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[an_honest_man]

 John Silver is a man who knows his way around a kitchen.  Even one that's gleaming with more steel than the entire British Navy's armory.  And this kitchen is a sea cook's dream.  The pantries are stocked to the ceiling, and there's cold storage with fresh meat and eggs and even cheese.

First off, he wants a joint.  Something that isn't pig or bird.  A proper beef joint, like a fine gentleman would have for his Sunday dinner.  And he's going to make it himself.  There's something disturbing about having rats handle his food.  They gave up trying to shoo him out of the kitchen when he waved his crutch at them, nearly taking one's head off.

'Go on!  Bleedin' vermin.  I run a fine establishment, and there are no rats in the larder!'  Well, at least not for long, anyway.  'Get out, or I'll find a cat to turn loose in here, and then you'll see what for!'

He'll have this place up to snuff in no time, given half a chance.

Comments

[sunbaked_baker]

There's a baker in the doorway, peering around the frame.

"Mind if I sneak in to make myself a quick cup of tea?" she asks the stranger in the kitchen.

[an_honest_man]

'Help yourself, luv. Kettle's over there.'

He turns, and his eyebrows go up. Way up.

'Would you like me to fix it for you, ma'am?'

She's easy on the eyes. Not as pretty as his Alibe, but not bad.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine smiles, entering the kitchen and heading for the cabinet where the teas are kept. "Nah. Thank you, though. I got this."

[an_honest_man]

'We've got stronger stuff, too, if you fancy a nip?'

He watches her go, maybe leaning out a bit on that crutch to catch a better view.

'Name's John Silver. Don't believe we've had the pleasure, ma'am?'

[sunbaked_baker]

"Strongly caffeinated is as strong as I intend to get, today. Too much to do," Rae chuckles, fetching a pretty tea tin down from the cabinet.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Silver," she replies. "I'm Rae Seddon, though most people call me Sunshine."

[an_honest_man]

'An' well they should. Sunshine. I do remember you now. You met me the first day I was brought in 'ere. How could I be so stupid as to forget your shining face?'

He makes his way over to her and offers a hand.

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae shakes his hand readily, smiling. The calluses on her hands aren't all those of a baker. "I thought you looked somewhat familiar."

It's probably the crutch.

"Would you want a cup of tea?"

[an_honest_man]

'That sounds delightful. Gimme a moment to set things a'right, and I'll join you.'

He's not that far off completing the potatoes to go in with the roast, and his hands fly as he finishes up.

'It'll do me good to get off my foot,' he says, throwing her a wink.

[sunbaked_baker]

"I bet," she says, smiling as she pours water into the kettle. "Though you seem to know your way around a kitchen."

She can respect that, most definitely. Even if she hasn't spared more than a brief glance to what he is making.

[an_honest_man]

'I should hope so. S'my job to feed a few dozen hungry sailors every day, morning, noon, and night.'

In no time at all, he's shoving a cast iron pot into the oven, and peering at the dials.

'Erm...'

Okay, this may be a bit beyond him.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine glances over, at the sound of hesitation. Oh! Right.

"I've always wondered about why so much of Milliways gravitates towards late 20th, early 21st century tech," she says, approaching the oven. "What are you making?"

[an_honest_man]

He hefts the heavy lid off, showing her a slab of meat surrounded by potatoes, onions, carrots and a few sprigs of rosemary.

'Just a bit of a Sunday joint, luv. I'm used to cooking over an open flame. These are all fine and dandy, but they're a might confusing, to one such as myself.'

He starts fiddling with the dials, leaning heavily on the stove so he can peer down into the oven as he does.

'No coals here to work with. How's a bloke supposed to cook without any coals?'

[sunbaked_baker]

"Hold up for a sec," she says, heading over to a shelf of recipe books. Handy, those. "I don't eat meat, myself, or else I could tell you how hot to set it."

"Ovens like this, you just tell it how hot you want it to be, to cook what you're wanting to cook, and it'll stay at that temperature until you turn it off," Rae explains, flipping through one of the likelier-looking cookbooks.

[an_honest_man]

He hobbles after her, curious what she's up to. He wrinkles his brow, peering over her shoulder at the shelf of books. He reads fairly well for a man of his era, and is rather kicking himself that he didn't check to see if there were notes. He's never seen a published cookbook before.

'It's four pounds, and with the -- here, let me see that.'

He winks at her as he gently takes the book, flipping through it like the reverend in search of scripture as he makes his way back to the His finger lands on a page, pinning it, and then he looks back up at her.

'And these knobs, here? There's no "ROAST" button.'

[sunbaked_baker]

"There should be a suggested temperature and time for a roast, in the recipe book," Rae says, following. "To set the oven, you just turn the knob to the right temperature, and it'll heat up. Then you set the oven timer, and it'll ring when it's done."

[an_honest_man]

His chin drops and his eyebrows go up. 'Yeah? That simple, huh? No wonder they have vermin doing a man's work.'

He leans in, hopping on his crutch, and dials up the proper number. Again, he leans back and chuffs when the pilot light catches.

'Well, I'll be. That's brilliant. Thank you, Sunshine. I am indebted for your assistance. Now, come sit and tell me why you don't eat meat. Sounds right unhealthy, if you ask me.'

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine chuckles, going to prepare the pot for the water that will soon be boiling.

"There are some in my world who'd tell you eating meat is unhealthy, too," she grins, measuring out the jasmine green tea. "But that's not why I don't eat it. Fact is, I can't eat it."

[an_honest_man]

Silver drags over a chair and slumps down in it, propping his crutch up against the counter. He takes a moment to massage his thighs, eyeing her somewhat skeptically.

'Can't? What, does it make you ill?'

[sunbaked_baker]

"Yep," she says, watching the steam beginning to rise from the kettle. "I can't even react to it as though it was food."

Only like it was a hacked-up piece of some dead thing.

[an_honest_man]

He leans back in his chair, watching her shoulders tense up a bit.

'Well, that's a shame. Suppose that means I'll have to bake you a cake, or -- a trifle, or something similar.'

He looks like he's puzzling through his options.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Careful," Rae smiles at him over her shoulder. "I'm a professional baker - I'm a tough judge of cakes."

Bewaaaaaare. ^_^

"How do you take your tea?"

[wheatencrown]

Demeter has been having a busy summer and her garden is full of figs so she's brought a basket to Milliways.

She stops at the door and watches John, "Enjoying yourself?"

[an_honest_man]

'As well as a man can, without a belly full of grog and a beautiful -- '

Mr. Silver turns to see who he's addressing and his words trail off.

'Sweet mother Mary.' He blinks. 'Are those fresh figs?'

Nice save, John.

[wheatencrown]

"Wrong mother, I'm Demeter and yes, they're from a tree in my garden. I thought someone could find a use for them here,"

Her feet are bare and she easily dodges the rats as she sets the figs down.

[an_honest_man]

He has to reach for his crutch, and he takes a moment to smooth out the non-existent creases in his coat.

'I don't believe I've had the honor, Miss?'

He hobbles over to her and extends a hand in greeting.

[wheatencrown]

She smiles and shakes his hand, hers is calloused through years of work in the garden,

"No, I think I would remember you. As I said I'm Demeter."

[an_honest_man]

'Demeter... As in...'

He's still holding her hand, bending to brush a kiss across her knuckles, wobbling a bit on his crutch.

'The woman who brought Hades to his knees?'

[wheatencrown]

"No, that would be my daughter, but I do like putting the situation that way."

[an_honest_man]

'Well, forgive me for not showing proper respect, my lady.' He dips his chin to indicate his stump. 'I only have the one, and it makes getting up and down a bit of a spectacle. Come in, come in. Can I get you anything? Cup of tea, perhaps?'

That's what proper ladies drink around here, isn't it?

[wheatencrown]

"No need to apologize. What are you up to in here? I'd prefer some wine, join me for a glass."

[an_honest_man]

His eyebrows go up and he greets her suggestion with a broad grin.

'I remember you Mediterranean lasses. Get a sailor drunk, and separate him from his coin, I know how you are.' The tone of his voice suggests those were some of the happiest days of his youth.

He's already snapping his fingers at a rat, and moving to find some glasses.

'We should find some cheese, to go with these beautiful figs.' And the wine, of course. He makes his way over to one of the many shelves, and pulls out a bottle of red. (Men like him always know where the stash is.)

[wheatencrown]

"Ah yes, I should have brought some with me,"

She goes to the fridge and starts looking for a good cheese and finds a nice goat.

[an_honest_man]

Mr. Silver leaves the bottle of wine on the sideboard, and takes up the basket of figs, moving to the sink to rinse them off.

'Lady Demeter. I knew a ship once, carried your name. She was long of line, sleek, and good in a fight.'

[wheatencrown]

"That seems appropriate. I've never sailed that much, Poseidon and I don't get along."

[an_honest_man]

'Oh, aye. He can be a right bastard, when he wants to be.'

Figs washed, he dumps them on a cloth to dry and carry them over to where the cheese is laid on the board.

That done, he pulls the cork on the wine bottle and pours them two hefty portions.

'So, what are we drinking to?'

[wheatencrown]

"A good summer and yes, all of my brothers can be,"

They have their uses but she'd rather forget that they exist.

[an_honest_man]

'Aye, to a good summer then. May fair winds find you, where'ere you are.'

He clinks his glass to hers and drinks.

[wheatencrown]

"Fair winds, yes, you are more Poseidon's than mine if you're anyone's."

[an_honest_man]

He grins at her and gives her a bit of wink.

'No, ma'am, if you don't mind my saying. I am a good Christian lad. I go to Church every chance I get.'

He belongs to the Devil, though he'd never admit it in polite company.

[wheatencrown]

"Of course, of course, we're just stories except when we're real."

slowtimes, but had to.

[change_my_story]

It's not often that Matilda sees a man in the kitchen-or at the very least looking like he actually knew what he was doing. The man's accent and (well, she was only five years old) lack of a leg also catch her attention.

She's only in the kitchen to explore, maybe make some beef tea. She could order some from bar, but there was just something about heating up a cup for one's self.

Most of this was forgotten when she saw the one-legged man shooing out the rats. "Are you a chef?"

Re: slowtimes, but had to.

[an_honest_man]

Mister Silver turns when he hears the child's voice.

'No, Miss. I am naught but a simple cook. But I might be able to scare you up something sweet?'

He hobbles over to her and bends down, extending a hand in greeting.

'Name's John Silver. Pleasure to meet you, Miss?'

Re: slowtimes, but had to.

[change_my_story]

"Actually, I was going to make myself some beef tea, but something sweet would be nice." That wasn't to say that she would automatically accept sweets from a stranger, she's read too many stories to know better, but if she's in the kitchen with him than she could see what he chooses to put in whatever he's making.

She manages to not stare where his leg should be-actually a fairly easy thing considering his height compared to hers-and shakes his hand when he extends it to her. "Matilda Wormwood, it's nice to meet you too."

Of course she knows the name from the story (it does explain a lot), but she's been in milliways long enough to know how to behave around 'characters'.

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth is not a woman who knows her way around a kitchen. At home in Port Royal, she would have sooner shown her face in the actual servants quarters. On board the Empress she does occasionally check up on their rations, but Tai Huang oversees what's done with them.

He'd had to, after the first poisoning attempt, and had agreed to keep on doing so if Elizabeth continued procuring quality meats, cheeses, fruit, and rum -- inexplicably, of course, but that is part of why she's still Captain and not a member of Will's permanent crew.

Tonight she intends to pilfer some beef from Milliways's vast stock. She has no qualms about doing so; Mike had given her leave to have whatever she needed when she was pregnant.

She chooses to take that as a permanent offer.

"It is difficult to set aside old prejudices, is it not?" she asks from the doorway, lips curved in a smirk as she catches the end of this stranger's threat. "A rat is ever rat, no matter that they can do tricks."

Her clothes are stiff but clean, silver on black, inherited from Sao Feng, and she wears a sword with apparent ease. Salt crusts her sun-bleached brown hair, and there are faint but proud lines developing around her eyes.