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[indent][indent][color=808080]To her comment about leftover pizza, Wes stated the following, partly joking with a slight seriousness in his tone: [color=#667c0c]"Is that supposed to be a bad thing?" [/color]

And of course, he would say that. Back in high school, Wes had practically survived on a diet of vending machine burritos, cold fries, and whatever junk food he could mooch from her lunchbox. He was the guy who once argued with a science teacher that Doritos counted as a vegetable because they were technically made from corn. So, the idea of him defending leftover pizza as not just acceptable but actually desirable was perfectly and infuriatingly in character for him. 

[color=#3b9ae1]“Depends,” [/color]Rae said, leaning into the banter.[color=#3b9ae1]“If it’s one-day-old pepperoni, then no, that’s survival fuel. But if it’s mystery meat from… I dunno… a week ago? Then it’s just me slowly dying of food poisoning in my brand-new cabin. Not exactly the heroic first impression I was going for.”[/color]

[color=#667c0c]"Gonna be honest, if there’s a kitchen in my cabin, I don’t think I’ve ever used it,"[/color]Wes admitted with an awkward laugh.[color=#667c0c]"The Main Hall always has food, and I’m not a very good cook. Know your strengths, right?"[/color]

Rae snorted softly, adjusting the strap of her coat where it hung over her arm.[color=#3b9ae1]“Yeah, know your strengths. Mine just happen to involve wiring circuit boards until three in the morning and occasionally setting things on fire.” [/color] She tilted her head, her lips quirking into a smile as she added,[color=#3b9ae1]“Accidentally. Mostly.”[/color]

Then, she turned to her other companion for the night, Idris, and asked about his own kitchen experience.

[color=#d87093]“I practically grew up in my mom’s restaurant back in Halifax, and I fell in love with the craft!  She taught me everything she knew, and I worked most nights back there with her until I went off to college.  In the end, I did come back and was actually preparing to open the restaurant for the breakfast crowd when dad showed up and sent me here.” [/color] Idris looked over towards Rae, a wry expression on his face. [color=#d87093]“Kinda a dick move if you ask me, but it was my first interaction with any god, so I don’t know if that is typical of a God, or if it is just him.”[/color]

Rae slowed her steps as they reached the front of the cabin, but Idris’s words tugged her attention away from the building itself. A restaurant kid? That explained the calm, assured way he’d talked about cooking earlier. It wasn’t just confidence; it was muscle memory. She tried to picture a younger Idris hauling crates of produce or sneaking bites off a prep line while his mom barked orders in the background. The image made her lips curve upwards.

Wes sidestepped and gestured for Idris to lead the way.[color=#667c0c]"It’s your home. Feel like you should be first," [/color]he offered with a small smile and a nod toward the cabin. [color=#667c0c]"Should be safe. We took care of Jason Vorhees like a year ago."[/color]

[color=#d87093]“Well, my cabin is your cabin,” [/color]Idris chuckled as he moved toward the door.[color=#d87093] “Let's see if the gods know what I like.” [/color]

Rae stepped into Idris’s cabin right behind him, her boots thudding softly against the wooden floor. Her eyes went wide at the sight of the kitchen: gleaming countertops, double stoves, and refrigerators that stood like twin monoliths. It was enough to make her whistle low under her breath.

[color=#3b9ae1]“Damn,”[/color] she muttered, her gaze flicking from the professional griddle to the spacious island sink.[color=#3b9ae1]“This is like… Iron Chef meets Martha Stewart. I was expecting maybe, I don’t know, a hot plate and a dented kettle. Not this.” [/color]

For a brief second, she let herself imagine her own cabin having this kind of setup—a dream she quickly shut down. If Wes was right about the cabins tailoring themselves to their owners, hers would probably look more like a scrapyard workshop than a five-star kitchen. Which, honestly, wasn’t the worst thought. Toolbenches and half-finished projects were more “home” to her than any granite island could ever be.

But then Idris’s kitchen wasn’t the only thing that caught her eye.

Rae’s attention slid sideways, drawn to the garish stage setup dominating the opposite wall. A karaoke machine stood proudly, complete with flashing lights and a literal spotlight. 

Her brain hiccuped.

[color=#3b9ae1][i]Oh, hell no.[/i][/color]

Karaoke and Rae had never been on speaking terms. The last time she’d been talked into it—by an overly persistent lab partner during a campus mixer—she’d spent half the song mumbling into the mic like a dying modem while her audience dissolved into secondhand embarrassment. Her voice wasn’t [i]bad[/i] exactly, just… better suited for muttering equations under her breath than belting out Beyoncé. Ever since then, karaoke has lived on her personal blacklist, somewhere between “public group projects” and “open water swimming.”

Rae dragged her gaze away from the monstrosity before her face could betray too much. Of course, the gods would saddle Idris with something so absurd; wasn’t that their thing, picking out the one insecurity you didn’t want aired and turning it into home décor? Based on the man’s slightly bewildered demeanour, that appeared to be the case.

She watched as Idris walked to the first fridge and opened it, inspecting the contents. He turned back to face Rae and Wes with a triumphant smile.

[color=#d87093]“It looks like I should be able to cook something from the restaurant!”[/color]

Rae’s mouth opened as if she might say something about the kitchen—or, god forbid, the karaoke setup—but then her gaze snagged on the clock display glowing faintly above the cabin door. Her stomach gave a little lurch. Just a few minutes until midnight. The countdown, the fireworks, all of it.

[color=#3b9ae1]“Cooking sounds amazing,”[/color] she said quickly, almost too quickly, trying not to let the time pressure leak into her tone.[color=#3b9ae1]“Seriously, if you can whip up even half of what you’re promising, I’m cashing in that raincheck. But maybe not right this second.”[/color]

Her thumb jerked toward the window where bursts of colour would soon halo the night sky.

[color=#3b9ae1]“It’s, uh… about to be the new year. First one at camp and all that for me. So… food some other time, maybe? Deal?”[/color]

[/color][/indent][/indent][hr]Location: Idris's Cabin   
Interactions: Wes ([@Mjolnir]), Idris ([@NoriWasHere]) 
Mentions: N/A