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ASSORTED NSFW REDHEAD SHENANIGANS

what it says on the tin

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[She hears his stomach grumble, and she pulls back with a laugh. She wasn't the one with hearing enhanced by the Seventh Fonon, so if she could hear that, he really must be hungry.] That sounds like a good idea.

[She lets go of his hands, but only so she can turn back to the counter and busy herself with the blackberries - which, thankfully, are not coated in blood. She's not nearly so flustered now as she was before, either, so when she picks up the knife again (which she cleans off first) to go back to dicing the berries, she gets the job done without any major injury.

She's still not in any rush to tell him that she dreamed about him last night, but things feel less awkward now that they've cleared the air. She's glad for that, and she's even humming a little under her breath as she works.]

[Stirring the rest of the batter doesn't take long, either - soon he's prepping the pan on the stove, the bowl and ladle sitting next to him.]

Add the berries in there, this is almost ready.

[Cooking, the last refuge of the still sort of flustered. He's not really sure yet what to think about what happened, so he hasn't. Thinking can wait till later, after they eat and he's had a chance to hide himself in for a while and sort out everything.

He's still smiling, though, that's got to be a good sign.]

Okay!

[The berries are added to the mixture and stirred in evenly. Sheba is still humming and still smiling - it's true that she's not entirely sure where exactly they stand, but things seem promising. He doesn't seem to have been... too weirded out by what was essentially her confessing to him, and that's a good thing.

She giggles a little and looks from the pan to the pancake batter.] Can I make one? I promise not to burn it!

I don't see why not. Don't drip on the stove.

[Cleaning that thing off is hell, and unlike the dishes, they don't have a convenient robot to do it for them. Asch tips the pan slightly and then steps out of her way.]

[With Asch out of the way, she spoons up some of the batter with the ladle and eases it into the pan. She has no way to speed the cooking process - and it's probably good that she doesn't, because it would be all too easy to pull a Jenna and accidentally set it on fire while trying to speed it up.

A bit of batter does drip from the ladle, but she sees it before it hits the stove and nods slightly; there's a controlled rush of wind that catches the batter before it can make a mess and puts it back into place. There, perfect.

Now to watch it cook. She keeps an eye on it, and once it's ready, she doesn't use a spatula. Instead, she concentrates and uses the wind to ease the pancake up, turn it over, and set it back down.

Cooking with Psynergy, everyone. Sheba certainly looks proud of herself. It's not too long before the pancake is done and she uses Psynergy again to ease it out of the pan and onto a plate.] How does it look?

Like you're a show-off.

[He's smiling, though, so it can't be all bad. While she loads the pancake onto the plate, he bends into the fridge to get some juice.]

Keep going.

[While he gets the rest of the pancake essentials together. Mmmmm butter.]

[She sticks her tongue out at him as he starts getting things from the fridge.]

That was sort of the point!

[She had to prove that she was capable of doing some things right, after all. Especially after her mishap with the knife just a few minutes before. She's still giggling a little as she turns her attention back to the batter and the pan, and she easily resumes ladling it in.

After a moment, she speaks up again.] We've still got that syrup, right? The maple stuff? [One thing she discovered the few times they had pancakes and waffles and so on in the Tower: she really likes maple syrup.]

You don't have to show off for me.

[Point-blank as usual but it's true; he's used to the sound of the wind that surrounds her, the song of the wind that is her. She's not as close to the third fonon, in terms of frequency, as he is to the seventh, but close enough that it breathed with her.

Close enough that to anyone else there wouldn't be a difference. And the third fonon is closest in frequency to the seventh - perhaps that plays a part in it.]

Yeah, I'll get it out.

[personally he can't stand the sticky stuff.]

Just because I don't have to, doesn't mean I don't want to.

[She hums a little as she returns her attention to the cooking. Asch can get the syrup; she'll... continue showing off. Because that, apparently, is also a thing she does around here.

She keeps a careful eye on the food as it cooks and then eases the wind in to flip it. There's something to be said for real control over her powers - of knowing that it is the wind and not some glamour or figment of her imagination or something like that. That's about 25% of the reason she "shows off" so much.

(The other 75% is that she wants to be pulling her weight.)

She grins at him.]

Thanks, Asch! Oh, do we have any fruit juices?

[~~give her a few moments to get creative with the syrup, then he'll like it~~]

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