originating from an oven near to where Awan was trying to find a proper pan to whip up a new topping for the cake.
"Some people shouldn't be allowed near a kitchen," she muttered, reaching in with one heft arm and pulled a big bowl out of the back. "Messing up the system just because they can. Haven't they ever learned to put it all back where they found it? I just had this whole thing in order again!" Muttering more to herself about the various punishments that she would unleash on the next person she caught messing up with her kitchen. Never mind that A. it wasn't her kitchen to begin with and B. she would never be able to actually meet out such punishments. Details, details.
Back to work. She needed to create the perfect topping. Something soft to compliment but not overpower the cake she'd made and still flavorful enough to exist. So much work to do. Humming a little - she wasn't such a great singer but a little humming never harmed anyone - she began to mix and taste and taste a little more. Never trust a skinny cook, all those little licks and nips and sips went right to the hips and Awan had a pair of killers on her.