(no subject)

[sunbaked_baker]

Under all the normal bar room sounds of conversation, chairs moving against the floor, rattling plates and cutlery, this afternoon, there may be some quiet but near-inappropriate slurping sounds coming from the kitchen.

Comments

[5ame_heart]

Fives is on the hunt for the kitchen. Mainly because when he asked Bar what was good to eat, Bar produced a napkin with the phrase, in Aurabesh, Go look in the kitchen, and one thing Fives knows already, it's that Bar knows what's good for him.

Which is why eventually the door opens and a clone's head peers in, looking for this mysterious foodstuffs he was promised.

[sunbaked_baker]

The kitchen has had an influx, it seems, of fresh produce. At least twenty-five red fruits ranging in size from small plums to small grapefruits are set out on the counter. And there is also a familiar baker, in a tanktop and jean shorts that don't do much to hide some rather fresh bruising, currently leaning over the sink, her teeth sunk into the very juicy flesh of one of the red fruits (which is dripping all the way to her elbow) and enjoying it heartily.

There's just something about fresh tomatoes in summer.

[5ame_heart]

See, Fives thought Rae was a baker. And bakers, in his experience of none, don't usually have that much bruising on their backs.

(Neither do soldiers: clones don't bruise easily. But sometimes they get some.)

But there's also the more immediate interest in the red fruits and the noises that they are producing.

"That good, huh?" he says from the door, but is immediately approaching, because if any of that fruit is available, he wants.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine startles just slightly, looking carefully over her shoulder to try and keep from making a mess as she hurriedly chews and swallows.

"Absolutely!" she says, wiping the drips from her chin with the heel of her hand and straightening up. Three of the deeply red fruits are still beaded with water from being washed, and she offers Fives one. "Fresh tomatoes from the garden, still warm from the sun, are like concentrated summer."

[5ame_heart]

He takes the tomato off her, weighing it in his hand, and giving it faint squeeze, intent on getting the feel of the thing before he just bites into it.


"Is that what I looked like when you gave me that cheese?" he asks, with a nod towards the expression on her face, and a faintly teasing one on his.

[sunbaked_baker]

The tomato flesh gives slightly under pressure on its thin skin. It promises (threatens?) to be very juicy.

"Probably," Sunshine laughs, her own half-eaten tomato still in her hand held carefully over the sink. "Tomatoes are not everyone's cup of tea - not everyone's favorite - but I love them when they're fresh. They're tangy and acidic and taste like summer."

Anemic winter hothouse tomatoes are charlatans and fakers. Hardly the same fruit at all.

[5ame_heart]

He grins at her again before turning his attention to the tomato, wiping a droplet of water off with his thumb before he brings it up to his mouth, leaning forward slightly over the cupped palm of his other hand, and bites in carefully.

Predictably, there is a squirt of juice from the fruit right into his hand, but also a bit that misses, and a fair amount drips down into his beard.

"Oh that is good," he says, a little more experienced that previously, but no less appreciative.

[undead_radish_seller]

This one is new.

He's very pale, his hair is long and stringy, his robes are dark and frayed, he wears a worn-out conical straw hat and a string of amber around his neck, and his energies are un-dead in a way that Sunshine probably never has seen.

He sticks his head around the door jamb with a grin both nervous and eager.

"Oh, is this the kitchen?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine is stuck for a moment, mouth full of tomato, head leaned over the sink. Oops. She hurriedly chews and swallows, wiping the unfallen drips of red-tinged juice from her chin with the heel of her free hand before straightening.

"Yes!" she replies belatedly, with a grin. He has... interesting shadows, to say the least. "Sorry - I couldn't resist sampling the fresh tomatoes."

[undead_radish_seller]

"Hello," he says, a bit awkwardly, and steps into the room. "I've never seen that kind of fruit before. Are they very sweet?"

There is an aura of reined-in black smoke around him, trying to writhe in the black vine-lines around his neck, but stopped by powerful magic some, but not all of which, seems to reside in the string of amber.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine lets her attention be taken by the shadows, the strange, smokey tendrils, and the concentrated center formed by that string of amber. She hasn't run into anything that looks like that, before.

"These are tomatoes," she answers. "They are... mm, tangy and acidic, more than sweet. In cooking, they are used more with savory vegetables than with other, sweeter fruit. Would you like to try one?"

[undead_radish_seller]

"Yes, please!" he says, coming closer.

He peers at the tomatoes.

"What a pity I already sold all the radishes; I have nothing to offer in return."

[sunbaked_baker]

"The rest will go into recipes in the coming days, but these three are just about perfect for eating, today," she says, offering with her free hand one of the three tomatoes that have been washed.

"You sell radishes?" It seems like an oddly specific thing to sell.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal comes sauntering in from the back door, a pot with ample greenery casually tucked in his arm.

"Basil?" he offers. "Hello, Sunshine!"

[sunbaked_baker]

When he saunters in, Sunshine has her eyes mostly closed, her teeth sunk into the deeply red flesh of a handful-sized tomato, letting the juice drip off her elbow and into the sink.

It's summer you can eat from your hand. How could she resist?

"Mm-mph." It's almost a 'hello,' but she isn't about to hurry the savoring of a fresh tomato still warm from the summer sun and smelling strongly of the vine, but she can smell the fresh basil he's carrying. What a good addition.

In her free hand, she offers him one of the freshly-washed fruits.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal puts the pot down on the sin beside her and accepts the tomato. "Thank you very much; I do love that powerful scent. And your variation is amazing."

He rolls the fruit in his hands and inhales deeply.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Mm-hmm," she replies, unwilling to pull too much of her attention from savoring. Sunshine may not particularly like Hannibal - her problems with him are well-known to them both - but she knows at least that he will understand: summer tomatoes, still warm from the sun, all juice and acidic bite, the stuff that will happily strip the seasoning from cast iron skillets and roughen one's voice if overindulged.

But who can fully resist? The rest of them will go into any number of recipes over the coming days, but these few? Perfectly ripe? Should be enjoyed unadulterated.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal picks up a knife and cuts his tomato into eights before putting one piece into his mouth.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine has meanwhile taken another bite of her tomato with great gusto, side-eyeing the neatness with which Hannibal sections his tomato.

Anyone ever told you you're weird, Hannibal?

Some things, like BBQ or a perfectly ripe tomato, must be at least a little messy to have been eaten properly. It's part of the experience.

[zenigatcha]

That is a good noise. Or set of noises. It's a little hard to hear when he comes up to the bar, but it's there. Maybe he's just on alert, or maybe he's just lucky. He was exploring the environs in less formal gear -- just comfortable jeans and a very bright orange t-shirt that admittedly strains a little, reading TRAINER over his heart and ICPO on the back across his shoulders.

He was given a note upon arrival to the bar, but he only half looked at it when he realized he could hear the slurping. Peeking around the door he says, "Miss Seddon?"

[sunbaked_baker]

The baker half-leaning over the sink, her mouth full of juicy tomato, freezes, wide-eyed.

She's been caught!

"Hnnighhtah!" It might be his name, if the person speaking was hurriedly chewing and swallowing a gigantic bite of fresh tomato. "Cm... 'scuse me - come have a tomato! I just picked them."

[zenigatcha]

There's just a brief moment of shock, before he leans in the doorway, arms folding over his broad chest. He's amused, grinning broadly. Ah, he likes this one. Good kid.

"You look like you're a vegetarian vampire with all that on your mouth," he said, grabbing his napkin note and passing it to her so she doesn't make further mess, forgetting that Bar asked him about Happy Hour Sunday on it. "Here you go."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Uh..." Sunshine fumbles, first with the distressing mental image - she looks like a vampire?? - and then with the napkin. Her hand is wet from tomato juice, and she belatedly shifts her grip to read what's written on it.

"Um. Happy Hour, Sunday? Wow, you work quick!" Usually she allows newcomers more adjustment time. But he seems pretty well-adjusted already, if she's being honest.

[zenigatcha]

"What?" Zenigata has no idea what Bar's suggested he do, but-- yes, he is remarkably adaptable. You can't chase Lupin into space with aliens if you're not adaptable.

He takes up a tomato, and then asks, "You seriously just eat them like apples?" Because he's honestly never done that before. "Grape ones, they're bite sized, but... big ones?"

[sunbaked_baker]

She turns the damp napkin so he can see the writing. "You didn't notice?"

"As for the tomatoes, I know how I like to eat them when they're fresh from the garden," Rae replies, grinning. "The answer is 'messily, and with great gusto.' But it's not everyone's cup of tea. If you're not sure, try quartering one and sprinkling some flakey salt on it before tasting."