towerofanimus | A small thank you

Characters: Francisca and YOU
Setting: Kitchens
Format: Starting prose but happy to switch to action~
Summary: Francisca decides to make cake for her friends and loved ones in the tower.
Warnings: None (yet)

Tired-looking but immaculately dressed, Francisca set out the ingredients for her cake, the strawberry jam and bowl of fresh strawberries from breakfast joining the lot for garnishing. For a moment she'd stood there, staring at the food and utensils, absently trying to remember how to make a basic cake of all things... She'd chuckled to herself thinking on how England would react at seeing France at a loss in the kitchen of all places, and started making the batter.

After a moment her hands went on auto-pilot, and the familiar feel of a mixing bowl and spoon in her hands was... comforting. As she stirred the batter into smooth submission, her mind recalled her non-present loved ones, a painful tugging in her heart accompanying the memory of their faces, and then she thought on the new friends she'd made here. Warmth seemed to suffuse her, bringing a pleased flush to her cheeks and a content smile to her lips, as she thought absently on how they might enjoy the cake. Small, simple, not the most elegant of 'thank you's, but still.

Without realizing it, she'd started to hum, checking the batter for lumps before pouring it into the prepared cake-pan.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Bed rest is pretty good in this place." Dave really should invest more time in that shit. Nope, too busy wandering the tower.

He leans against the counter, propping his head up on his hands. "Seriously, you are probably the least nuisance thing in this place. I've dealt with worst. It's cool. You look like you're doing better." Which he's glad, because you kind of freaked him out last time.

She smiled apologetically, silently conveying how sorry she was that he had to see that. "I am. Or at least I'm getting there. Have you been staying out of trouble?"

"Of course. I've been a very good boy. Eat my veggies and brush my teeth after." No. He's lying. He's been pretty miserable.

"Of course you have," she answered smoothly, not believing it for a second. "The kitchen's been stocked with rather horrendous ingredients this month but there's enough for me to make some spiced mash potato. Care to join me for some?"

That's her way of saying you're looking a little peaky, maybe some hearty food will do you some good.

"They're pretty bad at giving us decent food apparently."

He kind of keeps his eyes downcasted at her hands and what she's doing when he replies. "Yeah, okay. That sounds good."

She's right though. He's been kind of shit with how he's been eating, and the week of eating strange and weird things during June didn't help.

"Sit down then," she 'ordered' gently, petting his shoulder as she passed by to get to the potatoes in the pantry.

She returned shortly with the bowl of potatoes, several jars of various spices perched on top of the brown starchy nuggets. As she began skinning the potatoes with a knife, she asked quietly, "Did you get hurt while I was.. indisposed?"

He tried to not wince so obviously when she pet his shoulder. The burns he had gotten weren't as bad as they were before, getting help with the healing, but he was still slightly sensitive and it stung when there was too much pressure on them.

Dave takes a seat though, hoping she didn't catch that at the very least since he was going to have to lie through his teeth answering that question. "I said I was a perfectly good kid, didn't I? I'm learning to play nice with the others."

Sorry Dave, but she's lived through enough fires and dealt with little children trying to hide they're hurt far too often. She doesn't demand to see the wounds though, and instead coolly asks, "Is that so? What happened to your shoulder?"

"Banged my shoulder against something hard." Nope. He's not going to tell her. Mostly because he doesn't want it to be an actual problem anymore. He's already gotten apologies from Jin and Minato for what happened. "I bruise like a damn peach sometimes."

"... Of course," she murmured, cleaning then cutting the now pealed potatoes into large chunks before putting them in a pot of water to simmer over the stove. After wiping her hands on a dish cloth, she came around and stood next to Dave, keeping her movements slow so he wouldn't completely freak out as she drew him into a protective hug, cheek resting on his head.

She'll pretend she's not shaking if you will.

Oh. Oh gosh. No, no, no. She shouldn't be shaking or feel bad. He's okay. Dave thinks he's okay at least. He's not sure what line okay is on, but he doesn't think he's in a bad place in terms of mental stability.

"Hey...it's chill. Tower just threw some stuff at us and we had to deal," he replied as confidently as he can. He does hug her back though. Kind of awkwardly. His Bro wasn't really a hugging type of guy and he wasn't exactly the best at physical affection.

"I'm sure you're fine," she answered quietly, still hugging him, one hand rising to stroke his hair gently. She's a bit too used to hugging people who're a bit awkward about touchy-feely moments, so she's fine with his awkwardness, content to keep hugging him in her mother-hen way.

Oh, he appreciates it. It's just extremely foreign to him, especially since he hasn't been the most social as of late. "Totally fine. And you're fine. So there's a lot of fine going on in this kitchen. Only the finest can be found here." He's not sure what he's saying, but it seemed like a good idea until he said it.

Her arms tightened a bit around him protectively, and she wordlessly noted that he seemed to have lost a bit of weight again.

"Too much 'fine' here then," she chuckled, kissing the top of his head before resuming stroking his hair back, absently noting that the potatoes are simmering away quietly behind them.

They're not talking about that. He's just got bad eating habits, that's all. At least, that's his excuse.

"There can never be too much fine," Dave mumbled out. He finds it a little odd that she kisses the top of his head and that she strokes his hair. He doesn't hate it, but it was never really a form of affection he was familiar with before.

"Ah, well at least you agree with me on that," she chuckled quietly, content to keep hugging and petting him. "My neighbour, Anglettere, she used to argue with me that I had no sense of taste when it came to balancing beauty with dullness."

She's babbling a bit, hoping her banter will help him ease up to her constant affection.

"Obviously, she's just jealous of your swag," Dave said. "I don't even know what that means. What's there to balance. People don't care about dull people."

You have to be cool or interesting for people to like you.

A small thank you

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