[ti]dungeon[/ti] STEEL CHEF

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Arthur clicked his tongue in frustration, seeing that his score for this round, despite how hard he struggled with the curses, left him with the lowest score he had accrued thus far. At least the curses were off, but clearly borrowing from other people's memories (and fishes) was not the way to go. Was his own experiences, memories, and feelings truly the answer..? (the ice sculpture was the one that did best, after all). He grimaced, finding the requirement harder than it looked.

Thankfully, there was one more round where he could still redeem himself, but before the mechanics of that one were revealed, the prices had to be distributed first. He watched players lose their names for something special, others stripped of their cabinets for a sprinkle of chaos, pieces of paper that caught Arthur's eye, and then--

The TRUTH decided to uppercut his nose, missing the chin, icicles forming deep inside his sinus. He let out a grunt of pain as blood dripped, allowing him to taste iron for a brief moment before it became icy cold. What the fuck was that? But when he wiped off the frost on his skin, seeing it smear his clothes red, but not feeling any sort of inherent change in him other than some kind of itch that he couldn't scratch, well, it seemed like he wouldn't know until this round was done, so it was an annoyance, a distraction. He thought to inhale through his nose before feeling prickles, as if his nose was buried in a VapoRub.

But even his inconvenience could not keep his attention away from the grand prize, which turned out to be a huge, wickedly cool motorcycle. And it was going to someone who he felt like wouldn't know how to ride it, but then again, this was a game, and if a game could make him cook with ingredients from anywhere, then it could give someone the knowledge to ride a motorcycle. In a way though, he didn't mind not taking that one, as he had to admit that thanks to Josh, the idea of Pokemon mounts was growing on him.

With the prizes distributed, it was finally time to reveal the final round's theme and mechanics. As it turned out, there was no theme (nice!) and the ingredients were the corpses of a dozen spirits that Chanda Mama sliced like butter (not nice?) Even if had no connection to the judges, it still made him flinch when he saw the Sun and the Hunter cut down when he was serving them not long before. Of course, perhaps the most unsettling of them all was Chanda Mama herself, who said it was her turn to be fed, and it was a reminder that they were all on the palm of her hand (or the tip of her ribbon?)

The timer was then reset, and Arthur had to use whatever he had learned so far to make a dish to dazzle. What would be his best bet? Players swoop in past him like ravens; he already saw many of the ingredients being taken. While he could certainly help someone, he didn't see the appeal. Instead, he made sure to pick something that had not been taken yet: The Lord of the Castle.

Preparation

The Lord took the form of a giant bird, reminiscent of an eagle adorned in predominantly gray and white feathers. Its eyes were open and soulless, and while its plumage was beautiful, it was also mired with deep cuts that glowed pink; residue from Chanda Mama's earlier assault. Even if Arthur was not religious, years and years of being forced to attend church moved him instinctually to say a small prayer, or perhaps a whisper of an apology for what he was going to do, for the Lord's death was far from noble, and the trainer doubted that he could honor its corpse with his skill.

But the reason why he picked this ingredient was because at its core, this was a bird, and that meant that dishes that primarily used chicken or duck could be applicable here, right? Instead of trying to find the recipes first, he figured he should split the Lord into parts to make it easier to work with. Here, he had to get assistance from the game for this one, as well as bringing out Mugan for Metal Claw.

Before that, though, they had to pluck the oversized avian (the game warned him about this. In all honesty, he was about to try cutting it without the defeathering, which did sound silly now that he thought about it).

He thought about searching up the usual way of defeathering, but then he remembered something in the previous round: wasn't there a wind spirit that was causing chaos a row behind him? Telling Mugan to behave (earning a growl from the dragon), he ran over to, err, what was his name? Buzzster? and asked-yelled if he could borrow the vacuum.

Did Arthur have any faith in the spirit that it would listen to him? In hindsight, that answer should've been a no, but he yanked the contraption by the nozzle anyway; the compartment clattering on creaky wheels behind him. He could swear that he heard muffled yelling from behind him.

Once he got back to his counter, Mugan was waiting dutifully as Arthur set the machine to reverse. Thankfully, there was no dust in there except for magic dust, and in a reverse spiral cloud of smoky gray came a genie-shaped spirit, who actually thanked the trainer for freeing it before flipping birds at Buzzster. "Dear child, do you have a wish for me to grant?"

Arthur didn't miss a beat, ❝I just need you to get the feathers off this bird.❞

Grinning from ear to ear, the wind spirit made it so, whipping a calculated storm that plucked the feathers off the Lord, carrying it upwards into the invisible ceiling before disappearing into nothingness. A few of the feathers were blown back to Arthur's hands. "Greed is unbecoming of me." he sneered while holding a singular feather in what looked like a hand. Its top half then suddenly combusted into a purplish flame before the spirit opened his palm and killed the fire. He then flew off into the crowds, blending perfectly into the den of eyes.

❝…huh. Guess that worked.❞

Now the corpse in front of him was looking more like meat. Armed with a knife as well as the guidance and power of game logic, he was able to separate each part into decent chunks. It was not clean, but it helped that the blood was golden, and the game probably kept its amount in check. He made sure to return the Druddigon before he continued further, as he was pretty sure the dragon was salvitating while watching him…

With that, it was now time to decide on recipes. Light, heavy, and then sweet. He quickly flicked through those that could use Lord's meat, and soon settled on three. Arthur then got to work with gathering additional ingredients for later use: silver and gray feathers for either garnish or presentation, fresh blood for sauces or bases, and most importantly, the Lord's soul, which could be broken into a number of other things: memories, experiences, intense emotions…

He set the soul aside in a bowl as he was not sure how to use it yet (it was a large orb reminiscent of the sun, except it was colored bright purple on its outermost rim and cyan going inward, like a flame). The other parts were split generously, and Arthur mused what it would be like to eat fried eagle legs. The game certainly made this easier and faster - it also censored and skipped some of the more gristly details, which he appreciated.

The head, cuts of breast, thighs, wings, legs down to the sharp talons that could slice his skin if he was not careful, various bones, the heart…he would not be able to use all of them, but it was a harvest that could feed plenty. He hoped it was enough to feed Chanda Mama.

The Entree

The first was the breast.

When Arthur held the Lord's soul before placing it in a metal bowl, he got a glimpse of a life that was a far cry from his own, and yet feeling emotions that were somehow familiar. If he closed his eyes, he remembered the sound of a sword cutting through air, narrowly missing the neck, and men shouting, horse hooves slamming onto the soil, the clash of steel and red blood splatter.

The Lord was a [tangent=knees bent on the red carpet put the past behind you, lord, lord, you are a savior]hero[/tangent], it seemed.

Arthur first began to clean the breast by running it over water and taking off any missed feathers and weird filmy, slimy stuff (he was following the instructions that the game told him - there was a tutorial portion that answered specific questions related to cooking, like "Do I need to do anything to this breast before I cook it?"). He then set it aside to prepare the seasoning. For this one, he brought out his Vulpix to help him search through the spice rack for what he needed, for now making sure to stick the recipe of star anise, cinnamon, and peppers. These were retrieved by the fire type with her mouth, as they were in tiny glass jars.

But by now, he knew that this was not going to be enough. He had to put feeling into it, literally. He had no memories of victory, especially as sharp and powerful as the one he saw in the Lord's, that came to mind, and so had to focus on emotions instead. Perhaps the brown sugar could be used for its sweet-tasting conquest, and the salt for richness and luxury, something that he was much more familiar with. He tried to make sure not to mix his own envy in there; otherwise, it could ruin the taste.

With the spice mixture completed, he would spread some of it on a tray before placing the breast pieces carefully on it. It was then a matter of sprinkling the rest of the mixture over the meat so that it was properly covered. After that, he washed his hands and then wrapped the spice-covered breasts in cling wrap before popping it in the fridge, which had time-bending qualities in it. Basically, he had ten or so minutes to prepare everything else before those pieces were ready to be cut and served.

That left everything else.

He pulled out a circular wooden board before half-jogging to the cheese storage. On the left were the most conventional ones; names that he recognized from eating in many expensive restaurants, buffets, and dinners, but as his eyes moved to the right, their titles progressively became more abstract. Should a Cheese Wheel of Fortune have sixteen slices with different colors and textures? He decided to pick the safe ones first (he had no knowledge of balance, he just picked his favorites: white cheddar, gouda, brie, blue cheese…maybe pass on the burrata; it did not seem suitable).

Arthur furrowed his brows. The Miltank serving him had a straight face, tongs somehow being held by her hooves.

He ended up picking a purple slice from the Cheese Wheel of Fortune and a cheese that resembled a golden brick (the Miltank swore it was edible). With that haul, he went back to his counter and started to slice up the cheese into cubes (while eating one or two along the way; he also fed a few to Rou who was very curious about the taste). He asked the Vulpix to use her innate psychic powers to stack them neatly into something that resembled a broken wall while also including ramekins for the softer cheeses.

Then they needed fruits and nuts. Grapes from the proverbial grapevine seemed fine (each grape was of a different color, and when Arthur tried to eat one, he was suddenly hit with a voice and a rumor. Odd), and the nuts were, again, what he preferred: almonds and cashews. Oh wait, the recipe asked for pears? He quickly asked Rou to fetch him one before using a contraption to slice it into pieces while removing the core. Right, that should be enough for this portion.

Thinking that the breast alone would not be sufficient meat, he went to a nearby endless freezer containing fresh cuts. After getting blasted by cold air, he asked the attending Smoochum for sausage cuts from the Lord's enemies. The little psychic type nodded once, ran deeper into the magical freezer, and then handed him some mysterious red meat. Hm. He was afraid to try this one.

Thanking the Smoochum before closing the door, he went back and sliced the sausage thinly, or what seemed appropriate, and then piled them a little over the other like toppled-over dominos.

Back to the breasts - Arthur pulled them out from the fridge (cold!), carefully removed the cling wrap, and then rinsed them in the sink. After that, he tried once again to slice the meat as thinly as he could (it definitely looked awkward and not even, but it would have to do. Did it matter if it was all going to someone's stomach?) With that, he made sure to lay this out at the center of the board, shaped like an arc, with the cheese wall behind it.

The Main Course

The second was the head.

It was not meant to be purely symbolic - when Arthur picked up the soul sitting in a bowl, it was like he touched something so hot that it even bypassed his Kindler trait. Images flooded through his mind like a movie, but they also slipped through like sand on his fingers. One particular moment stuck out to him: a head on a plate, served to someone sitting on a throne. Was that the lord's head? An enemy? A friend?

Anyway, whichever way he took it, Arthur decided it the dish would be ironic or something.

But there were not a lot of dishes that incorporated a full head. In fact, most of them were in soups, and usually it was for presentation. Well, he felt like Chanda Mama would eat a head because she could - her pink and fluffy exterior couldn't hide her vicious power, after all. Thus, even if his soup flopped in the previous round, he would give it another try, hoping to be able to flavor it better with something more palatable to the dungeon master's appetite.

Some of the bones were already poking out of the meat that he chopped, so he gathered those and pulled out some more (the ribs were huge, close to the size of his whole arm, it looked like) before throwing them together into a magic pot to boil into stock. As the fire burned and cauldron bubbled, he cleaned the feet and put the pair in a stockpot filled with water, turned the heat way way up, and then put the lid over it to get it into a boil.

(The recipe said to prepare stock…maybe he should've just cheated and use a chicken cube? Hm, but that didn't feel authentic. Also, he was not sure if the Lord tasted like chicken).

Arthur made sure to set the time-warping dials properly before fishing out the pair of feet. He then let Rou breathe a targeted Ember onto his knife to chop off the talons (putting that aside for potential use later). After that, he removed the bones from the other stock and strained it by putting it on a table that helped him tilt the container (because it was huge). Some of this was going to be soup base, the rest a back up plan.

The bird stock was relegated to a smaller pot that was set to gently simmer before he tossed chopped garlic, ginger, and onions, dried red dates, and a smattering of salt. He tried to put enough soup to cover the feet fully, but they were so huge (bigger than his hand outstretched) that it peeked out of the container.

Hmm. It needed a more personal touch. Glancing at the stuff he harvested so far, he decided to place the fiery feather in replacement of a leaf and a few drops of golden blood. Curiously, it turned out that the feather was heat resistant, but not exactly water proof. He also decided to nick his finger and put a few drops of his own blood for good measure, because if he was going to serve the Lord to Chanda Mama, he might as well serve himself too.

Oh, right, can't forget the head. He lowered it carefully and let it simmer with the feet. He could leave that be before serving.

Just Desserts

The last was the soul.

Returning to it a third time, Arthur was shocked to see that the soul had taken a different form. Instead of a sphere, it had filled up most of the bowl and risen slightly, almost like purple-cyan dough. As it turned out, when he touched it, the texture definitely felt like dough, but it was also filled with more memories, experiences, emotions, dreams. What could have beens, where he had failed, wishes, selfish and selfless, and in the center of it all, a cold, aching loneliness.

Arthur wondered for a moment if he too had a soul, and if their feelings held hands for a brief moment, as if trying to find a connection. Hand-in-hand, emotions were intensified before retreating back to where they belonged. Was a part of him now with the dough? He didn't have the answer to that.

He [tangent=He also washed his hands prior to handling the soul dough]cleaned the area[/tangent] and plopped the dough onto a rectangular board. Using a new knife, he cut it into three large pieces, ensuring that dreams of flying were separated from the emotion of yearning. These pieces had different predominant colors, but they had accent streaks, running across the dough like embedded constellations. From there, he got a rolling pin and flattened them, and then he shaped them into a long thin sausage. He cut them into tinier pieces and asked Rou for help (after washing her paws) to roll them into balls.

This part actually took the longest, rolling everything until he had three different soul bobas in a bowl. And then he needed to ask help from an attending ice type (he had no idea what it was, it looked like a living iceberg) to help him with the shaved ice machine. That was put in a pristine white bowl, and as he was low on time, he decided to grab the Bug Catcher's Honey from a previous round and a premade bean mixture to use as the sweet sauce. He poured it over, creating a mountain, and then spooned the boba surrounding it.

As an extra touch, he decided to get some gold shavings and sprinkle that over, because the dish had to look fancier somehow.

Presentation

On a steel cart, Arthur carefully set the charcuterie board and the shaved ice before pouring the soup into a nicer looking, silver bow, adorned with swirls and patterns on its rim. Both feet overlapped one another, as if praying, with the head sitting on the top center, half submerged. Unsure of what else to add and with the timer close to finish, he decided to wheel it to Chanda Mama for her verdict.

He took in a deep breath before exhaling, still feeling the cold snake in him.

❝Chanda Mama, I present the following dishes.

The Breast of the Hero,

The Head in a Silver Bowl,

and the Soul Crushed in Ice.

I hope that they're to your liking.❞ he could feel his heart thumping loudly, but he tried to keep his cool - after all, the worst he could get was a low score, right? ❝I'd, uh, also like to use my points to buy a Map Piece. Thank you.❞

<< Party >>

      

Arthur submits a full course meal (see list below)

"Cooking with inedible bullshit is always a bit difficult," Buzzster said, chewing his lip as he looked at the strange, fibrous and fabric-esque leek that he had to somehow make into a main course.

"It looks like it's made of cotton?" said Petal.

"Yeah...and it's a bloody vegetable too! Listen, I think I've got an idea. You grab the mixing bowl, a few eggs, heirloom onions, streaky bacon, and some of that 2% dragon milk, and I'll get to work on this."

"Okay!" Petal said enthusiastically, and she ran off into the pantry.

Buzzster licked the leek.

He made sure to taste every part of it, getting a feeling for the wealth of earthy and textile flavors that were present. It tasted fascinating. He could taste rough dirt and fragrant rains from where the leek was grown. There was an ashy aftertaste from the forge where the sword was crafted. He tasted the sweat of many hands and the blood of many more.

"Could use salt," he surmised. Knocking through the cupboards he quickly found a grinder of salt, a matching grinder for pepper, and a third-wheel grinder for lies.

Petal returned with all the ingredients balanced on her leaf. "I got it all!" she said.

"Wonderful! Now get the eggs, milk, and butter all mixed up, then toss in the bacon and onions. Cook it on medium heat and in a few minutes we'll have an omelette!"

"What about the leek?" Petal said.

"Huh? Nah I gotta save that for the cooking contest! Go on Petal I'm getting peckish! Cooking's hungry work."

Back on track, Buzzster set about with the rest of his complicated seasoning routine.

"People don't know this, but the secret to a perfect main course is all about the seasoning," Buzzster said. He was embracing his newfound Perfect Taste, and he could feel his mind and tongue expanding, unlocking new heights of culinary majesty.

"That rainy taste is great, but we need to keep it moving or else it'll get stagnant." He rifled through the utensil drawers and pulled out a map of the Colorado river, which he wrapped the leek in. "Perfect!"

"New we need a dash of something sweet and strong to offset the bitter iron. Honey? No. Molasses! And that ash would go really well with a proper charcoal grill."

Petal grilled nearby, cooking the omelette while she watched Buzzster work. She admired him, and absorbed every word like her mind was a knowledge-hungry vacuum cleaner and Buzzster's advice was a swarm of small and highly-intellectual wasps.

"What was that powder?" she asked, squinting at the freshly-ground lies that Buzzster was now massaging into the leek. The grains smelled like Christmas, bedtimes, and travel insurance.

Buzzster licked some of the lies off his finger. "I think it's just MSG."

Once the massaging was done, he laid the chunky middle section on a cutting board and sliced it into thick rounds. When he was done he had a tray full of perfect little tassel medallions.

"It's done!" Petal said, using her vines to present Buzzster with the fresh omelette.

"Oh awesome! Thanks! Just put it in my mouth," he said, "my hands are all greasy." Buzzster's arms were slick with vegetable oil. He was straddling an anvil, slathering the whole thing down with enough lubricant to turn the Grand Canyon into a slip-n-slide.

Petal tried to cram the whole omelette into Buzzster's open mouth. Bits of bacon and onion fell from his mouth like breakfast rain as he hastily chewed the eggy treat.

Once the anvil was lubed, he went over to a cabinet labelled DANGEROUS INGREDIENTS and retrieved a bucket of what looked like searing lava. "You know, it's only the young insects who are called lava," Buzzster said, as he poured a thin trickle of the flaming liquid onto the anvil. It sunk into the metal, heating it instantly to a brilliant white heat. "Once they pupate they grows wings and becomes magma!"

He placed the first leek medallions down on the anvil. It hissed and smoked and filled the air with the sounds of fighting. "This isn't that though. This time I used the Heat of Battle, for that authentic flavor."

Buzzster left Petal in charge of the anvil grill, and he went to find a loom. He dragged it out into the kitchen area.

"Buzzster! Help! The leeks are coming apart!" Petal yelled, as she desperately tried to turn them over with a pair of tongs.

"All according to plan!" Buzzster called back. He ran over and scooped up the medium-rare leek segments, which were unraveling in the heat of battle. It wasn't uncommon for even a seasoned fighter to come apart in such a situation. Buzzster used a pair of forks to split them apart into long, luxurious strands, and he set to looming.

A few minutes before time ran out, Buzzster was finished plating. He gleefully brought his own dish over to Morpheus and Bergamot Gristleborg, placing it beside their Appetizer and Dessert. "Petal and I started out with a piece of the blade tassel. It looked just like a big old leek," Buzzster explained, when it was his turn to describe his dish. "So we seasoned it to perfection, chopped it up into little portions, cooked it until it broke down into little threads, then we wove those threads back together into...." he whipped the cover off his dish, dramatically revealing a large, pristine, 8ft long tapestry that depicted Chanda Mama eating a beautiful leek-based meal and then awarding them a perfect score.

"Ta-da!" said Petal.

"It's semi-autobiographical," said Buzzster.

Ruby felt pretty confident that she was getting the hang of this. Maybe one day, she could even make a living doing some baking? It was a cute little daydream, but perhaps nothing more than that. Even still, it got her thinking...

Did Mom have a Job? Or did she somehow survive off of all the potential life insurance policies taken out on the numerous amounts of husbands she's had, that have... probably died? Maybe? She decided to stop thinking about it, and instead watched all the purchases everyone else did spread around.

Of course, at the sabotage, Ruby couldn't help but frown. Being limited to ingredients of only a few letters definitely harmed far more than it hurt. And yet, if she could somehow make something fantastic despite it, well that would only make her look even better, wouldn't it? Even still, she was having fun. She'd hum to herself looking over all the ingredients that remained, finding them oddly... gone? But not fully. It was as if, somehow, she knew that as soon as she decided her letters, those and those only would show.

What a curious feeling.

At the final purchase, hers, she can't help but grin back out of total curiosity. What in the world was that growling, guttural sounds? Like the belly of a beast that had long gone hungry, and needed to devour. It was almost a bit intimidating, was she being handed a terrifying monster?

Maybe she should have thought twice about her purchase, seeing what everything else was.

Her curiosity continued to grow, even though it was tempered with the growing fear, the roaring sound almost overwhelming until she was tossed the keys.

"... What?"

A true to life motorcycle. She blinked in surprise, stunned, before laughter overtook her. It had been so long since she had heard an engine running, she had almost forgotten! With an excited grin, she’d tuck the keys into her pockets for later. As fun as it would be to immediately investigate her reward, she still had a competition to finish!

Seeing people working together this time, Ruby swiftly turned her attention over towards orioncayge. It seemed they had the same intention, and her own grin slowly widened. “You’re not kitten around, are you? Of course. Let’s get to work, huh? We got limited ingredients, but together? We got so much more.”

Desert

As orioncayge’s own Typhlosian lit the flames with some ghostly souls, Ruby couldn’t help but grin. “I think some sliders as the first meal sounds super lovely! Tenth Lives don’t exist. But, clearly one does, because it’s our ingredient! So might as well be creative with it.” She’d hum in thought, debating on what to start on herself. “What about a pie? Baking seems to be my specialty, so I might as well stick with it. We can make it like, the growth of life. Something, simple, something humble, at the end of it all.”

She’d summon her own Pokemon, Murmur the Munna, to help out. The lazy Pokemon rolled around in the air, but she was quick to put them to work. “Grab me a pie tin, will you? Sorting through everything is gonna take some time. Gotta have to make a few decisions and find other ingredients.”

Digging through, Ruby collected a bag of Flour, and then F was locked in. Surely, F could be important later, right? Shrugging, she started working on making the dough. Only to realize, water was hard to come by. She frowned, slowly looking around when she finally found something. A can of Liquid Sunlight. With S’s now locked down, she began to mix together the dough, grinning to herself as Murmur eventually came back with the tin.

“Great, can you-” She’d hand the rolling pin over to the Munna, as Orion asked for some S’s. With a grin, she’d suddenly start searching, digging through what remained of her ingredients. It felt like more were suddenly there, with two letters decided. “Lucky for you, I just got S! Let’s see, Sugar! Ooh, gonna need that too. Moon Rock Salt still, must be good stuff. A few semi-translucent blocks of Soul- ooh, they’re kind of wiggly. And I still have some Sunflower Seeds from earlier!” She’d carry her collection of ingredients, placing them down next to Orion and helping him with his sliders for a moment, before swiftly returning back to her own baking.

By the time she returned, Murmur had already flattened all the dough, already placing it into the tin. It caught her completely by surprise, seeing them actually working! They were normally impossibly lazy! But apparently, only when not observed. Cheeky! She’d laugh softly, reaching up to pat the Pokemon. “You’re doing great. Now, time to find the filling.”

Both Ruby and Murmur would look around, finding some Strawberries to provide the base of the filling, but this was the final round! Just fruit alone wouldn’t suffice! The pie was supposed to represent the end, the finale. What would someone be thinking about, or want in their last times? A small tub of spreadable Family, to be there with them. A container of Forgiveness in spice form for those they had wronged, and from those that had wronged them. A teaspoon of Smiles, a spoonful of Sugar, and heaping helpful of Baking Time. Not Baking Thyme this time, Baking Time. T’s locked in. Not to forget, Some of the Tenth Life of a Cat was mixed in with everything too. To really pull everything together, the memories, the sensations of a life, well lived, well loved. Once it was all mixed together, she placed it in the oven lit by Orion’s Typhlosion and stepped back, smiling.

“That’s gonna take some time!” Ruby would grin over at Orion. “Once it’s done, think you can add the final touches?”

Main Dish

“I think we should do a stew for the Main Course,” Ruby began, smiling softly. “But, maybe lean into the sadness? A life long lived, ten times over, but there’s plenty to mourn for. For friends and family gone by. Maybe it realizes that life must end at some point, that there's a reason it's only ever nine. Might really pull out the flavor in the Tenth Life. What do you think?”

He disagreed, of course. But maybe that was for the best? It certainly wasn’t a bad idea to do the opposite, something full of joy.. Both options had merit. She hummed in thought for a few seconds, only for him to suggest a coin flip. “Sounds good, we can work with that! Alright, I call heads!”

And then the coin flipped up into the air.

Murmur the Munna floated nearby, glancing at the two trainers and the coin shimmering in the open air as it fell, before closing its eyes as a bright light shone from behind their eyelids. A Future Sight dancing before them in their mind’s eye, projecting it out before them. One possible future shown before the world.

Main Dish?

“Heads!” Ruby would presumably grin for a moment, only to suddenly put on a forced pout, putting on her saddest face. No glee when making a sorrowful dish! She would likely twist about back to the kitchen, grabbing the pot and beginning to combine everything. She could have started with the basics, the mundane things, the building blocks of the tomato and sausage sorrow stew. Tomato and Sausage. Gently passing Orion the Sausage to maybe slice and saute in the pot, Ruby herself focused on possibly getting all the rest of the ingredients together.

Presuming the future, Ruby could put out a small bowl of Crushed Tomatoes and then hunt down for some of the more esoteric ingredients through their sparse shelves. A few shavings of Raw Sadness could be possibly be grated like cheese, or potentially measuring out the right amount of Well-Deserved Tears, all from a good cry that always makes you feel better, as the stew base instead of water, and then a few crystalised Memorable Flashbacks that she would have to crush together in a mortar and pestle to truly bring out the flavor. Likely not fully satisfied with just that, she could follow that up by grabbing a few stalks of Haunting Farewells and then slicing them into long thin strips to cook properly.

Just cutting through them alone would almost certainly make Ruby’s own tears drip down her cheeks. The emotions would be intense, washing over her like a wave. And yet, it seemed like it would only reaffirm her decisions. Something good, didn’t have to be happy. Sometimes, even the best stories needed a deep, sad emotional moment in the middle of the book to truly draw you in, to make you think about your life. Her eyes would glance over at Orion, who at this point in such a possibility could have already lowered the Tenth Life of a Cat into the pot to let the flavors really melt and cover the sliced sausages.

“Alright, let’s get everything mixed, and then we’re gonna have to let it properly heat up. Maybe we can work on something else in the meantime?” Ruby possibly said, and in this reality she’d move to carefully add everything into the pot, stirring it all together before placing the lid atop. The stew would need to cook for quite a while to really bring out all the flavors, embracing the deep sorrow and emotional hints deep within.

Main Dish

“The stew is looking great!” Ruby spoke, grinning ear to ear as she’d move to give Orion a high five. “We really cooked with that one, huh?”

Murmur blinked, looking forwards. The stew sat atop the stove, being cooked by the heat from the Infernal Parade from the Typhlosian, lid already sealed tight. Had they somehow missed what they actually did? What truly happened? The Munna tilted, slowly floating over, curious to look, but… Perhaps they shouldn’t. Maybe not knowing was for the best.

Appetizer

It was her time to garnish the Sliders, and quite frankly she was at a loss. Burgers weren’t really her forte! Sliders were just like, little burgers right? Or something like that. And she had already locked in her letters, S, F, and T. That didn’t really leave a whole lot of options that she knew what to do with. She hummed in frustration, glancing up at the clock, slowly losing second after second. It was easy to get distracted, lost in her thoughts thinking about the metaphorical, the physical and the literal, the emotional and the debatable, all things that were real, but not real. This competition was doing weird things to her head.

She was suddenly poked by a strange Lollipop from Bergamot Gristleborg and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, is it like that? You know what-” Ruby was suddenly committed, the healthy competition driving her to immediately get back to work.

She’d take what remained of the Tenth Life of a Cat, and carving out the youngest parts and placing them atop a plate nearby in very thin slices. The playful aspects, the eager and excited. It had just escaped its Ninth death, the final. And now, it was getting cocky. It was ready to play with death, like a little game. And that was the very energy she wanted to imbue within the dish. Taking the slices, she’d roast them on a skillet, soaking in the flavors of a Fortune and Freedom sauce she had mixed together, soaking in deep. Death was no longer a challenge to this Cat, it had surpassed its limits, and ready to sprint into the sunset, with not even a single ounce of Fear added to the dish.

Getting lost in her own mental metaphors, she eventually placed the slices atop the sliders, and began working on plating everything in the last few minutes. It was a rush and whirlwind of energy, carefully putting everything out with a wide grin on her face.


The Second Chance Sliders carefully plated and stacked atop a plate. The Schrodinger’s Stew still left in its pot, but with a bowl and ladle left beside to serve oneself. It just, felt right? And the Humble Pie had one single slice cut out, resting slightly away from the whole atop its own serving platter. “I gotta say, Orion?” She’d reach over, leaning her arm on top of her Munna as she slipped them a single little spoon of sugar. “I think we did a good job. Regardless of what happens? This was fun.”

She glanced at the clock, one of the last two Map Pieces had already been purchased. Seriously debating for a few moments, she'd suddenly speak up at the very last second, having to convince herself to do so, rolling the idea around in her head for what felt like forever. It sounded like an adventure... And she could use a few more of those. "I'd like to buy a map!"