Welcome to Gaia! ::

Seren was in the kitchen, pulling out bowls, pans and other cooking tools. The counter already had a bunch of ingredients lined up in an order that worked for her, next to a chopping board with the sharpest gyuto style knife she could find in the kitchen placed with care on it. She had changed into jeans and a plain black tshirt for cooking, and her hair was tied up in a tight bun on the top of her head. She clearly was enjoying herself as she got set up, even if part of her was annoyed by the person who decided to accept her offer.

Of all the people on the island to accept, why did it have to be the person she found herself liking the least of those she had encountered? She sighed a little as she set a small mixing bowl to one side of the board, then eyed her set up. "Hmmm... yeah. Let's get this show on the road." She grabbed the green onions, and got to work chopping them into stripes.

She looked up as he came in, the knife flashing up and down in her hand. She was confident enough in what she was doing that she kept chopping while looking at him. "Lysander. Good afternoon." She said, politely, for all of her inner dislike of him, and his views on backgrounds like hers. His outfit earned him a very highly raised eyebrow, and then she refocused her eyes on what she was doing, as she was getting close to her fingertips.

"Please have a seat. I'll be getting to the actual cooking shortly. I just need to..." She paused, then sighed. "Measure things out, then measure what I've measured." She sighed, wondering how mad she sounded with that sentence from the outside. Once she finished chopping the green onions, she set them aside.

If Lysander was watching, what he'd see would look something like her taking ingredients out, putting them in a bowl temporarily, eyeing them, then either adding more or moving them to a measuring cup, before making a note on a piece of paper and then adding the measured amounts into a bowl. Finally, she pulled out the peppers and began chopping. "Pity it's raining, or I'd open the windows... Sometimes I find the oils get in the air... If your eyes start to sting, let me know, and we'll risk rain coming in. Whatever you do, do not rub them, unless you want to experience the most intensely searing pain you can imagine in your eyes. It's worse then onions."

She noticed his lack of comprehension, and somewhere in the back of her mind she found herself thinking that this was no great surprise, given what a spoiled little rich brat he'd shown himself to be. However, she managed to keep this off her face, being an expert at hiding how she felt to 'customers' from when she had, among other jobs, waited tables at a restaurant back home. She just kept chopping the chilis into a fine mince, before dumping them, soy sauce, sugar and a few other things into another bowl, and blending it up.

His words, however, regarding his experiences with the oils from hot food and taking a leak quite literally caused her to freeze up for a moment, as visuals the young woman really didn't want popped into her overly imaginative brain. She stood there for a second, the bowl cradled in one hand, the spoon still in the other. Finally, with a slightly strangled voice, she said "That sounds... extremely painful. But. You might..." She considered how to phrase this, then finally she continued "Might wish to keep in mind who was also at Dares."

Another pause, before she continued "Some of us, unfortunately, are blessed with good visual memories and imaginations that act before the rest of the brain can stop them." Her cheeks were now flaming red, as she set the sauce on the table near him, then almost ran back to the counter to work on the batter, clearly embarrassed by the fact that she had HAD that unwanted visual. Indeed, she might have been taking out her discomfort on the ingredients, because the batter was blended EXTREMELY quickly. She moved on over to the stove, and set up a pan with oils to heat.

She twitched a little at how oblivious he was to the impact he had on those around him. "Yes, well, just bits or no, some of us unfortunates... All it takes is a few keywords and a memory, and we see visuals of things we'd rather not, and unfortunately your little story decided to portray itself in my mind. I feel like I need a brain scouring." She said, still a little strangled sounding.

She took a deep breath, not wanting to freak out when she was about to be handling very hot oil, then said "Not blaming you, mind, for the fact that my brain doesn't do what I want it to do. Nor calling you ugly vis a vis the scouring, just... That particular visual is not one I think anyone wants, unless they're exceptionally disturbed in regards to kinks." She carefully put the onions in the oil, and then added the batter, before stepping back to avoid any risk of splattering.

"And indeed, I can only imagine what that might feel like on one's... personal bits." Her tone held some horror at the very idea.

"I would have to imagine." She was definitely focused on the food she was frying up, her eyes eyeing the edge of the scallion pancakes, looking for that golden brown ting, and the little bubbles that formed that indicated they were ready to be flipped.

"Ah, right, you said you didn't know on twitter, that's right." Her tone was absent as she spoke, the spatula in her hand. "They're a traditional Korean savory pancake, of sorts. Green onions, flour, some other stuff. They can be made with other ingredients added, like seafood, but I'm a sucker for this version." She made an AH sound, and her hand flipped the pancake in a smooth motion. "There's other kinds of Jeon out there, too... And I intend to start learning the more complicated recipes over time but... This one, I wanted to get down in a form I could share with some one I promised to teach... Never needed to measure the ingredients before, it's always been something I do by eye." She clearly wasn't really paying that much attention to what she was saying, her cooking had her absorbed.

He could have had a complete Mister Pouty McPoutface on, and she wouldn't have noticed at the moment, since she was facing the stove and focused on her cooking. His compliment, though, actually earned him a slight smile over her shoulder before refocusing. "I hope so, but you'll be better able to judge once you've tried the food." She flipped the pancake out, and onto a plate prepped for post frying draining.

She arched a brow at his offer of a taste tester, and mentally tried to picture Rhys and Lysander sitting next to each other at the table as she fed them tteokbokki or something like that. The part of her that found Lysander utterly irritating whispered that she should accept, and make sure he got extra gochujang in his food. She stomped on that part of her, not actually being as mean as he seemed to think she was, and said "I'll keep it in mind. I have a friend who volunteered, too, so it'll depend on availability I suppose." She frowned at his question, and said in a curious voice "That I don't know. I haven't looked it up. I know that the Japanese have Karaage... And I know..." There was a slight pause, as if she wasn't totally comfortable with her next words. "Father used to make traditional Korean Fried Chicken, so I suspect we might have something like that. I'll have to look it up, but it's not my first priority." She mmm'd as she worked on the next few pancakes.

After she got the next three done, she added "If you want to come grab the first two, they should be cool enough to eat and not burn yourself. They're the ones at the front of the plate..."

"I'll keep that in mind..." She said, an odd note to her voice. She sighed a bit, but continued cooking away until she'd finished up the whole batch of pajeon.

Because she'd been trying to get her measurements down, she'd made about a triple batch and was eyeing the number of cooling pancakes dubiously, wondering if they could actually eat them all, but she picked up the rest of them on the platter and moved over to the table, setting them down in the middle.

"Have you tried dipping them, yet?" She said casually as she took one, and proceeded to do so herself. Her eyes closed, a blissful expression on her face, as she took the bite, clearly quite happy to enjoy the products of her labor. His comment, however, had her eyes opening again, a very amused expression on her face. "Onions. Green Onions, specifically, flour, some soy paste... A few other things. It's really very simple ingredients, but flavorful." She shook her head at him, still amused. "My paternal ancestors were good at bringing out the flavors in the dishes they made."

She ate a few more, then sat back, her own appetite quite sated from the pancakes. She moved the plate closer to him, vaguely curious as to how much the man would be able to get down his gullet. Hadn't she heard somewhere that this ridiculous appetite was supposed to stop after the teens?

"Uh. That's fine? I did say you could invite him, because I figured there would be more then enough. If you're taking the dipping sauce, though, you two will have to figure out who's cleaning it when it comes back." She gave a shrug, and honestly wished Roswell had had them fresh. She liked the assistant well enough, and would rather he had them at their best.

"Mmm." Her eyes drifted to the wall, a distant expression on her face and in her voice. "Half Welsh, half Korean. My parents didn't have any interest in teaching me any other language, though father was fluent in Korean., and I never had time in school, so... Unfortunately English is all I have." Her fingers ran along the edge of the table as she spoke, a stress reaction of sorts, caused by the need to ground herself.