// Got something inside, don't hide it, like dynamite ignitin' //
All prior fears, even the ones that lingered when he did in fact find himself alone in the kitchen with just her dads, fades easily by now. There's not enough beer in him yet for that to have helped, but the focus of familiar work beneath his hands and the easy conversations have made it simple to relax into the idea of this being normal. A laugh rouses even, as Ronin adds the key clarifier. "Same reason I can't be trusted to bake then. Brownie batter and cookie dough require so much sampling to ensure they're perfect I always run out." A baker's dozen might be thirteen, but a Kaisel dozen is two at best.
The moment softens more than he means it to when he brings up his mother, each of them responding in the quiet past lives stir like dust through light, the meaningful people lost to them just the various motes drifting across thoughts. He knows they're both not from Caido, so he's guessing neither of them have seen their families in some time, making the new ones built here all the more precious.
Flora's arrival lances through the risk of edging into something too somber, saving Kaisel from asking questions he maybe shouldn't. He flashes her a thumbs up, coated in flour dust and crumbs. "Is that a risk for you or me?" he wonders with a tilted grin of the possible fire. With the shrimp all coated and laid out in a tray, ready to be fried as well, Kaisel washes up again at the sink to reclaim the use of his hands.
His cardigan is definitely a shade lighter than when he started, his own apron forgotten behind the door. "Hazards of the job I guess" he mutters, looking down at it as he takes the towel from his shoulder that Spice isn't on to dry his hands. He pinches the fabric and tries to shake it off over the sink, rather unsuccessfully. Fortunately, this is no collector's item.
"Anything else chef?" he asks as he takes another swig of his beer, glancing back at Flora with a wink.
The moment softens more than he means it to when he brings up his mother, each of them responding in the quiet past lives stir like dust through light, the meaningful people lost to them just the various motes drifting across thoughts. He knows they're both not from Caido, so he's guessing neither of them have seen their families in some time, making the new ones built here all the more precious.
Flora's arrival lances through the risk of edging into something too somber, saving Kaisel from asking questions he maybe shouldn't. He flashes her a thumbs up, coated in flour dust and crumbs. "Is that a risk for you or me?" he wonders with a tilted grin of the possible fire. With the shrimp all coated and laid out in a tray, ready to be fried as well, Kaisel washes up again at the sink to reclaim the use of his hands.
His cardigan is definitely a shade lighter than when he started, his own apron forgotten behind the door. "Hazards of the job I guess" he mutters, looking down at it as he takes the towel from his shoulder that Spice isn't on to dry his hands. He pinches the fabric and tries to shake it off over the sink, rather unsuccessfully. Fortunately, this is no collector's item.
"Anything else chef?" he asks as he takes another swig of his beer, glancing back at Flora with a wink.
Kaisel
// Take the music, learn to use it, turn it up 'til your speakers blow fuses //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
