[He's not gonna lie: Adra finds it difficult to believe that Sariel has experience with anything, even after just meeting him. He chides himself for making assumptions--a bad habit--and waves Sariel over. He's got an array of knives hanging from magnetic strips on the wall, each one shiny clean and perfectly sharp. He grabs one by its handle and offers it to Sariel: it's big, about seven inches long, with hollow edge depressions along the blade.]
For cooking, or ...?
[He's guiding Sariel to a bowl of oranges, anyway. Placing one on the cutting board, he gestures between it and the knife.]
Well, I guess it doesn't really matter. I just need these sliced.
[ sometimes the life of a primal beast can be surprisingly simple, but once they're faced with the more mundane things in life - like cooking, for example - most of them will adapt to it like fish on water, and others, well. others are a bit more like sariel in that regard, confused, unsure of what to do, but more than willing to learn.
he takes the knife that was given to him and holds it properly. while the scythe is his weapon of choice, he knows how to hold a dagger and this is close enough to its shape. ]
Not for cooking.
[ and he doesn't say much more beyond that.
blinking, he looks down at the bowl of oranges. he reaches for the one on the cutting board and slices it neatly in half. no fingers nor ants were harmed during the entire ordeal. ]
[He won't force Sariel to elaborate. But he's got a pretty good guess, now. It makes him more curious, and a little concerned, too--just what is this man? There's an innocent gentleness to him, but Adra only knows of a few primary uses for knives outside of the kitchen and he's not sure this guy is a craftsman, either.
That was a good slice, though.]
That's a good start. I'll need you to cut it up into a bunch of smaller slices, though--like this.
[He turns and takes a little finished chiffon pie out of the fridge; it's decorated with small, candied orange slices and elegant swirls of whipped cream.]
I'm gonna boil these up and cover them in sugar. Makes a nice garnish.
[ it's not like it's a huge secret. the problem mostly lies with the fact that sariel has no idea how to carry a conversation, so details he can expand on or talk about are just lost on him. he'll get better one day, but thankfully adra doesn't seem to mind.
he watches adra gesture at the candied slices so he can see what kind of cuts he needs to do before nodding his head. ]
I'll do that, then.
[ the pie sure is getting a bunch of curious looks from him. he'd never seen anything like it but he does his best to pay attention to the task at hand. it's a miracle there are no severed fingers just yet. ]
Garnish...? It needs more?
[ he doesn't know any better when it comes to baking, so maybe the pie does need a few more orange slices. who knows! ]
[Sariel isn't childish, nor is he even really childlike--but there's something off about him, nevertheless. He's like a book filled with largely blank pages. He cuts the orange precisely, and with no trouble, but his sense of why he's doing it or what it could be for seems sparse. An inchoate existence.
Adra wants to hover, to watch him, but the man really does know his way around a knife. So he'll leave Sariel to it, and carry out with other tasks just beside him--cutting up other fruit, mixing eggs and flour and sugar into a bowl, this and that. Pretty soon the kitchen is alive with fresh scents and the low hum of a warming oven. It's a good, comforting scene.]
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no subject
For cooking, or ...?
[He's guiding Sariel to a bowl of oranges, anyway. Placing one on the cutting board, he gestures between it and the knife.]
Well, I guess it doesn't really matter. I just need these sliced.
no subject
he takes the knife that was given to him and holds it properly. while the scythe is his weapon of choice, he knows how to hold a dagger and this is close enough to its shape. ]
Not for cooking.
[ and he doesn't say much more beyond that.
blinking, he looks down at the bowl of oranges. he reaches for the one on the cutting board and slices it neatly in half. no fingers nor ants were harmed during the entire ordeal. ]
Like this...?
no subject
[He won't force Sariel to elaborate. But he's got a pretty good guess, now. It makes him more curious, and a little concerned, too--just what is this man? There's an innocent gentleness to him, but Adra only knows of a few primary uses for knives outside of the kitchen and he's not sure this guy is a craftsman, either.
That was a good slice, though.]
That's a good start. I'll need you to cut it up into a bunch of smaller slices, though--like this.
[He turns and takes a little finished chiffon pie out of the fridge; it's decorated with small, candied orange slices and elegant swirls of whipped cream.]
I'm gonna boil these up and cover them in sugar. Makes a nice garnish.
no subject
he watches adra gesture at the candied slices so he can see what kind of cuts he needs to do before nodding his head. ]
I'll do that, then.
[ the pie sure is getting a bunch of curious looks from him. he'd never seen anything like it but he does his best to pay attention to the task at hand. it's a miracle there are no severed fingers just yet. ]
Garnish...? It needs more?
[ he doesn't know any better when it comes to baking, so maybe the pie does need a few more orange slices. who knows! ]
no subject
[Sariel isn't childish, nor is he even really childlike--but there's something off about him, nevertheless. He's like a book filled with largely blank pages. He cuts the orange precisely, and with no trouble, but his sense of why he's doing it or what it could be for seems sparse. An inchoate existence.
Adra wants to hover, to watch him, but the man really does know his way around a knife. So he'll leave Sariel to it, and carry out with other tasks just beside him--cutting up other fruit, mixing eggs and flour and sugar into a bowl, this and that. Pretty soon the kitchen is alive with fresh scents and the low hum of a warming oven. It's a good, comforting scene.]
Thanks for your help.