To see an opera

[sunbaked_baker]

(Up in her room, Rae gets ready.)


When Sunshine comes down the stairs, today, she may not look wholly like herself. The baker is usually seen in the bar wearing bright t-shirts or sweaters, with colorful jeans and sneakers, her hair up in a ponytail or held back by a likewise colorful kerchief. One colorfully casual customer.

Today her hair is down, tumbling about her scarred shoulders in loose waves of red, and what she wears is not her normal style at all.

She takes care with her steps, and not just because of the silver heels that grace her feet. As she moves down the stairs, Rae consciously straightens her spine against the fluttery nervous feeling in her stomach, and hopes it will soon pass.

This is going to be an enjoyable outing. Rae refuses to let her feelings of self-consciousness mar it.



(ooc: Sunshine will likely be out of the bar for a while after this, so any and all threads are welcome, but will be millitimed to before her thread with Hannibal Lecter.)

Comments

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh, I'm thinking a shrinking spell and an extra-large purse," she chuckles, moving around the island to look at the gas range set into it.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal is swiftly slicing a carrot while she explores.

"As long as the shrinking spell removed the weight, you should be fine," he says. "My refrigerator is quite well-filled."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Alas, a flaw in my plan," Rae smiles, stepping over to look at the ovens. "And a kitchen is complicated enough I don't think I could transmute it into something sufficiently smaller and lighter."

The ovens are where the bulk of her interest lies, of course, as a baker. Maybe she could make off with just one of those?

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter opens a container, and ceremoniously places two perfect spears of asparagus on each plate.

"It's very useful to have two ovens," he supplies, in a chatty tone of voice. "In fact, it would often be quite hard to work with only one."

[sunbaked_baker]

"It would," Rae nods, looking over the many settings. "I have two in my bakery, but not nearly so nice as this. The big Prometheus oven in the main kitchens is the apple of Mel's eye."

[cook_the_rude]

"I don't know what your world's Prometheus brand compares to what we get in my world," Hannibal says, placing some tiny tomatoes on the plates. "But my ovens are home appliances, not really made for the heavy duty of a professional baker's oven. Of course, the best kind of home appliances I could find."

[sunbaked_baker]

She bets they are. "My bakery ovens have stood up to everything I've thrown at them. They're very reliable, and are calibrated well, but they're not the best."

There is always an allure when it comes to top-of-the-line appliances. Top-of-the-line anything. Like a photographer wanting the best camera.

With "You can see the connection between working with motorcycles and cooking when you see an industrial-strength oven and stove going full-blast at the dinner rush," Rae smiles, meandering back towards where Dr. Lecter is assembling their plates.

[cook_the_rude]

He is now drizzling glassa di balsamico in minute quantities over the vegetables.

"That is what you want in a professional oven," Hannibal says. "If they gave up their ghost in the middle of the rush, it would be much worse than running out of cinnamon."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh much, much worse," she agrees, smiling at the vibrant smells of the drizzled glaze. "Might as well run out of flour."

[cook_the_rude]

"You need sturdy, I can afford fancy," Dr. Lecter says. "Should they ever break down, it's an annoyance, not an emergency. Not threatening my livelihood."

He takes out a small container of a saffron coloured dressing, and carefully drizzles a spoonful over each plate.

"Shall we return to the dining room, or have our snack here where you can ogle the shiny?" he says, smiling.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh, here, definitely," Rae smiles, chuckling. The kitchen has much more that is to her tastes for ogling, than the dining room with its antlers, horns, and rococo painting.

"I've already been thinking what I might get for my kitchen at home, with what the wedding cake brings me."

Six hundred dollars for a cake is nothing to sneeze at.

[cook_the_rude]

"What do you need?" Hannibal asks, cutting a few slices of baguette to go with the salad. "Or rather, what do you want?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"I have what I need," Rae replies, smiling, "but I'd like to get a better mixer, for one. A stand mixer with the different attachments for making homemade pasta and such."

She could have a lot of fun, experimenting with something like that.

[cook_the_rude]

"That is an excellent idea," Dr. Lecter says. "I'd recommend the one that I have, but I doubt you get the same brands and models in your world."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I've not found a brand name yet that crosses between worlds," she says, wryly. "The occasional book or movie, yeah, but not brands."

She can say she drives an 1989 Apollo Aruna without having to cringe.

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter scatters a few herbs over the salads, then serves them, with the bread in a basket between them.

He steps around the island, and smoothly sits on a stool. "Bon appetit," he says. "What books and movies are the same?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Thank you," Rae says with a smile, settling before her plate.

"There are only a few I know for sure cross over, but there are likely plenty of others. Dracula - I knew that one crossed over even before I met him - Sherlock Holmes, Godzilla, Polidori's The Vampyre, Le Fanu's Carmilla... Autor and I discussed The Count of Monte Cristo together, the first time we met - though from what he says it was also his suggestion that led me to read it in the first place, as a kid," Rae chuckles slightly. Time lines, man, how do they work?. She makes sure to get a bit of each ingredient in the salad before she takes a careful bite.

"Mm," she says, wondering at the sauce. "That's lovely, Dr. Lecter."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal is watching her eat, as if trying to gauge her reaction.

"Is Dracula really the same?" he wonders then, while starting on his own salad. "There is some heavy Christian symbolism in that one. And The Count of Monte Christo means your world must have had a France, and Napoleon."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'm not sure of it being the same, really, in any case. But the shape of the work remains," Rae says, thinking as she prepares another bite. Though the topic is an intriguing one, she eats with every sign of enjoyment. "The author of Dracula in my world was Christian, and did put his own religion's symbolism into the story - but then, it's pretty widely known that much of what is stated in the book to be true, isn't. Now, at least. Even a century and a half later, the lingering belief that garlic and holy water repel vampires led to heavy death tolls in that part of the world during the Wars."

Legends die hard. Mrs. Yanovsky's point, exactly.

"Vlad as I met him in the bar is most definitely not the character in the book Dracula as I know it."

She knew that the moment he revealed who he was.

"It's likely there are many different versions of the same stories, of the same people. An opera of a Bible story of a historical king, just across worlds."

[cook_the_rude]

"That is how many of our stories have carried across worlds," Dr. Lecter nods, eating one of the small tomatoes. "And vampires are different in every world, I think, so with all the fictional variants, nobody can e certain about anything."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Would explain how so many worlds that don't have vampires have stories about them," Rae muses, carefully spearing a tomato with a tine of her fork so it doesn't roll upon her plate, then touching it to a small dollop of the saffron-colored dressing so it and the balsamic glaze blend. "And some worlds that do have them follow different rules. Silver and garlic and graveyards and... teen romance, and so on."

Yech. The tiny, tart tomato with the dressing and glaze and herbs leaves a much better taste in her mouth.

"Stories and legends and peoples' lives carried across, changing depending on the world that interprets them. All meeting at Milliways."

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter watches her eat, almost avidly.

"Teen romance," he echoes. "I don't really understand that part, but I think those books are quite a large thing in this world. And movies of them, as far as I know. Yech."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Yech, indeed," she echoes, with a brief raise of her eyebrows. "I was shocked the first time I heard that's the primary association some worlds have with stories of vampires. With screaming, vehement fans, even."

Eek.

"Media depicting romantic relationships between humans and vampires are flatly illegal, in my world. They still get made, of course, but the penalties for getting caught are steep. Usually fantasies about vampires are limited to a brief moment in adolescence, with the heady thoughts of power associated with the rule of vampires having to be invited. Then the kid grows up a bit, realizes what would happen the split second after they issued that invitation, and moves on with their life."

[cook_the_rude]

"Making them illegal might only make them more interesting," Dr. Lecter says. "I don't believe in censuring media. Not even that -- Dawn or Dusk series, or whatever it was called."

Pause, while he eats a spear of asparagus.

"But power over a monster, if only for a tiny moment, is a heady fantasy."

[sunbaked_baker]

"They were illegal long before the Wars - and the Wars only served to help curtail that genre's audience," Rae remarks, savoring a bit of avocado. "These days most people don't want to think about vampires at all, let alone think of them in a romantic sense."

"The short-lived teen power fantasy tends to overlook that while a vampire can neither drink nor have sex with a person without an invitation, they can still kill someone at will. They just wouldn't get a square meal out of the deal."