Username: Slann`
Scent: Serpent's Kiss
Scent Name: Ian
Guardian: We`rika
Prompt 1 ( Child Stage) Wrote:
It's a rainy day and there's nothing to do. You know it, your newly born child Scent knows it, and the Scent in question is starting to raise quite a ruckus about it. "There's nothing to do!" Your Scent whines, and it's driving you nuts! That's when you have an idea! You could teach your Scent how to bake a pie! Everyone loves pie! Describe how successful (or unsuccessful) your attempts at teaching your Scent this handy skill is! (We're not grading for accuracy, don't worry if you can't bake )
“Would ya ge’ me a beer…”
The dull command was answered only by the tap of stinging rain that abused the windows and sucked the happiness out of everyone. Well except We`rika, he could give less of a damn. He had his day off and his couch and his big screen TV he still hadn’t paid off and his soon to be full can of fermented hops.
“Ge’ me a beer…! Beer!” He called again. He only had a moment to get one curse out before cold can pelted him in the chest, “Jesus! Th’hell is wrong wit’cha?” He looked back at his child as if he had just been shot. Ian’s only reply was…
“I’m bored…”
“Yer bored? Psh, what are you talking abou’, I’m findin’ plen’y ta do…” Half his reply was muted by the loud crack and hiss of his newly opened can. He tried to ignore the crazy kid, but the damned brat kept moving into his line of vision.
“That’s you, jerk! I’mma talking about me!”
“… Selfish aren’ we? Well wha’ the hell d’ya want me ta do abou’ i’? I though’ you were all “independen’” and shi’…” But before his child’s silver tongue could reply a commercial took his turn.
“PIES. BAKE ONE WITH YOUR FAMILY!”
“………”
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“Alrigh’!” We`rika didn’t exactly have mixing bowls, but he did have an amazing assortment of Tupperware and hey! Close enough. Wooden spoons were low on the list as well, so forks took their place. Half the ingredients were missing too, but that wasn’t the point! “So we have the flour and the… ‘yolks’ and now we—” The young man took his eyes off the recipe and looked down at the square Tupperware bowl that was curiously piled high with a grainy white substance. “Wha’s tha’…?’ He asked suspiciously coolly.
“1/3 tibsp of salt…” Ian breathed impatiently; his quick eyes challenging his guardian to say differently.
“…..” We`rika took the measuring utensil from his child and pursed his lips into a flat line. “….. No... This would be a third of a cup….”
“S’not like there’s a difference…” Ian argued, but his biting comment was cold and just shy of false condescension. It infuriated We`rika to be brushed off so easily by something half his size and they both knew it. So young and he already knew how to push his guardian’s buttons. The Ophidian decided if he was going to be miserable today, he might as well drag his guardian down with him.
“… Yes! Yes there is a diff’rence!” Anger management classes or no, the young man’s interior boiled with a furious rage that took a few hurled objects to cool down. And the 1/3 measuring cup was the first thing that hit the wall. Course… he needed it again for the sugar and finally biting his pride, he went over and retrieved it through a chorus of howling laughter that came from Ian. “Les’ jes pu’ the chocola’ in and pu’ i’ in the friggin’ oven…”
“I don’t like chocolate…” It was a completely half-hearted whine with only one motive in sight, and it worked as the clank of the dented cup hit the wall again. He needed to start keeping score.
“Everyone likes chocolate!!” His voice was loud, but his words held no heat behind them as he dumped the cocoa mix in the pie mix and filled the crappy graham cracker crust.
“It looks like a pile of shi—”
“Wha’ever! Sugar is sugar, it always taste good. Now, pu’ the b*****d in th’oven… pleeease…” He purred sickly sweet to Ian. He knew how to get under the boy’s skin as well.
The Ophidian stubbornly sat there until he got tired of holding the pie before he shuffled towards the oven and opened it. And then he paused. It looked kinda hot. “H-Hey…!” He protested as We`rika took a hold of his child’s hands and directed the pie on the iron rack. “I-I coulda done it myself…!”
“Well move faster… Ya were lettin’ all the hea’ ou’… Now watch it for a few... I’mma go clean up…”
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Ian kept a good eye on the pie, sitting directly in front of the oven window. He was probably going to get sunburned! We`rika simply rolled his eyes and cleaned out the Tupperware and measuring cups. “How’s I’ lookin’?”
“…………. Should it be black? Hey!” Ian was shoved to the side by a large hand as his guardian pressed his wide-eyed face against the glass.
“Well s**t! Why din’ ya tell me before it wen’ black?!”
“… You told me ta watch it, nothin’ more…” Ian smiled cheekily before clawing his way from the kitchen as We`rika threatened to all but flung the pie at him.
So there it sat… their ashen masterpiece. Ian couldn’t help but smile at his handiwork that is until the young man placed a hand around him, dwarfing the shoulder it cradled. Stiffening his lower lip, Ian looked up at We`rika and he looked down at Ian. “Wanna peanu’ butter sandwich?”
“… Yeah…”
