The Pie Maker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wordvomit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2014-06-27 06:51 pm
wordvomit) wrote in entrancelogs2014-06-27 06:51 pm
[OPEN] your very own mental breakdown
Who: Ned the Pie Maker and YOU
Where: first-floor kitchen
When: FIRST DAY OF THE EVENT; June 27th
Rating: PG to PG-13
Summary: kjsbdjLKADHJFKMWHY
The Story:
Why?
[Ned awoke to the event feeling the same way he does every other day when he wakes up: normal, slightly sluggish, and needing a quiet jolt of caffeine to his system. The abnormality in the early morning rise came in the form of a bona-fide swarm of diminutive dogs - puppies, to be exact - all of whom looked exactly like miniature versions of Digby.
But it isn't the frequent in-kitchen canine collisions that have him so bent out of shape, like a pipe cleaner twisted too far to be returned to its original perfectly pointy and straight form. No, it is that Ned has retrieved his usual assortment of rotten fruit from a special cooler in the back, intending to bake them into today's batch of pies, and that his first touch to a particularly moldy strawberry has yielded...
...nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The power that has plagued him, consumed his life and dictated his actions for so long, is simply...gone. That cannot be, he thinks, reaching for a handful of blueberries and, for his troubles, receives nothing more than mildew and mush.]
No.
[The kiwis, the bananas, the cherries and apples. All of them, the same result. All of them varying unappetizing shades of brown, gray, and green.
Ned is not yet certain what frustrates him more, the fact that his terrifying Gift refuses to work in a place where no one knows him, or the fact that his terrifying Gift refuses to work and he isn't at home in The Pie Hole, with Chuck, pulling her into a kiss to celebrate his ability to touch her the way he never could.]
No, no no no...no, not here. Why- ...why?! Why now? Why not- wh-why not...
[Why not at home, where it really matters most?]
Where: first-floor kitchen
When: FIRST DAY OF THE EVENT; June 27th
Rating: PG to PG-13
Summary: kjsbdjLKADHJFKMWHY
The Story:
Why?
[Ned awoke to the event feeling the same way he does every other day when he wakes up: normal, slightly sluggish, and needing a quiet jolt of caffeine to his system. The abnormality in the early morning rise came in the form of a bona-fide swarm of diminutive dogs - puppies, to be exact - all of whom looked exactly like miniature versions of Digby.
But it isn't the frequent in-kitchen canine collisions that have him so bent out of shape, like a pipe cleaner twisted too far to be returned to its original perfectly pointy and straight form. No, it is that Ned has retrieved his usual assortment of rotten fruit from a special cooler in the back, intending to bake them into today's batch of pies, and that his first touch to a particularly moldy strawberry has yielded...
...nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The power that has plagued him, consumed his life and dictated his actions for so long, is simply...gone. That cannot be, he thinks, reaching for a handful of blueberries and, for his troubles, receives nothing more than mildew and mush.]
No.
[The kiwis, the bananas, the cherries and apples. All of them, the same result. All of them varying unappetizing shades of brown, gray, and green.
Ned is not yet certain what frustrates him more, the fact that his terrifying Gift refuses to work in a place where no one knows him, or the fact that his terrifying Gift refuses to work and he isn't at home in The Pie Hole, with Chuck, pulling her into a kiss to celebrate his ability to touch her the way he never could.]
No, no no no...no, not here. Why- ...why?! Why now? Why not- wh-why not...
[Why not at home, where it really matters most?]
no subject
The Pie Maker's Third Law of Thermodynamics, as it were. (He got the shit kicked out of him once, and isn't keen to have it happen again.)
Taking that into account, it is understandable that as a stranger approaches him in the kitchen during his time of extreme vulnerability, Ned backs away with the same number of steps, his hands clutched tightly behind him as he shakes his head.]
I- I- ...y-yes, of course there is, I'm just- it's...it was an overreaction, I'm being- silly. The kitchen is playing tricks on me like some kind of sentient culinary prankster, is all.
[Finally Ned looks at his guest, whose voice was unfamiliar, and does an expert double-take at the face. He looks like a younger version of Will.]
...do I know you?
no subject
Well, I wouldn't put it past it. It is a kitchen in Wonderland, after all.
[But he hasn't heard of certain rooms playing tricks on people... And he's still really confused about the gross fruit. What kind of trick would the kitchen, or anyone, be playing on him that involves mouldy old fruit?
However, his attention is drawn away from this fact with the question. Blinking in surprise, he looks back at Ned and surveys his face, just in case he missed the fact that he knows the guy. But no, he's definitely entirely unfamiliar.]
Uh, I don't think so. I mean, I've never met you, but you could have seen me around...?
[He'd maybe been expecting questions like this since he's out of his armour for the first time in like, ever, but not from people he hasn't met before.]
no subject
...maybe.
[It's unlikely. Ned just assumes it's a weird coincidence despite the fact that coincidences are things in which he ardently does not believe.]
I'm Ned.
[Hands in his pockets, he nods his head politely.]
no subject
Nice to actually meet you, Ned.
[He smiles with a flicker of amusement, though it dies down pretty quickly.]
I'm Wash. Well, Washington, but Wash is shorter and easier on everyone. [It occurs to him to offer a handshake, but taking note of Ned's hands firmly planted in his pockets, Wash opts to just return the nod. He then proceeds to glance back at the fruit, unable to get it out of his mind. It's hard to just get past something like walking in on someone so distressed over decaying fruit, okay.] So... You mind if I ask you what's up with all the mouldy fruit?
no subject
Ned keeps his hands in his pockets because the last time he shook someone's hand in Wonderland, it turned out that the man was dead and for sixty brief seconds Philip the Beekeeping Physicist experienced a much more colorful, saturated, and vivid world...before it faded away and left him the way he had been before, which Ned suspects qualified as some variety of 'miserable.']
I'm...not sure, actually, I was...
[Screaming on the inside not two minutes ago, wishing someone would just execute an emotional Heimlich Maneuver on him.]
...planning on making pie, but I'm not sure that's happening anymore.
no subject
He doesn't respond right away, letting the information process fully, making sure he's heard it all right. Because...yeah, it still doesn't make any sense.]
...But there's fresh fruit in the fridge. [Flatly, he sort of just...stares at Ned.] Or you could just make it appear, considering this is Wonderland.
[No, seriously. There are so many ways that someone can get fresh fruit, and Wash is just completely baffled by the fact that someone is sitting here in distress because of some fruit that's somehow managed to go bad. And letting that change their mind about making a pie. Does it have to be that fruit specifically, or something?]
I don't think I understand why finding some gross old fruit would change anything about making a pie.
no subject
I...I just...
[The truth is that Ned would really like to pull another bowl of rotting fruit from a cupboard and shove his hands right into it, to see if things have really changed for him. Maybe he should try it multiple times. Maybe he's simply having a bad dream.]
...I'm not sure if I'm in the mood. Anymore.
no subject
It...makes him feel kind of bad. No matter how confused he is by this whole ordeal, Wash starts to sympathize with him and just nods like he totally gets it. Even if he absolutely doesn't.]
Okay then. That's fine, I was just... It was just a suggestion.
[Running his hand awkwardly through his hair, he suffers with a fair amount of his own discomfort now, feeling awkward just standing there.]
Uh, well, if you don't feel like making a pie, you could just ask for one instead?
[Is that a helpful suggestion? He hopes so. And he'd be totally willing to join Ned in eating any pie he asked Wonderland for.]
no subject
...I have pie in the fridge,
[he volunteers abruptly, unsure if he interrupted Wash or not. Ned pauses and waits for a moment before adding.]
I...made them yesterday. Uh. Coconut cream and lemon custard?
[Either sound enticing?]
no subject
...Well, he had come into the kitchen for a reason. Hunger. And pie sounded like a really good way to solve that problem.]
Really? [Trying to contain his interest and maybe slight excitement.] Those sound good.
[But is he being invited to eat them, that's the question.]
Were you, uh, planning on eating them?
no subject
I'm not hungry,
[the Pie Maker replies with a shrug, turning to fetch both pies from the fridge. It isn't a lie, but Ned is also hesitant about eating something that may or may not rot on his tongue. With his power gone it's difficult to say.]
no subject
[...So... What's that mean? No pie, or pie?
Wash supposes he gets his answer when Ned turns to get them out of the fridge. Standing there awkwardly, he rubs at the back of his neck and eyes the pies as they're pulled out. They look really good, but he doesn't want to go and eat something the guy spent his own time on if he's not even going to have any. That feels rude, or something.]
Well, I-- You don't have to worry about it then. [Waving his hands in front of himself, he shakes his head and wears an apologetic expression.] I don't want to go eating your pies on you.
no subject
...No, I mean, I bake just...because I like to bake. I can't eat them all, help yourself.