[center][h3]Christmas Village - Culinary Cheffervescence[/h3]
Heismay, Ramattra, and Professor Layton
[b]Setting:[/b] Cloudy Thursday Afternoon
[b]Wordcount:][/b] 3208 (+4)

[img]https://i.imgur.com/Zo1zacs.png[/img][/center]

With some assistance from Mokou, Sandalphon, and some helpful passers-by, Heismay got the fish transferred from the sleds outside to an [url=https://i.imgur.com/XCFUsmz.png]icebox[/url] in one corner of the kitchen. All but the bubbling char, of course, which he tossed beneath the stove after pulling open the squeaky metal hatch. With it being so much warmer in here than outside, the eugief loosened his new costume and pulled off his hood, allowing his ears to unfurl for the first time that morning as he looked around the room. While not the best-equipped kitchen he’d ever seen, this did have all the basic amenities one might need to prepare a good meal. He wasn’t sure if its output could feed the entire village, but it was a start.

Heismay began a more thorough search of the kitchen, including its cupboards and drawers, climbing up onto the cabinets when necessary.

Ramattra tried his best to make his presence easily known to avoid startling the alert Eugief, his metallic legs clacking against the tiled floors of the bare kitchen. If a frown could be painted over Ramattra’s metallic face, it would stretch over its entirety, the open-design outfit from Sectonia and her helpers now donned on his person for the remainder of the evening. “I look ridiculous.” He complained to the scout, the large antlers on his forehead slanting lazily to the side. It didn’t look bad on him, but of course he wasn’t going to admit that.

The Omnic took a couple of steps around the kitchen, inspecting the inventory available, same as Heismay, to inspect what was available to their use. “So, I imagine you have some ideas for the dinner? I must be honest, I don’t have a lick of cooking experience. Perhaps you could direct me through so I may help?” Ramattra was trying his hardest to be polite, though he felt as though he was inserting himself into a task he was inexperienced at. The large coat adorning his body and concealing the dead flesh fell off his body slowly as he removed it, hanging it on a nearby chair.

“Help?” Heismay looked over from the cupboard he was rummaging through. Out of all of the Seekers on this wintry expedition through the Highlands, Ramattra was one of the last he would have expected to offer a helping hand. Appearances could be deceiving, though, as monstrous as the omnic now looked. “Twould be my pleasure to oblige. I’m impressed that you’d volunteer yourself for such a big task. You must have a real heart for people, as they say.” He turned back to his task, carefully pushing aside pots, jars, and other kitchenware. When he found an open sack, he peered inside to find a powdered flea instead of flour. It popped out of the bag, shook itself off, and flew away with a playful [i]awoo[/i]. Heismay watched it go, amused, then got back to his task.  “As for me, I was just…aha!”

With a little effort, the hermit pulled a big bag of flour from pantry, which he rested on the ground. “Today, I shall be cooking with dough! Dough is a most delicate ingredient, and those who lack experience often go afoul of it. But fear not, for I was raised in the grain belt, and our dough shall rise to my standards!” He pointed Ramattra toward a large black pot. “First, we need some water. Luckily, there is plenty outside. May I ask you to take that outside and collect fresh, untouched snow for melting?”

“Ha.” Ramattra coughed a weak laugh. “It looked like everybody else was being more… festive than I am willing to play along with. I won’t be a Scrooge, however, games and fun are not quite my… taste.” This was where he would be most cooperative, especially now that he knew how he could assist Heismay. With a polite nod, the Omnic stepped outside, looking for a clear patch of snow that would be perfect for boiling. Most of the snow, of course, was on the ground, but was contaminated since it was on top of soil and frequently treaded, but many patches of medium-sized brushes of tree leaves held what Ramattra thought would be ideal snow. 

Setting the pot underneath the tree and giving it a light shake in Nemesis form filled it to the brim, though now, a large pile of snow had plopped down on the Omnic’s head, a blank-slated grumpy face metaphorically etched across his head. “Great.” Shaking the snow off his head, Ramattra returned to the kitchen with the cleanest snow he could think of finding. The boiling, at the very least, will remove any other contamination. “Here you are, friend.” Snow-filled container in hand, Ramattra set it down on the burner for Heismay to boil before turning towards another pair of footsteps approaching.

In the middle of the pair discussing their plan for dough, another cook-to-be entered the kitchen, one Professor Layton, wearing the outfit the Seekers prepared for him as well. He looked to see where he’d be of most use, though as soon as he spotted Ramattra over the heads of others he made his way towards them.

[color=b99e6b]”Pardon me, you two were accompanying Miss Sandalphon and Roxas before, were you not?”[/color] He asked, addressing them as best one could, swapping eye contact between a much shorter and a much taller person. [color=b99e6b]”I’m Hershel Layton. We collected the letters to Santa Claus together, so I was hoping to thank whoever of your group made these outfits.”[/color] He adjusted his festive tophat to make his point. [color=b99e6b]”It’s a pleasant surprise that I was included.”[/color]

Heismay turned from the bowl he was carefully pouring flour into, trying not to kick up wasteful clouds of white powder. “Twas certainly hospitable of them. I think you have Sectonia, Blazermate, and Ace Cadet to thank for that, if I remember them correctly.” His ruby-red eyes narrowed for a brief moment as he scrutinized the professor. “Perhaps as thanks you could assist us in meal preparation. All those fish we caught are certainly not going to cook themselves!” The eugief said it in a joking manner, but if Layton took him up on the offer, he certainly wouldn’t object.

Immediately, Ramattra eyed the newcomer from a distance, lucky that his sensors acted as a poker face for his bias. Layton certainly didn’t look like any human from the Omnic’s world, but was, without a doubt, of the same race. At least the man seemed composed and intelligent, something that Ramattra valued even in humans. “Ah. Hello there. I am the Omnic Ramattra, at your service.” He gave a polite bow, somewhat surprised that his horrific appearance did not deter Layton from introducing himself. Of course, Ramattra was capable of assisting Heismay with minor tasks, setting aside whatever sparse spices for the bread he could find in an isolated cabinet a little higher than the Eugief’s reach.

Layton reciprocated Ramattra’s bow with a tip of his hat. [color=b99e6b]”Very nice to meet you both.”[/color] He watched as they prepared to bake, not wanting to intrude in what they’d already begun. [color=b99e6b]”I [i]had[/i] come here to assist in dinner preparations, as it happens,”[/color] Layton said, [color=b99e6b]”so I’d be happy to help. I may not be adept at culinary arts, but I know a few things from when I was younger, helping my parents in our kitchen. And I’m willing to learn in places I lack.”[/color]

Ice melted quickly over fire, so in very little time Heismay had plenty of water. Animated by an excited energy, he combined yeast, flour, and water with salt fetched by Ramattra. Once he had the mixture suitably consistent, he plopped the dough out on an empty counter, gingerly laid a spare cloth atop it, then slipped off his heavy boots and climbed up. “Watch closely, as I demonstrate the proper technique. Take this! And that! Hah” So saying, he began to knead the dough by stamping upon it with his feet in an odd but very deliberate dance. After a moment he glanced quizzically at Layton and Ramattra, as if what he was doing was totally normal. “Why do you idle? Show me your conviction! Hah!”

Layton couldn’t help but chuckle at Heismay’s technique. No doubt effective, though not one he’s seen in all his travels. [color=b99e6b]”I’ll use my hands if that’s quite alright,”[/color] he said, stepping up to collect a pile of dough that was left un-stomped. He started kneading it much like how his mother would, a fairly simple push-and-spread motion. Watching Heismay continue to work, however, he decided to change tact, trying to match the eugief’s erratic stamping with the heels of his hands. It probably wouldn’t produce the same results - the difference in angle, shape, and power - but Layton was doing his best to learn.

Heismay nodded in approval. “There you have it! But do not just stamp randomly. We must stretch the dough just right. With proper technique, our bread will be as soft and luxurious as a goose-down pillow.” So saying, he continued to dance atop his dough, swinging his winged arms to maintain his balance. Despite appearances, there was indeed a method to his madness, a sequence of movements passed down through generations of eugief breadmakers. It was all to achieve perfect consistency.

Ramattra, however, was less of an instrument of precision and more well-tuned for calculated brutality. He tried his best to knead the bread with care, technique, and strength, pressing it firmly into the flour bed, coating the counter's surface. “You must have made quite a bakery’s worth in your days.” The Omnic teased the Eugief’s more artisanal side, his dough now malleable against his cold hands. It took him a minute to get used to the kneading motion with only one hand.

“Of course, since I don’t need substance to survive, I’ve never so much as had an interest in cooking or baking. My home, there used to be Omnic’s who dedicated their lives to culinary arts, despite never being able to taste.” It was ironic that now Ramattra found himself in their boots, over-analyzing every movement he made against the now softened dough he continued folding into itself.

A somewhat forlorn sigh escaped Heismay as his dance came to an end, the dough beneath his feet satisfactorily springy. “Tis woefully rare that I get the chance, in truth. Perhaps in another life I could have been a baker, but it was not to be.” After inspecting an empty oven to bring it up to the ideal heat, he began to tear off globs of kneaded dough to transfer them to a baking sheet. “Rather than a rolling pin, I took up the sword. Eventually won myself a position among the royal knights.” He chuckled ruefully. “Well…in the ‘shadowguard’, that is. An order not of decorated defenders, but discreet enforcers, relegated to ‘necessary evils’ in back alleys and moonless nights. No captain would be caught dead with a eugief in shining armor.” He shook his head. “And in exile, I had neither grain nor grindstone, no oven for baking nor kitchen to bake with. Tis a small miracle I remember the teachings of my childhood at all…”

The Professor, having matched Heismay’s movements to the best of his ability, prepared a sheet of his own, dividing the dough into equal portions. This, at least, was something he was more familiar with. [color=b99e6b]”You’ve lived a hard life, it seems,”[/color] he commented to Heismay. [color=b99e6b]”Whatever circumstances brought you to where you are today, I’m glad you managed to keep true to a part of yourself.”[/color] He gestured to the rolls of unbaked dough on the counter. [color=b99e6b]”The holiday this festival is in service to is partly a time of thankfulness, recognizing all that we’re grateful for in our lives. So I’d like to give you my thanks for allowing me to learn such a technique from you.”[/color] Layton finished with a small bow of his head and a tip of his hat. Hopefully not too forward for having just met.

Actually… that last point brought something to Layton’s mind.

“You’re welcome.” After putting the dough-laden sheet into the oven, Heismay let out a deep breath. “Though my sweat tells of a battle hard fought, the final trial yet awaits. With anything less than perfect timing, the bread will either fall flat or fail to rise at all. I must calm my mind and strike like an eagle in flight.”

Not wanting to interrupt Heismay’s focus, Layton moved to Ramattra, wiping his hands clean of dough and flour. [color=b99e6b]”If I may ask, what brings your group to this festival? Your companion, Sandalphon, seemed unfamiliar with Christmas and its traditions, as had a number of you as well - apologies for eavesdropping, I was simply reading the task board while you all were gathered there.”[/color]

Layton crossed his arms in thought. [color=b99e6b]”I assume your true destination lies beyond the blizzard, on the Midnight Walk?”[/color]

The Omnic froze for a moment, almost hesitating to answer the professor’s question. Ramattra looked to Heismay for his opinion, but after sizing Layton as mostly harmless to their mission, it seemed only fair to fill him in since he had gotten stuck here with his original caravan. “Our final destination is Moon Mountain. We’ve decided to… rest here until the blizzard passes.” Though it seemed partaking in Christmas magic was the only way to remove the obstacle, Ramattra was not going to admit something so unbelievable to a stranger. 

Ramattra grabbed a separate pan for his Omnic-handled dough. Though not perfect in the slightest, the Omnic felt a small amount of accomplishment in having prepared the dough. Much of the work and guidance would be credited to Heismay, whose odd technique had convinced Ramattra that the Eugief’s loaf would turn out the best.

[color=b99e6b]”Moon Mountain…”[/color] The Professor has heard tales of Moon Mountain before. From what he could gather it was a very fraught, desolate, dark place, with only folktales as to what may be at its peak. His professional curiosity was getting the better of him, but he decided not to ask further - not now, at least.

[color=b99e6b]”Then I hope the blizzard subsides sooner instead of later, for your sake.”[/color]

As the bread baked, the trio helped prepare other foods for the feast, including the haul from the fishing hole. With only so many ovens available, they cast a broad net by pan-frying, grilling, and even smoking the different fish. Whatever herbs they found in the pantry’s cupboards went toward spicing these different fish recipes up. Not every attempt was a success, but as the minutes turned to hours more and more sizzling fish dishes piled up, ready to be devoured that evening. At one point, Heismay reached into the icebox and removed not a fish, but a soccer ball-sized flea, shivering as it sneezed again and again, going more [i]achoo[/i] than [i]awoo[/i].

Heismay seated the poor flea by the fire to warm up, then returned his attention to the bread oven. Throughout his preparations he’d kept one eye on his main project at all times, very pleases as he watched the dough rise. Finally, the hour had come. “There!” He popped open the oven, paused just long enough to avoid a faceful of hot steam, and snatched the sheet tray from inside the furnace. When the steam cleared, the others could admire the fluffiest-looking bread they’d ever seen. “Behold, a taste of my homeland: Benevolent Bread,” Heismay declared.

Without the need for oven mitts, Ramattra reached into the oven after Heismay showcased his product, clutching onto the baking sheet that had been rising his loaf. Though the bread would surely taste similarly to Heismay, the fluffiness of the specially-cooked bread was unbeatable, as Ramattra’s bread was more crusty- with a mild burn on the exterior. “Ah. I suppose for my first time, that wasn’t the worst I could do.” He examined the loaf over, almost curious to sample its taste if it were possible.

While the others attended to their own tasks, Heismay took stock of the kitchen. He hadn’t really been paying attention to anyone outside of himself, Ramattra, and Layton, but the other cooks hard at work in the kitchen had made plenty of progress, too. A couple crock pots were in the process of slow-cooking roast meat, ensuring that when the time came it would be so tender that it’d practically fall off the bone. Casseroles were much in evidence, and the smell of baked potatoes delighted him almost as much as the bread. There was only one thing that perturbed him: the sight of a [url=https://i.imgur.com/ODEUGyV.png]rock floating in a bowl of broth[/url]. After rubbing his eyes, Heismay trotted over to get a better lock, and yep…it sure was rock soup. Baffled, he turned to the [url=https://i.imgur.com/AKCzJRt.png]tired-looking elf[/url] responsible for the concoction. “What, pray tell, is this?”

The elf shrugged his shoulders, a gesture that emphasized the fact that he had no arms connecting them to his free-floating hands. “I call it ‘Loud Soup’,” he answered in a lazy drawl. “A magical brew that, when imbibed, will allow you to project your voice across the whole area. It’s to help Miss Maeve make announcements, more than anything.” He stirred the soup, causing the rock to clack against the bowl. “If you’re curious, feel free to sample some, but be warned that [i]everyone[/i] will be able to hear you for thirty seconds at least. Don’t blame me if people get annoyed.”

Heismay blinked at him. “I think I’ll pass.”

Ramattra seemed almost offended at the offer. His eyes scanned the stew with some curiosity before the Omnic, surprisingly, walked closer. “I’d like to try some, but would it be alright if I stored some in a bottle for later, rather?” If this stew could amplify the speaker's voice, maybe it could serve some niche purpose later in their adventure. “A hearty serving, please. It does look quite… good?” The Omnic lied through his metaphorical mouth, hoping that the elf would fail to realize that a robot would have no use with such a liquid.

[color=b99e6b]”I would like to save some for later as well,”[/color] Layton added. The elf raised an eyebrow but decided against questioning a save-for-later sample, and spooned a portion of the remaining broth into two mason jars, adding the requisite stone to each before handing them off to the two. Layton didn’t have any grand ambitions for the soup, of course, he just wanted to give it a proper try when he wouldn’t be an inconvenience.

Having spent a good while here, and done their part toward preparing an excellent feast, the three then took the chance to move on and see what else the village had in store for them.