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likeyouknow[ The camera function comes on, showing two figures â the first, much larger and in focus, is a blue-grey woman with very visible cat ears and tail. She seems chipper, as much as anyone can be after recent events, and is wearing an apron. Those whoâve seen her around enough to recognize her will know that sheâs a member of Purple Team, and that their round of cooking is over and done with; leaving the question of why sheâs in the top floor of the kitchen car to begin with. And why her apron says, clearly in bedazzled letters from the art car: KISS THE COOK.
Emet-Selch, on the other hand, is dressed in his usual over formal attire, standing with his back to whatever it is that Pahja is doing behind him; there seems to be an absolute sense of nonchalance, even as he moves around the kitchen. His hands move, and his head tilts a little as he hears Pahja begin to speak, a frown settled on his face - the kind that speaks of a familiar exasperation with a situation.
Pahja beams, facing the camera. ]
Right, greetings all! It has come to my attention that what food exists in our world, [ A gesture to Emet-Selch and herself. ] is rather different in both names and composition than what many other people here are familiar with.
[ Emet-Selch cuts in, his frown growing a little deeper. ]
Must you keep record of the simplest of chores that I do here? I doubt anyone is overly concerned with my ability to perform in the kitchen, nor what ingredients I might have used previously.
[ As he turns, itâs clear that Emet-Selch is preparing one of the recipes for the month - there's soup, and mushrooms, and it looks fine. Following instructions is hardly the most difficult task of his lifetime, after all, and heâs lived long enough that cooking isnât the most tiresome of feats. Yet.
It remains to be seen if cooking with Pahja hovering is more or less exhausting than the usual.
For her part, Pahja simply rolls her eyes at his protests. Itâs good for him, sheâs sure, and it isnât that sheâs ungrateful for his company or his cooking skills, just that he could probably attempt to do it without dragging his feet and complaining. Though sheâs reasonably certain that he wouldnât be Emet-Selch if he did. ]
I think someone dressed as you are makes a very interesting picture in the kitchen, seeing as you refused your matching apron. After I went to all the trouble to decorate it, too! [ Some people just canât appreciate a good thing when they see one. But it is also clear that she carries no ill-will towards him, and probably didnât even expect him to wear it at all. ] What I wished to ask you all is to tell me about the foods and snacks that you enjoyed at home. If you would be willing to share how to make it, or even cook it, all the better! Even Emet has agreed to cook something from his youth. Well, his pre-Emperor days, at least. Not his youth youth, I fear that may be impossibleâ
[ That last bit is said softly, under her breath more as a musing than an attempt to pester Emet-Selch. As soon as Pahja is done speaking, Emet-Selchâs face leans into the frame with a frown, and he lifts his hand. ]
Thatâs enough of that. Respond to her if you wish, but we are finished here.
[ And, suddenly, itâs over. ]
Emet-Selch, on the other hand, is dressed in his usual over formal attire, standing with his back to whatever it is that Pahja is doing behind him; there seems to be an absolute sense of nonchalance, even as he moves around the kitchen. His hands move, and his head tilts a little as he hears Pahja begin to speak, a frown settled on his face - the kind that speaks of a familiar exasperation with a situation.
Pahja beams, facing the camera. ]
Right, greetings all! It has come to my attention that what food exists in our world, [ A gesture to Emet-Selch and herself. ] is rather different in both names and composition than what many other people here are familiar with.
[ Emet-Selch cuts in, his frown growing a little deeper. ]
Must you keep record of the simplest of chores that I do here? I doubt anyone is overly concerned with my ability to perform in the kitchen, nor what ingredients I might have used previously.
[ As he turns, itâs clear that Emet-Selch is preparing one of the recipes for the month - there's soup, and mushrooms, and it looks fine. Following instructions is hardly the most difficult task of his lifetime, after all, and heâs lived long enough that cooking isnât the most tiresome of feats. Yet.
It remains to be seen if cooking with Pahja hovering is more or less exhausting than the usual.
For her part, Pahja simply rolls her eyes at his protests. Itâs good for him, sheâs sure, and it isnât that sheâs ungrateful for his company or his cooking skills, just that he could probably attempt to do it without dragging his feet and complaining. Though sheâs reasonably certain that he wouldnât be Emet-Selch if he did. ]
I think someone dressed as you are makes a very interesting picture in the kitchen, seeing as you refused your matching apron. After I went to all the trouble to decorate it, too! [ Some people just canât appreciate a good thing when they see one. But it is also clear that she carries no ill-will towards him, and probably didnât even expect him to wear it at all. ] What I wished to ask you all is to tell me about the foods and snacks that you enjoyed at home. If you would be willing to share how to make it, or even cook it, all the better! Even Emet has agreed to cook something from his youth. Well, his pre-Emperor days, at least. Not his youth youth, I fear that may be impossibleâ
[ That last bit is said softly, under her breath more as a musing than an attempt to pester Emet-Selch. As soon as Pahja is done speaking, Emet-Selchâs face leans into the frame with a frown, and he lifts his hand. ]
Thatâs enough of that. Respond to her if you wish, but we are finished here.
[ And, suddenly, itâs over. ]
