alas, it's not omelettes

[lovetheme]

His stay in this castle has gotten a lot longer than expected.

Which is a bit worrying for a variety of different reasons. But then there's the more practical concerns of being trapped in a magical castle, too--like the fact that most of the food to be found so far consists of either fruits from the garden or cakes from the ballroom, mostly. (Cakes with strange not-edible things inside them...) And that's just...not enough, honestly. A growing boy is a perpetually hungry one, and there's a lot to be said for the lack of actual meals lately.

But today Lucas finally stumbles into a kitchen in his wanderings. It's disappointingly ghost-free, much the way the rest of the castle has been--he wonders what Duster would think of all this--but still, the room is large, and there are pots and utensils hung across the walls, and vegetables in the cabinets. ...Perfectly fresh vegetables. Which is pretty odd, but...everything else about this place is odd already. Lucas sets them out on the counter anyway.

Because he does know how to cook, a bit. Flint would often be away for multiple days at a time, and so Lucas is mostly self-taught, using advice from fellow villagers and experimenting a bit on his own...after three years, putting together a decent vegetable stew isn't too hard at all. There's a wood stove that's easy enough to light a fire in, and there's water here and a large pot there...

And so visitors might be drawn in by a faint but pleasant smell, wafting through the open kitchen doorway. Lucas is found standing at a counter (on top of a tall stool, so that he can actually reach everything), carefully chopping more assorted vegetables with a knife while a large pot simmers gently on the stove nearby. He's humming to himself very softly, but is otherwise absorbed in deep concentration as he tries to get these vegetable chunks just the right size, and doesn't notice anyone coming in or watching just yet.

Comments

[sansational]

Sans stirs only sluggishly at first, when Lucas prods him. "mrphgl...five more minutes, bro..." It's the smell that finally rouses him properly. Strange dreams aside, the soup smells undeniably better than anything Papyrus was ever skilled enough to make. He lifts his head to stare blearily at Lucas for a moment, reaching up to rub the sleep from his eyesockets.

When his fist comes away smudged a little blue, he stares at it in faint alarm and embarrassment, before hastily looking away to scrub rather harder at his face. "hey, uh, thanks, kid. smells even better now."

Thus composed, Sans turns his full attention onto the soup. He finds himself taking a deep breath, just...holding the steam in his skull for a moment. Then dips his spoon into the soup and stares at it thoughtfully before taking a bite.

Immediately, he can tell that this is a very healthy soup. It's the sort of food he normally avoids like the plague on general principle, even here where the castle has left his options somewhat limited. But beyond just being a healthy vegetable soup, it's...

...home and warm and save and loved and it goes right down to his soul in a way that nothing else here has.

Before Sans realizes it, he's swallowed another spoonful, and another, like he hasn't eaten properly in weeks. In a very real way, he hasn't.

"...wow."

[lovetheme]

Bro...'bro'? Short for brother, almost definitely--and there's a very odd sort of squeezing feeling in Lucas's chest, for a moment, before Sans stirs and lifts his head and Lucas puts that feeling away. There is something odd and--blue? Around Sans's...eyesockets....but Sans seems visibly abashed about this, upon discovering it himself, and Lucas tries his best not to stare too much or make any comment on it.

Instead he nods a bit, stepping back. "Yes, it does. I added in a few more spices, and things..."

And then Lucas drifts away to fill his own bowl while Sans orients himself. (The thought comes unbidden, odd and sad--can skeletons cry too?)

Lucas brings a full bowl back to the table himself while Sans seems to be preparing with a first spoonful. Sitting down opposite him, Lucas can't help but...stare a bit, watching Sans swallow it. ...Sort of? Probably? It finally occurs to Lucas that he had no idea skeletons could even eat, and the first most obvious question is--well--but it doesn't seem to be falling right through Sans or anything...?

These deep and important questions of life are momentarily forgotten, however, as Sans...proceeds to scarf down another spoonful, and another, with a reaction that's--pretty intense, to say the least. Lucas blinks over his own bowl, spoon poised, expression uncertain but also faintly hopeful. That was probably a good 'wow'. ...Right?

"...Um. Is it--alright?"

[sansational]

The substance is a rather deep blue, especially visible against the white of his skull. The remnants are opaque, and almost seem more viscous than human tears might. But they've also gathered around his eyesockets the way tearstains might on a human face.

At least the soup proves a more-than-sufficient distraction from that little embarrassment, leaving Sans feeling revitalized from the dream and maybe from a great many other things, too.

It does not seem to be falling right through Sans. He puts the food in his mouth, goes through all the motions of chewing and swallowing despite, by rights, having nothing to swallow with. At which point the food just seems to...vanish from inside his mouth.

"s'good." Which is a rather significant understatement. Sans speaks around a full mouth. "almost as good as monster food. you use magic on this?"

[lovetheme]

Vanish...yes....the food really does seem to be just vanishing. But where does it all go?? Lucas has a feeling he won't be able to stop himself from asking for very long, at this rate.

But Sans's words do help put that question off for just a little longer, too. The compliments are pretty simple ones, but combined with the tone and the way Sans is continuing to scarf it all down, Lucas is already turning a bit pink at the praise.

"Oh...then, I'm glad. That it's good." Good as monster food? That's probably a pretty good thing indeed, if Sans is comparing it to food from his own home. But--wait--and Lucas pauses, looking faintly confused. "Magic, though? ...I'm not sure? Just--vegetables mostly. And some spices I found in the cupboard...?"

He wasn't actively trying to make anything particularly extraordinary, at any rate. Unless magic is something that can accidentally end up in food you cook, sometimes--even PSI magic? Maybe...

[sansational]

Sans doesn't speak again until he has the bowl half-empty. He certainly feels energized enough to explain, but on the other hand, it's really good soup.

"monster food isn't like human food. it's..." He waves his spoon in the air, as though trying to tease the thoughts in his skull. "...less physical. like we are. a lot more magic and energy. you don't even have to go through all of that mess with digesting it, either." Which Sans can only see as an upside. A stomach just seems like a lot of dead weight and mess, to him.

"and that should be okay for you guys to eat, but...all the food here is human food. we can eat it, since we have to, but it's...not as good." He, at least, has to use some magic to even make it possible to digest, which results in a much smaller return on energy.

Tapping the spoon idly against his skull, now, he regards Lucas thoughtfully. "i don't think you'd need to deliberately do anything. monsters with healing magic don't need to, uh, heal the food, or anything. it's just...something about you." He gestures at Lucas, before smiling faintly.

"though, uh, the fact that your mom taught you this...might make a difference, too. emotion and intentions mean a lot, to us. usually for worse. sometimes for better." Good memories were as good as a fine spice. Even sad ones could add their own sort of flavor.

[lovetheme]

Lucas listens with visible, focused interest as Sans begins to explain how 'monster food' apparently isn't just a term for food from home, for him. A different kind of food altogether, apparently--magical food. For monsters, who are...magical beings, he supposes? That makes sense. And no need to digest would finally sort of explain Sans's apparent knack for making food vanish upon ingestion despite his obvious hollow skeleton status.

Apparently magic food can be made on accident, too, which is news to Lucas; his expression shifts from interest to surprise, as Sans goes on. Just--'something about him'? He is pretty good at healing skills, he guesses, but...

Sans mentions Mom, and Lucas pauses, before finally dropping his stare down from Sans to his bowl instead. He's quiet for a second or so after Sans finishes speaking, in favor of finally trying a spoonful of the soup for himself.

--It tastes...alright. Like a perfectly average sort of soup.

"...Mom's soup was even better. Not--sure I'll ever be able to make it quite the same." But Lucas does look back up at Sans, with a very small smile. "But...that does make sense. If that's how it is for monsters. ...If it's really good for you, it's definitely doing its job. So, that's--that's really good to hear. That it helps so much."

[sansational]

"it does. thanks, kid. and...thanks for talking to me." He offers what is, for Sans, a tiny smile in return. It's plain to him that this was not an easy conversation for either of them. But from where he's sitting, it feels like it helped him. At the least, it feels like it worked a few metaphorical knots out of his head.

Still, it looks as though Lucas still has a few more difficult thoughts to wrestle with. And so Sans is quiet, but for a fair amount of appreciative slurping, as he finishes up his bowl.

By which point, he's thought of something else to ask, at least after he wipes off his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

"do, uh...do you think you could make some for my brother, sometime? he calls himself 's-4', here, instead of papyrus. but in the time he comes from, he's still kind of a babybones and he wasn't really getting enough to eat." Not the sort of food that a growing monster should be getting, at least. Even an artificially grown monster. "i've been trying to fix that, but like i said - most of the food here isn't that great for us anyway. doesn't stick like it should. or, hey, if you're busy, maybe you can teach me how to make it?"

[lovetheme]

"You're welcome." He can pick up on the small smile, there, and that's appreciated too; at any rate, it seems that they've both come out of this very unexpected conversation for the mostly better. Lucas shrugs a little. "--It was nice. Being able to talk about it. ...Haven't for awhile..."

Even if it had only been this bit--even if neither of them had really gotten into the details of everything. But knowing there is somebody else here, that does sort of understand--even if he found out on accident, mostly--it's still...nice. A little less lonely, maybe.

Which isn't to say that Lucas isn't still somewhat preoccupied, with some things...but Sans lets the quiet settle, and Lucas uses it to move those thoughts aside for awhile. Sans's slurping is joined by Lucas's much quieter and more careful ones, for awhile, and by the time Sans does speak up again Lucas looks up with a considerably cleared expression.

--Though--wiping his mouth like that...ah....Lucas stares at the unfortunate sleeve for a moment, wondering if maybe he should have dug up some napkins after all. (Sans isn't much for table manners, it seems...) But that's soon forgotten, as Sans asks his question. Lucas blinks, surprised.

"For your brother?" For Papyrus, then--the other Papyrus, right...or, S-4, as Sans goes on to clarify. Lucas nods quickly, perking up just a bit. "Oh, sure...I wouldn't mind at all. I'm, actually, not very busy usually..." There isn't a lot to do, in the castle, and Lucas has whiled away a lot of time just trying to explore and--more fruitlessly, lately--maybe find a way to someplace else. This confession is somewhat sheepish. "But, if you can't find me or you're in a hurry--I could tell you how to make it too, yes. Then you can make it for yourself and anybody else too, if you want."

[sansational]

Sans gives this offer some due consideration. On the one hand, for all that Lucas seems mildly unimpressed with his own efforts, Sans isn't at all certain he would be able to do better. His cooking skills are limited and specific.

On the other hand, thinking back to his experiment with the hot dogs, S-4 had reacted better than anyone else. There were a lot of potential reasons for that - food made by a monster for a monster was monster food by most definitions, and their souls were very similar. But mostly, Sans wondered if that same effect might make soup for his brother especially as effective if it came from him. At the least, it could make up the difference.

"y'know, why don't you? this is kind of an unpredictable place, after all. good to be prepared, right?" He goes rummaging in one pocket, only to pull his hand back sharply as the contents squeak. Whoops, wrong pocket.

Fortunately, the other pocket turns up his notebook and pen.

[lovetheme]

"Yeah...preparation is good. Never know what might happen..." And the more people who know how to make soup the better, probably. Or something like that.

Still, though, Lucas hadn't actually expected Sans to already have a pen and notebook and everything--that's really handy...but once it's apparent that he's ready to start jotting things down Lucas straightens.

"But--okay, so..."

Slowly, Lucas begins listing off ingredients first. Most of the choices in vegetables had honestly been somewhat slapdash, consisting of what he could find immediately in the kitchen, but it's a fair variety of them and he points out which cupboard he found each kind in too. Spices come after that, mostly salt and pepper and--the mystery spice, which Lucas spends a few moments fumbling over before he finally opts to just get up and dig out the little bottle for Sans to examine for himself. (It's garlic, as it turns out.) Then he goes over the general procedure, how much water goes in the pot and how the vegetables ought to be portioned.

No numbers for measurements, or anything--everyone cooked by sight and smell back home, for the most part. (Well, before--things like measuring cups starting cropping up. But Mom never got to see any of those, and Lucas had never tried them either.) But Lucas is slow and careful with his directions all the same, glad to answer any questions Sans might have. And he's distinctly happier, as he goes on; it's nice, being helpful with such a nice thing. It feels like he hasn't been very useful for much of anything in a long time. (This may also be the most he's talked in...a little while--)

"Though, I'm sure you could probably add other things too if you want," he finishes, folding his arms on the table with a smile that's a little bigger now. "I ended up using things I found in here, but there's a lot of room in vegetable soup for other things that taste nice too. I think, it's a sort of thing you can mess around with a lot..."

[sansational]

Sans actually turns out to be capable of taking notes quite quickly - it helps to have a shorthand (or at least it's a shorthand from his perspective). And he turns out to have enough of a basic grasp of cooking to know why to do what without asking too many questions. Not to mention enough of a laid-back attitude under normal circumstances that "fill the pot until you think there's enough", or similar instructions, actually translate pretty well to him. Sans is too lazy for measurements, as a rule, unless proper science is involved. But he also has a trustworthy gut, metaphorically speaking, and so is comfortable making judgement calls.

Mostly, his questions involve what some of the vegetables on the table are called. Not everything a human might be familiar with could grow in the Underground, not even with the background magic. He asks how to tell if something's gone bad or rotten. It might be not an issue, here, seeing what he's starting to see of the castle and it's resets. But it's best to be sure, with this. With them. He asks for Lucas' opinion on how they might best go together, for future reference.

And he seems happier having this conversation, too. It brings up good memories, of a time before things went wrong. It sets before him a way to do something here and now and real for the people he cares about. It's hard to feel helpless, when soup is bubbling away.

"...spinach." Sans rattles the pencil thoughtfully against his skull, staring down thoughtfully at two pages of scrawled notes. "spinach is good for skeletons. i mean, i hate spinach. so much." He shudders in theatrical revulsion. "but it's good for skeletons."