( open )

[baguablade]

Who: Cain (baguablade) & you!
What: event catch-all - investigating, hunting down bad guys, making (bad) medicinal soup, whatever
When: post attack
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): none

( a : no hunting like the hunting of man )

[ The group gathered in the market is strangely subdued, even for the wariness that's fallen over the place after the attack. There's something going around, glazed-over eyes and jerky movements, oddly shuffling feet as the group makes its way through the district. Some of the men and women bump into things and seem not to notice; others are laughing and chatting far too loudly, stilted — an obvious act.

At the center of the group is a man, bright-eyed and alert, the only one looking anything resembling normal. His sleeves are pulled down, but as he turns, one rides up, revealing a large "M" on his wrist.

One of the Shady Man's associates — and while the group hasn't noticed yet, sharp-eyed individuals might pick out Cain following along behind the group, taking a meandering path through the market as he trails their steps. He seems relaxed and at ease, but his gaze is sharp, watching the man, and his hand never strays far from the hilt of his sword.

Whether you're just passing by, doing your own shopping, or whether you're hunting the tattooed man, too, straying too close to the group has Cain abruptly stepping up behind you, grabbing your arm, and pulling you back into the shadows of an alley. ]

Hey. [ Low, hissed with urgency. ] Don't get near them, or you'll get caught, too.

( b : painted full of tongues )

[ It's not exactly the nicest of bars in town, paint peeling, tables uneven, the lighting dim and flickering, suspicious stains on the floor. But it is exactly the sort of bar that men who've recently helped set off a virus-laden bomb in the center of the city might frequent, an establishment where the drink is cheap, the customers are unfriendly, and no one asks too many questions.

Cain, of course, has come here to ask far too many questions.

He's nursing a drink (untouched, he keeps pouring a little bit of it out when it seems like no one's watching) and listening to the very interesting conversation going on nearby — the conversation between two women with "M" tattoos on their wrists.

Meet his eyes, catch onto what he's doing — if you approach him, he'll smile at you like an old friend. ]

There you are. What do you want to drink?

( c : toil and trouble )

[ The soup Cain's cooking can't exactly be called soup when it's neon-blue and roiling, letting off faintly pinkish steam. With the large cast-iron stewpot he's making it in, it looks more like a witch's brew in a cauldron than soup. Also it somehow smells like both fresh laundry and wet dog. Mysterious, but hopefully something to help with the equally mysterious illness going around after the market attack — the large chunk of also mysterious sea creature tooth that he's ground a bit of and used as seasoning might help, considering its medicinal properties. Or it might not, but either way, Cain stripped down to pants, undershirt, and under-gauntlets and wielding a wooden stirring spoon over the cheerfully bubbling not-soup is certainly a sight.

And hard to ignore, since he's cooking it in the kitchen of his apartment with the windows thrown wide open. Anyone passing by could easily catch sight of the cloud of pink vapors, catch a whiff of the (very strong) smell, or even hear Cain talking to himself. ]

It's probably not enough to reanimate the dead...

[ You might even pass by just in time to hear the loud roar of something combusting. Cain's startled yelp and the gooey blue soup going everywhere is pretty hard to miss. ]

( d : wildcard )

( If there's anything else you'd like to plot out with me, I'm available at idelva or through PMs! )

Comments

[baguablade]

[ It's less unknowingly engaged, and more that he's knowingly engaging in it without the practice to succeed right away. But at least Linneus is on the right track!

For his part, Cain sighs and sets down his spoon. The bubble and the silver powder really is too much, even for him. ]

In combination, they might be. [ Rueful, giving in to the obvious. ] I'll start over. Maybe I should just use a pinch of ground tooth...

[inaurare]

Or perhaps it is better not to use the tooth at all. Until you know how it is?

[all of these colours are a little disconcerting, especially if he intends to feed it to the sick...]

Perhaps we can make another. What other ingredients did you use?

[baguablade]

Most if it was vegetables and things I found in the market.

[ He peers into the soup, searching for any sign of said vegetables. There's nothing, though. They seem to have liquefied. Hmm, that definitely is a mark against suitable to feed to living creatures... ]

Oh, but I did have a bit of rock from back home. I thought that might serve as a catalyst.

[ Yep. A rock. A pebble, to be more precise, that just happened to be in his shoe! ]

[inaurare]

[a slow intake of breath.

He considers himself quite a patient person but this is... troubling, baffling, horrifying all at once]

Vegetables. Have you used them all, or shall we go back to the market for more?

[baguablade]

[ Cain pauses, taking a moment to eye this perfect stranger he's invited into his home. He seems calm, but still... there's an air of storm clouds gathering around him, danger brewing. The calm before a storm.

Slowly, cautiously, Cain answers. ]

I have a few tomatoes left...?

[inaurare]

I think a vegetable or chicken soup may be better. Or... some other form of poultry, if there is no chicken. Tomato may be too acidic, but perhaps when they are more... robust?

[the fact that he is iffy on tomato may suggest his stance on grating tooth and lobbing bits of random stone into the soup]

We shall have to shop, I think.

[baguablade]

Er. You know I'm not really trying to make soup, right...?

[ Honesty, Cain's looking a little overwhelmed, his eyes gone a little wide as Lenneus reels off the orders. What exactly has he committed himself to here? Surely not actual cooking... ]

[inaurare]

Then... then you were aiming for-- for this?

[this, a graceful gesture to the blue-coloured, silver-bubbling, pink-steaming, wet-dog-smelling concoction on the stove. His composure is not a thing easily lost, but he is near-faint in his disbelief at this point. Or maybe that's the fumes...]

Or-- what was your aim? To finish them off?

[because this will certainly do it.

Oh, he needs to sit down]

[baguablade]

To...? No, of course not!

[ Does it really seem that bad? Sure, the soup doesn't really seem edible, but enough that his intentions are in question now?? Cain's genuinely alarmed — more so when he looks over and catches a glimpse of how pale Lenneus's face is. Uh oh.

Hastily, Cain grabs Lenneus's arm, propping him up as he guides Lenneus to a seat. ]

I was going for a curative potion. Maybe you need one, you're not looking so great...

[inaurare]

And have you made curative potions before?

[he may have an unassuming exterior, but in rare cases Linn can be like a dog with a bone - and this is one of those cases, even as he is being steered to sit.]

[baguablade]

I've watched someone make them.

[ And having watched, surely he knows enough of the basics — well, the theory — that the blithe confidence in his voice is totally warranted! ]

[inaurare]

I've seen people brawl before, but that certainly doesn't mean I would be any good at it.

[a light shake of his head]

I still think you should set your sights a little lower, as much as you may not wish to.

[baguablade]

Lower, how, exactly?

[ He's curious rather than belligerent, cocking his head to the side to give Linneus a questioning look. He does genuinely want to know what a lower goal would be to aim for. After all, he'd thought he wasn't aiming all that high to start with — how difficult could soup with a few curative properties be?

Very difficult, apparently, but hey, learn something new every day! ]

[inaurare]

Lower than potions.

[less alchemy. More cooking]

I still think that soup may be a better start.

[baguablade]

Well... [ He's about to protest, but then he thinks back to the "soup." No, Linneus may have a point. ] What about soup, and then we can add a bit of reagent to a bowl?

[ His voice lilts up in a hopeful manner. Surely that's aiming low enough, going for a successful pot of soup first? ]

[inaurare]

...reagent?

[he doesn't know exactly what he means but he is willing to relent-]

We can add a small amount - to a single serving, just to see what happens.

[he is not going to wreck another perfectly good soup]

But this-- [a little gesture to the current concoction] I'm sorry, but this goes away.

[baguablade]

[ Cain sighs. All his hard work, to be poured down the sink like it's slop! Or, well, maybe thrown out like it's yesterday's trash? He's not actually sure that it's safe to pour the (still!) bubbling concoction down the sink and into the city's water supply... ]

One serving, then. And before that, soup. [ He gives in with good grace, spreading, his hands. Giving way to the master? ] So, what first?

[inaurare]

Clean up here first. Including... that.

[A gesture to the stove - oh, he wouldn't trust that down the sink. It will solidify and block, or quite possibly burn straight through, though it seems contained in the pot for the time being.]

Then we can let the kitchen air while we go out for ingredients.

[baguablade]

Clean up. Right...

[ His silence drags on a little. Well. The not-soup can be poured into one of the huge glass bottles he has ready for transporting his (sure to be) successful attempts, but he's not entirely certain how to dispose of the reject. Cain spends a moment staring at the bubbling liquid, but no sudden spark of inspiration comes to mind. He's great at coming up with brilliant battle plans. Figuring out how to clean up kitchen accidents? Not so much.

Then again, he does have an expert to seek advice from! ]

How exactly should we get rid of this? Safely, that is.

[inaurare]

I'd be tempted to say leave it to cool, but I don't think that will make it any easier to get rid of.

[it'll be more of an obstruction than anything...]

...we should be rid of the entire thing, pot and all. We can find a new one.

[baguablade]

Hm. Burning it, maybe...?

[ Though that might just release toxic fumes. It'd probably be okay, besides the ground up tooth and a few bits of magic-infused rock, Cain hasn't used anything poisonous in his concoction. But still... He eyes the not-soup doubtfully. Do they really want to risk it? ]

Leaving it bottled might just make the problem worse, though. Maybe the Simwe Institute would know what to do with it.

[ They're into all sorts of experiments at the Institute, after all. Surely they've dealt with something like this before? ]

[inaurare]

[the barest wrinkle of his nose and between his brows. Yes, it probably will ignite...]

There are rubbish bins though, no? Even this should fit...

[and no one would be as silly as to eat from the trash...]

[baguablade]

[ Oh, you might be surprised, Linneus... ]

Sure, but being so careless with it just means it becomes someone else's problem to deal with. Besides, if we put it in the trash, who knows what sorts of animals might get into it.

[ And if the animals can spread the not-soup's effects, whatever those might be... Besides, Cain just doesn't like the idea of leaving someone else to clean up his mess. ]

[inaurare]

That's true.

[a pause, lips puckered into a pout, considering]

But I'm not sure it's worth running the risk of wrecking the plumbing. What else can we do? I'd rather it not still be sitting here while we make real soup.

That goes for the... tooth, as well.

[baguablade]

I guess we could put it outside with a "do not touch" sign while we cook...

[ And then maybe take it to Simwe? Or burn it after? If they take it far enough out of the city, burning might be viable... ]

The tooth's totally inert, though. [ In fact, he's puzzled why Linneus is so wary of it! ] I can move it off the counter, but it should be fine as long as we don't put any in.