[ she hadn’t intended to participate, but considering the town decided to toss in a festival right on her street, she figures it defeats remaining inside and merely listening in to all the frantic chatter. besides, the contest does present her with participating in something she’s actually good at, and it really becomes more of a means to distract herself with something comforting than to actually win.
at least, that was the intention at the start.
it’s no surprise that the townspeople would play tricks on them, but what she doesn’t expect is when she notices the man at the table beside her carefully moving his hands, an odd energy seemingly moving invisibly around him. is it ... magic?
unfortunately, the surprise of it distracts her for the span of a few seconds, more than enough to divert her eyes away from the ingredients she aims to use for her lobster bisque. of course, all the ingredients are exactly where they were, but — where are her knives for chopping them? she will find them, when she peeks up and sees them on the table beside her, a crease between her brows prompting her annoyance.
but if he’s going to play that game, so can she. she hopes he can handle some overcooked eggs, because when her fingers give a small curling wave, a subtle red glow drifts from them, floating across the way to notch up the heat of his stove. ]
cooking mama
at least, that was the intention at the start.
it’s no surprise that the townspeople would play tricks on them, but what she doesn’t expect is when she notices the man at the table beside her carefully moving his hands, an odd energy seemingly moving invisibly around him. is it ... magic?
unfortunately, the surprise of it distracts her for the span of a few seconds, more than enough to divert her eyes away from the ingredients she aims to use for her lobster bisque. of course, all the ingredients are exactly where they were, but — where are her knives for chopping them? she will find them, when she peeks up and sees them on the table beside her, a crease between her brows prompting her annoyance.
but if he’s going to play that game, so can she. she hopes he can handle some overcooked eggs, because when her fingers give a small curling wave, a subtle red glow drifts from them, floating across the way to notch up the heat of his stove. ]