TDM 005

[etrayamods]

⏵ arrival ⏴ Arrival goes as anticipated. Characters awaken in a sterile hospital bed in a clean, white room to the hum of machines under the unnatural lighting common to well-kept institutions. Every bit was designed to be comforting and calming, even with the jarring undercurrent of this situation. The first face they see is Aurora's: her smile appears to be warm, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She might offer a quick explanation, or leave characters to figure it out for themselves depending on their approach. The door to the room swings open, revealing a hallway that stretches out ahead of them. There’s noise from outside and strong pumpkin spice scents coming from the lobby. Ah, muffins and tea. Grab one and head into the crisp, sunny fall morning ahead. ⏵ potluck ⏴ Cutthroat Iron Etrayan Bake-Off As you step out of the arrival holding area into the main thoroughfare, the entire street has been turned into tents and chef stations to accommodate the activities of thirty people at once. There’s seats, trailers, and robots bustling about to make sure everyone is ready. A couple of cheerful robots in aprons and colorful sweaters approach and redirect you as you step towards the cooking area. There’s gas ranges, ovens, grills, blast chillers, mixers, and set walk-ins and pantries with just about every ingredient you can imagine. There are cameramen (also robots) patrolling the area to capture all your best moments and to broadcast them directly to your fellow citizens’ devices. Your instruction? “Make your signature dish. You have one hour, chef.” It can’t just be straightforward, can it? The land itself is held together with pure chaotic energy. If you’re lucky, all goes as planned. If you aren’t… well… Roll a Die 1 Your leg is now tied to another chef’s 2 Your meal is continually un-cooking itself. 3 All of your ingredients are pickled now 4 The longer you touch an ingredient, the bigger it gets. 5 Every time you lift your pot lid, a component changes. 6 The aromatics are glowing and flashing like LED lights. 7 Your knife has been replaced with a cheese grater. 8 The ingredients are now magnetically stuck together. 9 Your meal is becoming deep fried. 10 Kittens are multiplying out of the cupboard. * 11 All of your ingredients have become incredibly heavy. 12 Your cook pot moves burners whenever you turn around. 13 Eggs scream when you crack them 14 The kitchen has become incredibly slippery. 15 It’s soup now. 16 All utensils have been replaced with crustaceans. ** 17 Your knife has a mind of its own. Watch out! 18 Your fridge catches fire. 19 Your pasta is trying to escape. Go get it. 20 Any ingredient not in the pot starts to float away. * All kittens disappear at the end. ** These however, stay. ⏵ share a meal ⏴ As all the cooking concludes, you will be invited to plate your meal into one of many casserole dishes, regardless of what was made. A ladle will be tucked into the corner and placed on the table with a folded bit of cardstock declaring the chef’s name and the name of the dish. A helper camerabot will come around to each participant and ask for their thinking and their process. Even if you got away without having to cook, even looking towards the table of dishes will spur a helper bot to start making you a plate with one of everything. The helperbot will insist that it is rude to not at least try what their peers have made. In fact, if you are to fill out the score card for each person, you really must taste everything! The robots can’t try the food, so it’s up to you. The cards look like so. The grading system is opaque. Is it meant to be numbers? Stars? Letter grades? Well, you’re the judge. You figure it out. Chef: ___________ Dish:_____________ Judge:___________ Overall Rating:_______ Flavor Presentation Stackability Wet Originality Rizz ⏵ tummy ache survivor ⏴ No matter how well your compatriots cooked or baked their dishes, there are… factors. You see that carrot? It’s really just condensed chaos in the shape of a carrot. No matter how powerful you are, these particular ingredients may not mesh with your being. …And even if it is truly a carrot, do all the chefs know the proper cooking temperature of chicken? Even chickens are aliens to many. (Optional) Roll a Die 1 Tummy Ache. Go lay in bed. Complaining alleviates symptoms. 2 That plate of food has energized you. You feel compelled to race or spar. 3 The food has reminded you of home. You must tell someone a detail of your childhood. 4 That food was so horrible that it simply must be washed out somehow. Spicy peppers? Booze? Gravel??? You’re going to over do it. 5 You have now discovered your new favorite dish. Make them teach it to you or you’ll lose sleep over it. This is all you want to eat for the next week. 6 The oddity of the ingredients has transferred to you. You start floating away. 7 The range of food and textures have inspired you. Acquire an annoying new hobby or habit. 8 You are now haunted by the digital souls of chickens. ⏵ NOTES ⏴ Please direct all questions to our mod queries comment! ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

[relished]

Perhaps you will soon.

[a glint of - amusement, when the honey is turned down. he hasn't indulged in ways that Will assumes. he collected and grew local flowers that he still hasn't used. waiting for the perfect moment, but the moment hasn't quite come. he meets Will's eyes, a smile hidden behind the lip of the cup.]

As local as the flora and fauna.

[a hint of humor laced into their conversation. he does miss having snails, however.]

[this_ismydesign]

[ Will gives a small shrug. Hannibal is probably right, Will will figure out which way is up in due time. For right now, he feels it's enough of a win that he isn't spiraling into a disassociated cycle. Baby steps.

Catching the older man's humor, Will gives a soft chuff. Not quite a smile, but the corner of his lips curl upwards, and an answering twinkle brightens his eyes. ]

Word around the office was, Price and Zeller kept pranking each other with honey, bee and hive related "gifts". [ He does the air quotes. He won't mention Jack's reaction to either the case itself, or the morbid games of his two forensic specialists. Jack being a complicated subject.

Price and Zeller had always been ... palate cleansers of a sort. Harmless enough to be amusing rather than potential meal ingredients. ]

[relished]

[his smile turns to a sly grin, which turns to a laugh. the two of them didn't share the same knowing back then, when Hannibal had invited himself to Will's hotel room and shared breakfast and talk of delicacy. now they're open and seen, a pandora's box between them.

tea is enjoyed between deft hands and movements around the kitchen as he prepares the small meal for two. the smells of sausage and eggs, of fresh bread being toasted and the sound of plates and silverware clicking together. having Will sit in the kitchen and exchanging light conversation felt far away, out of his grasp, until this new reality set in. thoughts of Echo's intentions dance around his thoughts. if they're both here now, what could Echo - or Aurora - want from the two of them? are they to be the balance of this world, or the imbalance?]

Are you planning on staying in the apartments?

[they're far from the comfort of Will's home, and further from any comfort at all.]

[this_ismydesign]

[ Despite what he knows about Hannibal's 'culinary' habits, not to mention what took place in this kitchen, there is a sense of familiarity and comfort. Given his eidetic memory, Will can recall each visit he paid to the kitchen. Two were nightmares, but the remaining visits had all involved these comforting rituals. Tea, or wine, or coffee, to sip while listening to Hannibal prepare a meal.

Will had spent too many nights agonizing over what he now knew about the food he'd consumed. Too many nights. When Will had decided to release Hannibal from prison, and let events with the Red Dragon unfold as Fate decreed, Will had let go of that part of his own humanity. There was no sense in torturing himself over that past. Over choices, both ignorant and knowing.

Hannibal was right. Life was much more peaceful, when you just accepted your nature. ]

It's not ideal. [ He says, in a resigned tone. ] Being in close quarters with that many people? Even Chilton's 'luxury guest' accommodations were preferable. But it beats sleeping on strange streets, so for the time being ... [ He shrugs, accepting his fate. ]