faderift | and still no fried ice cream, what a tragedy

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and still no fried ice cream, what a tragedy

WHO: Cosima, Church, ALL Y'ALL
WHAT: Frying food. Possibly frying things that aren't food. A slow descent into crazy.
WHEN: During Phase One
WHERE: Gallows kitchens, primarily
NOTES: They made an announcement, this is just during the whole period of time. We'll have toplevels for each of them, and unless specified, there's going to be threadhopping since they're in the same place at the same time.

It had started with a meeting of active minds, more active now than before. And then a gathering of supplies and a taking over of the kitchen between meals. They tried not to be in the way when there was cooking for meals, because otherwise that would be very rude, and they didn't need a whole lot of space to set up what they needed, a makeshift deep fat fryer.

But, of course, because of the Plot, this isn't just gonna be happy fun Rifter food times, so I hope you're not super put off by the sight of two obsessive and restless Rifters making a mess of things and not sleeping and practically forcing fried mostly veggies on everyone.

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He's fully dedicated to this project, ostensibly in memory of their departed friend Ruby, but he's not a drooling fanatic. As time passes, he goes from eagerly rummaging for new items to try, cheerily cutting, making up breading to roll in, and generally having a good time--to restlessly not being able to finish any of these given tasks in one sitting, roving about the kitchen with a basket full of items, some of which may or may not be entirely edible, starting to cut something and then moving onto something else, running out into the mess to pull hapless people in to demand they try some concoction of theirs and dashing off again.

At some point, she helped make him a smaller makeshift fryer because of how much he wanted to try meats of various kinds. This may not have been a wise decision. Oh, he's careful at first--as careful as someone like Church can be. But when his restlessness grows, so too does his lack of care for safety. By the end, it's likely he's got several burns across his hands and arms due to boiling oils and fats (and whatever else they've scrounged up), or handling too hot foods fresh out of the basket.

His speech becomes less eager rapidfire rambling and more and more becomes his distracted, not quite stuttering speech, interrupting his own sentences with new thoughts, repeating words, changing words. The sleeplessness only makes him all the more volatile even before he starts tinting blue.

So too is the issue of food supplies. They'll hardly run the Inquisition out, but it's the dead of winter, and they're going to be trying a lot. of foods. in this dumb venture. Maybe tell them to chill out and save some for literally everyone else? On the other hand, is it awesome or concerning to see him toss a whole stick of butter in batter and then in oil to see what comes out? Rest assured, he's going to try frying up meats KFC style. ...This might be a bad time to point out that Church and cooking do not necessarily go hand in hand.

[[come at him at any time during the phase, with literally anything you got, wildcard me baby]]

Being the supportive girlfriend she is, Christine comes around to test some of the fried food. There are some hits and some misses, but overall it's a pretty positive experience. As the days pass however, she's noticing Church's lack of rest, and his near obsession with making new combinations. Yet Christine has faith that Cosima will talk him out of anything silly. Eventually, Christine becomes aware of some type of obsessive mania affecting mainly rifters, and she thinks she'd better head back to the kitchen to check on Church. That's when she finds him at the new fryer for meat, and she spies the burns on his hands and arms.

While her kneejerk reaction is to start yelling, she doesn't want to startle him in this state. Instead, she says his name gently.

"Church. Let's move away from the fryer and sit down. I want to take a look at you." So she can heal these wounds and see if she can figure out where this behavior is coming from.

"What?" He barely looks up at her. "Nah, I'm...'s all good here. We're doing really, really good here. Cos can't quite get the blooming onions right, and--I mean it's stupid, but man, once you taste them, with the right dipping sauce, they're--oh man, they're gonna rock your world. And the KFC! That's--it's an Earth thing, a brand, you don't have a Kentucky here, and I'm making up what the super secret herbs and spices are as I go, because, shit, I don't cook, much, I mean, with you, for you, sometimes, you've seen, I'm learning, but this cooking from scratch thing is just, it's hard for someone who never really had to, so, just, this is good, this is really really good."

If he's aware of his hastened rambling, he doesn't indicate it. Which probably means he's unaware. Or at least unconcerned.

Normally his excitement would make her laugh and want to learn more, but she just can't do that right now while he's injured. Still, she gives a smile and a nod of her head.

"I promise I will not take up much of your time, but I wish to look at your hands. Those burns might become infected if I do not heal them. It will only take a moment."

"It's fine, it happens, it splashes up and everything. I'll pack some ice on them later." It sure doesn't sound like he'll even remember to do that. "I mean, you're more important." Which would be a sweet sentiment if he actually...looked at her? Instead of pausing in the middle of his breading to get up and sort through a nearby basket for something completely different, in this case, is that...is that cauliflower, is that something that gets fried, he's about to find out and start ripping chunks off it. "I'll check on you later, y'know, when I'm done, so don't, it's--this is fine, and it'll be great, and listen, listen, this is all gonna be awesome when it's done."

"Can you not spare even a moment for me?" she asks with no small amount of surprise. It's not uncommon for Church to be passionate about things, but to be so completely focused that he won't even look at her? This doesn't seem right. Church doesn't seem like himself, which added to the lack of rest he's been getting appears to be a warning sign that something's wrong.

But is that true, or is Christine being overly cautious? Does she believe he might be ill because she's been ill with this mystery weakness? She shouldn't jump to conclusions, but at the same time, she knows this man. And right now he seems a little too focused on his work at the risk of his health. What if she were to take him by the arm and try to pull him away from the fryer? Would he struggle against her? Shout at her? Or would he come with her? She doesn't attempt it just yet.

"People can certainly wait a few extra minutes for this food so I can heal you."

"I'm busy, I-I'm doing something that--it's for Rifters, okay, that's, isn't that important?" Isn't it? His vision swims for a moment, god, is it just really hot in here? Just a side-effect of all this boiling oil, that's all. He runs a hand across his forehead, fighting a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration and leaving a smear of breading.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry I haven't been around much, and when I'm done, when I'm done I'm gonna cuddle up to you so hard, but I just gotta--"

But apparently cauliflower isn't cutting it for his shortened attention span, despite the hyperfocus, and he brings up his little basket out of the oil, and some deeply darkly brown lumps stick there. He bangs it on a table to try and unstick them. "Damn it, how am I supposed to time this shit right without a-a fucking timer or a sundial indoors in the middle of winter or the fuck ever, fucking--"

It's true that this is important to him and he's been wanting to do this for quite some time, but now his behavior has Christine launching into caregiver mode.

"I know, I know," she says soothingly, caressing his hair in an attempt to calm him down. "You are doing so well, but you need rest. Did you not tell me recently that I should not hide my ailments from you? You cannot do the same to me. What is wrong? Why can you not sleep, or stop this cooking?"

"There's nothing wrong, except I'm bad at figuring this shit out, but that's what the practice is for. Cuz it makes perfect. I'm not tired. I feel great." Well, he'd felt great several days ago. The great feeling's been dissipating ever since, but he can't sleep, doesn't want to, or just can't. And he has to focus but also can't focus all the same. Cosima's got it on lockdown and he can barely finish one thing without getting antsy and frustrated.

"You don't have to worry. It's gonna be great. It's gonna all be great, then I'll sleep, it's okay."

Christine places a hand to his forehead, frowning at what she feels. That, plus the way he's talking are leaving her more than concerned. She's incredibly worried now.

"You are sweating," she says in a pointed tone. "And overheated. Sit down right over there and let me look you over. I cannot let you go on like this."

"I don't know what you're worried about, it's just hot in here, I've been working on this. It's fine. I'm okay! What if I sit and keep working, how about that?" What if he picks up a slab of pork and slaps it on a nearby table, working to trim the fat from it.

Letting out a sigh, she comes to sit beside him, placing her hand on his arm to heal the highest up of the wounds. It's going to be a struggle to do this while his hands are moving, but she'll do what she has to.

"Do you not trust me? I am a healer, and I know you better than anybody else here does. Would you doubt my word when I say there is something wrong with you?"

"You didn't think there was anything wrong with you. I mean...I mean, there--" He doesn't flinch at the tingle of magic, but his head does jerk up, and swivels to see where Cosima is. Lowers his voice, enough of him left to not advertise it all over the place. "I mean there is. But I'm a healthy guy. I won't be once I stuff a dozen bars of fried cookies down my throat, but I don't, uhhhh. Sick? I don't really get sick. When do I get sick? I'm just cooking, that's all. That's all I'm doing."

"No, I cannot find what is wrong with me, and I wished to ignore it in the hopes it would go away, but I knew something was wrong." Her hand moves down to heal additional burns with her magic.

"That is not all you are doing. You are obsessing about the cooking. I know you, Church. I have seen you excited. This is something more." And then she thinks of something. A bit of trickery. She really isn't great at this sort of thing, but she'll give it a try.

"I suppose if you are not strong enough to resist the urge to cook, then there is nothing I can do. I bet you could not stop if you tried." When in doubt, insult a man's strength.

"I'm just excited!" He even flashes a grin at her, though the edges of it are just as manic as everything else he's doing. "Why wouldn't this be exciting? Cos and I and sometimes Jim and definitely Ruby when she was here, we've been talking about bringing Rifter foods in, and, and this seemed like a good opportunity. It's actually pretty relaxing, y'know, doing it all, when it's right? When you get it right, but it's hard to make any of it quite right. Why...would I wanna stop now?"

"This relaxes you?" she asks with no small amount of skepticism. "Were you not banging that basket on the table and yelling at it a minute ago? You need sleep. Will you not let this go until tomorrow and come home with me? A night away so you can rest would do you good." Again she presses a hand to his forehead. "You have been cooped up in here for days and are overheated."

He waves her off. "I'll go stand in the cold for a couple minutes. I'm not tired, I just need to--did you try the attempt at mozzarella sticks? I don't think it was actually mozzarella, probably why they didn't come out right, but we're getting close enough with those. Cheesy sticks. It's gonna be a big hit when it's done."

Christine's eyes narrow at him. Can he not even see how obsessed he's become with this project? He can't sleep, but says he's not tired. He's not taking care, because he burned himself with his experiments. Is there nothing she can do to save him from himself? At this rate, he may continue until he drops dead.

"And when will it be done? When you have fried every single food item in Thedas?"

"Not a bad idea," he says with some distraction. In fact, the distraction seems to last a distressingly long time, until he finally blinks and looks up at her. "Hey, listen, I know, I've been kinda neglecting us lately cuz of this, but then I'm gonna spend a lotta time at home when this is done and it'll be great and we'll both be great. Oh, I can give you some scraps to feed the pooch and maybe use in some stews? I can throw that together." New thing to do! New thing to occupy his always busy hands.

Reaching him seems hopeless. Though he's right here beside her, his mind is a million miles away. He may as well be across the ocean, or back in his world again, because he isn't here. Slowly, she forces herself to stand, placing a hand on his shoulder and stooping to kiss his forehead.

"Do not stay up too late," she says, her voice defeated. He won't listen. He's already gone. Perhaps she can discuss this with Sam, and together they can tie Church down to a bed and make him take a sleeping potion. But on her own, she can do nothing. Her words mean nothing. There's nothing she can do alone.

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and still no fried ice cream, what a tragedy

church!

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