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WHO: Ignis Scientia, Noctis Caelum and Prompto Argentum
WHERE: Noctis' penthouse
WHEN: May 1st
WHAT: cute chocobro shit
WARNINGS: none
[It's very silent in the kitchen, probably to an eerie degree, but Ignis has opted out of leaving the television on or even wearing a pair of earbuds for once, what is his usual routine when he cooks. He needs to be able to focus.
Prompto and Noct have occupied themselves with a nap, something Ignis hadn't been aware of until checking in on them only to find Prompto flat on his back and Noct curled against his side. He'd left them alone, thought of what to do with his free time. That's when the idea hit him. That one little memory that stands out from all the others, detached, unique, because it continues to lack context.
That's what brought Ignis to decide on baking.
Not that he's all that sure he's doing a good enough job. He crouched down in front of the stove, watching it like a hawk as he stares at his wristwatch. Ignis continues a pattern of movement the entire time, checking the stove, the temperature, his watch, reading over the recipe he'd printed out from the Internet along with his own notes on a notepad. Again and again, he does this. Sometimes he thinks to open the stove door but he doesn't want to ruin the pastries, so he just lingers, thinks to pick up a book but instead works on his third cup of coffee.
He had no idea baking could be so damn nerve-wracking.]
WHERE: Noctis' penthouse
WHEN: May 1st
WHAT: cute chocobro shit
WARNINGS: none
[It's very silent in the kitchen, probably to an eerie degree, but Ignis has opted out of leaving the television on or even wearing a pair of earbuds for once, what is his usual routine when he cooks. He needs to be able to focus.
Prompto and Noct have occupied themselves with a nap, something Ignis hadn't been aware of until checking in on them only to find Prompto flat on his back and Noct curled against his side. He'd left them alone, thought of what to do with his free time. That's when the idea hit him. That one little memory that stands out from all the others, detached, unique, because it continues to lack context.
That's what brought Ignis to decide on baking.
Not that he's all that sure he's doing a good enough job. He crouched down in front of the stove, watching it like a hawk as he stares at his wristwatch. Ignis continues a pattern of movement the entire time, checking the stove, the temperature, his watch, reading over the recipe he'd printed out from the Internet along with his own notes on a notepad. Again and again, he does this. Sometimes he thinks to open the stove door but he doesn't want to ruin the pastries, so he just lingers, thinks to pick up a book but instead works on his third cup of coffee.
He had no idea baking could be so damn nerve-wracking.]
no subject
With closed eyes, a mess of hair, and him only in sweats, he drags his feet and goes to the bathroom connected to his bedroom. It’s when he exits that he smells something.
Noctis muffles a sound of curiosity as he leaves, walking out to see in the kitchen that Ignis is quietly toiling away at something. It’s not abnormal for him to cook, but it smells like something is baking. Something sweet? He didn’t know Ignis took up baking...
He yawns when he approaches, ruffling at his thick, messy locks of hair. ]
Since when’d you bake?
no subject
Since now, apparently.
[He checks his watch, finally noticing that it's nearly time to turn off the heat.]
Our conversation about memories, which you'd informed me were caused by Retrospec. I'd told you about mine. But there was one I didn't mention.
no subject
Mmh. Memory, right.
[ It takes him about 30 seconds until his eyes open. ]
Wait what?
no subject
There. You need it far more than I do at the moment.
no subject
Probably. Thanks.
[ He takes the cup and slowly takes a sip. ]
What memory was it?
no subject
A pastry.
[A pause, before he glances over his shoulder.]
That's it. A pastry. I've no idea where it came from, where I've seen it before, if I've even eaten such a thing. Honestly, it sounds like something from some banal romantic comedy. I thought perhaps it was something I'd eaten as a child and just couldn't remember.
[He returns his attention to the oven and finally steps forward to turn off the heat.]
But then the other dreams-- memories, started happening. I'm not at all sure what the relation is to whatever history I've had in... Eos.
no subject
He watches Ignis as his attention sticks to the oven, like he’s determined. It’s not unlike Ignis to be this driven to figure something out, but he’s never really seen him be so focused on cooking like this. But it’s at that very thought which he recalls the memory of that camping scene. Of what he had been smelling and this automatic understanding of who the cause of it was. ]
I don’t remember pastries but... I remember smelling barbecue at this camp site. I think you cooked?
[ But that doesn’t mean anything. Noctis shrugs and takes another sip. ]
It smelled good.
Not sure if that has anything to do with it being a thing for you.
no subject
He sort of... would like to remember this, in particular. What it was like to cook for Noct on a regular basis, for it to have become a habit. Not unlike now where it's more of a necessity, but...
Oh. He should pull the pastries out of the oven.]
You may be right. [Ignis opens up the oven door only to pause as he tries to recall where he set away those mitts he found, wandering about as he talks.]
I believe... I held a certain degree of responsibility. Remember when you'd informed me of your ability to use magic? That we'd used weapons? I recall it now. I also remember a car. Does the name Regalia sound at all familiar to you?
no subject
[ He nods at the question, craning his neck as he watches Ignis pull the pastries out from the oven. It weirdly smells good. Sweet. And that’s helping rouse him from sleep.
He pauses though. Car? ]
N...o, actually. We travelled so I’m sure we had one.
We named the car?
no subject
I'm unsure. I simply remember that the car was named Regalia.
[He seems to pause, considering whether he should mention the final part of this memory he recalls, that he knows the car belonged to Regis, Noct's father.
Instead Ignis just picks up the scattered items on the counter, folding the recipe sheet, picking up his notepad and pencil.]
Please allow them to cool for a moment.
no subject
Noctis thinks on the name but he can’t recall. There’s no guarantee something will come through right away; it doesn’t always happen.
He stops as the tray of freshly baked pastries are set on the counter. His brow perks. ]
What are they?
no subject
Ah, sorry. A moment.
[He starts rummaging inside, pulls out something that appears to be one of those containers of icing you use for cakes, but there's another item, a white sort of substance snug in a clear baggy.]
There's a custard filling, a strawberry filling and an apple filling. I'll need to add the topping. I wasn't sure if it had icing on the top. I purchased a store brand however I did make my own. The topping in my memory somewhat appeared dusted. Possibly icing sugar? I debated on adding a glaze as well. There is a royal icing which leaves a nice sheen, but I didn't prepare it. I didn't want to go overboard with ingredients.
[Except he sort of did. Seeing as he made three different fillings and has three different toppings. All together, he has nine pastries prepared. Both icings are set on the free space leftover on the counter. Ignis goes to retrieve the powdered sugar he also bought, tucked away in a cabinet along with at least three different boxes of pastry mix.
He put a lot of effort into this.]
no subject
So was he researching this all day? Just to recall a pastry a different version of him had made? Noctis looks about as curious as he feels when he looks at everything. He knows how Ignis’ functions, how there’s a purpose behind the passion he displays towards anything. Is there something important about this?
Noctis leans forward, reaching to grab one bag of filling, turning it over. ]
This must have taken you all day.
Was it that good?
no subject
The actual baking portion, yes. I'd been somewhat researching on how to best go about this for about a week or so.
[If he were able to reach out to his uncle, he would have done so, but he's found that to be nearly impossible. All Ignis has had is his own persistent and thorough methods of getting things done, a little obsessively at that, a bad habit he'd grown into from college. He can't exactly help that he too to this so... enthusiastically.
Except now that he's standing here with all these things set out on the counter, all for Noctis to see in clear view, it's dawning on him that this looks utterly stupid. He's never baked before. He isn't a cook. He's actually had two prior attempts in trying to make these pastries when Noct has been out of the apartment but he ended up with a lot of burnt lumps that needed to be tossed out.]
And please don't tell me this is ridiculous. I know, I just... well, I believe the only answer is that I've gone insane.
[He looks over to Noct even as he begins opening up the container of icing.]
They may be terrible. I'm rather sure they are.
no subject
With a muffled sound of contention, he concedes to his cup of coffee. The counter is an absolute mess with everything Ignis has collected and attempted but Noctis isn’t at all displeased. No, he’s... Intrigued. If not a bit concerned. Because if this is from that alternate world, would there be any guarantee it would be the same? He’s very obviously trying to replicate something, very passionately for one.
He takes a sip as he looks over everything, setting down his cup with a sudden look of guilt when Ignis exposes an insecurity. ]
What? No—
[ He’s just... A little confused? He knows Ignis enjoys cooking to an extent, but this?
But Noctis never knows the right words to say, and so he softens up. He looks over the unfilled pastries on the tray, mulling this over. He’s still of the belief that they didn’t actually live those lives, but... If this means something to Ignis...]
Mmh.
[ He leans his chin on one hand, propped at the elbow, while the other points to the tray. ]
Do one of each filling. I’ll try it.
no subject
Maybe he just wasn't cut out for this the way his uncle was. But he already has these pastries out, they're ready, there's no point in throwing them in the garbage because of fickle dissatisfaction. That'd also be an utter waste, and he could feel his uncle scolding him from across the continent.
Once the container is open Ignis begins the work of spreading it out over the pastries, down a row of three fillings. He closes the container, grabs the powdered sugar and carefully applies it down another row. Finally, it's time for the homemade icing and Ignis extends his hand so Noctis can give it to him.]
no subject
Ignis says nothing, but Noctis gets the hint of what he’s asking for. With a look of interest, he picks up the container and hands it over. ]
no subject
But once he's done, Ignis lets out what almost sounds like an exhausted sigh as he just stares over the food, analyzing the details when there's really nothing to fix at this point because they're baked, they're done, all that's left is the most important part: eating them.
He turns to Noct.]
Which would you care to start with first? --do be careful, I assume the filling may still be hot.
no subject
[he bites at his bottom lip.]
[sure, he knows this shouldn't be the case now that ignis and he are getting along better, but he's never had to share noctis with anyone, seeing as they were each other's best friend.]
Sorry, uh, just wondered if I was alone in the apartment...
[an awkward shift, hand brushing the back of his hair]
[he basically needs to be invited for all these antagonistic feelings to go away]
no subject
Hey.
[ He nudges his nose towards Ignis. ]
Specs took on baking. Come try it.
no subject
Emphasis to be placed upon "took on". [He spares a look in Noct's direction before he clicks his tongue and turns around to the kitchen cabinets.]
Noct, at least wait for me to give you a plate. [From over his shoulder he calls out while pulling out two plates.]
Prompto, sit. [You can tell there is no negotiating here. You sit and you eat his pastries, boys.] Would either of you care for milk?