and still no fried ice cream, what a tragedy

[motherfucking_ghost]

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.

Comments

[motherfucking_ghost]

"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."

[aceso]

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."

[motherfucking_ghost]

"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.

[aceso]

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?"

[motherfucking_ghost]

"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."

[aceso]

"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.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"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?"

[aceso]

"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."

[motherfucking_ghost]

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."

[aceso]

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?"

[motherfucking_ghost]

"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.

[aceso]

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.