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JAYNEY: Easy as pie!
That’s what she said.
So, obviously, you spent about five hours last day—since you couldn’t sleep—searching for anything on ‘how to bake’ since Jayney had finally gotten you to agree to make something with her. Jayekh did it, Roxxie did it, and you’re the last in all of her quadrants to give it a try.
Everything you read on the internet said the opposite of Jayney’s words: that baking is a fine science. Some things you found while scouring the net likened it to chemistry.
And chemistry isn’t really something to just blindly fuck around with, or especially easy.
You’re lucky you thought to look ahead, though. You notice that all she has on is her normal clothes and an apron with her teal sign embroidered on the front when she answers the door for you.
JAYNEY: You…
JAYNEY: Distri, you don’t need all of that.
You stand on the doorstep holding a pair of ganderbulb protection—your own already on your face—a tool you custom made before you’d hopped on the communal scuttlebuggy to make the trip here, and a welding apron draped over your front.
DISTRI: What are you talking about?
JAYNEY: You look ready to blow something up instead of just making frygellated doughtangles with pulverized sugar!
She shuts the door after you stroll into the hive through the gap she left between herself and the frame, and you realize how right she is as you first pocket the goggles in your prong, and then pull the tinted goggles on your face upwards to rest against your horns. You also immediately release your usual shades from the neck of your apron, and put them in your goggles’ previous place.
Jayney snorts behind her prong.
DISTRI: Maybe you have a point.
DISTRI: But, I promise this doesn’t blow anything up.
You raise the tool in your right prong, showing off its nifty handle and large disc-shaped head.
DISTRI: I familiarized myself with the recipe.
DISTRI: Frygellation involves frygellation fluid, and putting this over the pot or pan should keep it from popping back at us.
JAYNEY: How smart!
She takes it from you and turns it over and around to test the weight. It’s only now, after the half-hour trip here, that you realize you might have made the disc part a little too heavy.
DISTRI: It’s also a gift for you to keep.
Jayney turns her attention from your tool to you, and you watch her ganderbulbs light up behind her red-framed glasses.
JAYNEY: How kind!
She reiterates, and leads the way into the meal block. Your fluid shield… spray barrier—the thing you still need to name—ends up on the counter. She then turns to you, looks up and down, and shakes her nugbone. You don’t let yourself frown.
DISTRI: What?
JAYNEY: Just a second.
Jayney takes her allotted second to pull out her palm husk from one of her back pockets. She taps the screen just six times before handing it to you.
JAYNEY: Set that against the stationary whirlunit for now, please.
You look at what she’s trying to display, and notice it’s the frygellated doughtangles with pulverized sugar recipe.
Once you’ve made sure the device won’t wobble when upright, you look back to your moirail. Jayney turns to you with an apron made of a much thinner material than the one you brought.
JAYNEY: Put this on, Distri.
When it’s pushed into your hands, you get a better look at how the front is decorated with hearts, spades, and text that says "If you have an issue with the meal, you can KI** the cook."
DISTRI: K-I asterisk asterisk?
JAYNEY: It’s supposed to be Kiss or Kill! It’s just up to the reader which one they mean.
The right corner of your lip curls up in a small smile.
DISTRI: And you’re making me wear it?
JAYNEY: It’s the only other one I have, and yours is too bulky, Mr. Strydr!
She grips at the bottom edge of the apron you're wearing and tugs, displaying how the fabric is a little stiff compared to the softer material in your hands.
JAYNEY: Unless you really wanted to deal with that thing, but it looks like it weighs ten standard weight units…
DISTRI: It’s only about five, and it’s to keep it weighted so in the windy area I live in it won’t flip up while I’m working.
DISTRI: But, I’ll change.
She smiles as you throw your old apron over the back of her lounge plank, and pull the funny one over your head. Your moirail ties the back strings together for you, and then analyzes your new look.
JAYNEY: You look pitiable like that.
You blush, and look down at the design that’s clearly dotted with spades and hearts.
JAYNEY: You look cute! I mean it!
JAYNEY: I tied the strings into a big bow!
Jayney presses a soft kiss to your cheek and you stand there like unmoving tubeflora. She then lays out all the ingredients you’ll both need, and your eyes scan over confracturer’s sugar(?), regular sugar, the frygellation fluid, fungal organism dust, and some churned dairy product.
DISTRI: Confracturer’s sugar?
You pick up the bag and turn it between your prongs as you question the name.
JAYNEY: Otherwise known as pulverized sugar.
DISTRI: Oh.
The bag is set back down as your slight confusion clears up.
DISTRI: This isn’t my speciality.
JAYNEY: I know!
JAYNEY: Shoosh, you don’t have to worry, since it’s mine.
You don’t tell her you’re already worrying (since she clearly knows) as she grabs a mixing bowl from one of her cabinets, and hands it to you. You just stand there as she measures out the water, sugar, and fungal organism dust.
JAYNEY: Now whisk!
It takes a second for her to also hand you the tool with which to do so.
DISTRI: Yes Ma’am.
You put your entire shoulder into it—after making sure the bowl is planted firmly on the counter.
JAYNEY: Perfect! You’re a natural.
She moves her palmhusk aside to rest it against the fungal organism dust bag in order to pull the stationary whirlunit closer.
JAYNEY: Now, while you’re whisking all that together, I’m going to mix the other half of our dough.
Jayney plucks some cluckbeast eggs from a carton, and you can’t really keep up as almost everything gets thrown into her appliance. You manage to catch her dumping in evaporized moobeast milk and quite a few standard hold units of milled grain powder.
The machine whirls to life with the press of a button when she’s satisfied with the contents.
JAYNEY: Think you’re well mixed over there!?
She shouts over the loud noise of the whirlunit. You look down into your bowl, having watched her the whole time, and start to wonder if you might’ve over whisked. You pick it up off the counter and abandon the whisking rod on a nearby rag.
DISTRI: I think?
DISTRI: Here-
JAYNEY: No, Sir!
You don’t startle when she shouts.
JAYNEY: You keep that!
JAYNEY: You’ll be pouring it in here in just a minute!
You nod, and she uses the counter for leverage to peer into the stationary whirlunit’s bowl. After a few seconds of standing there with the loud whirring threatening to make your auricular sponge clots ring, Jayney hums and slows the pace at which it’s beating all the ingredients into submission.
JAYNEY: Now, pour it in-
You move towards the machine as she speaks, and the second you start pouring, it splashes up at your face and coats your shades.
JAYNEY: -slowly… because it has a chance to splash if you’re too fast.
DISTRI: I get that now.
You huff with the smallest amount of irritation, and Jayney’s frond plants a quick pap on your cheek.
DISTRI: Slowly it is.
After creating the dough (and cleaning your shades off), it needed to settle for a few hours. You sat with your moirail on her lounge plank while waiting, and she started you on one of her favorite serialized productions: Troll Elementary.
She made sure to preface your watching by proclaiming she prefers the Troll Sherlock serialized production for a live action retelling of the Troll Sherlock story. Her cholerbear lusus even wanders down from the upper floor of the hive to come watch with you both.
It only takes about seven episodes for the timer Jayney set to go off, and you brush off your apron when you stand. Your fronds feel gelatinous from sitting for so long.
JAYNEY: I hope you’re ready for the hard part!
She sings, and offers you a prong. You take it to let her drag you back into the meal block. Jayney only drops you so that she can get the dough out of the thermal hull. After, she pulls the recipe back up.
JAYNEY: We have to frygellate them just enough to cook all the way through and crisp, but not get crunchy.
JAYNEY: They’re supposed to be light and soft!
DISTRI: Got it.
DISTRI: Light and soft.
JAYNEY: But first, we cut the dough into doughtangles.
In a flash, she sprinkles and spreads some milled grain powder onto the counter. The slab of dough falls out of its bowl with a thick noise.
JAYNEY: Maybe while I cut it up, you can start heating the frygellation fluid?
JAYNEY: I left a pot on the gas fuelled heat induction slab.
You glance around to find her consumable gas fuelled heat induction slab and enclosure combination unit, and zero in on the aforementioned pot. Grabbing the frygellation fluid, you take a quick glance at Jayney’s palmhusk to see if it says how much you’ll need, and then make the rational decision to ganderbulb it when realizing it doesn’t specify. It’s just the fluid they’ll be frygellated in—which is not a real ingredient and more like a tool to get the doughtangles from soft to crisp—so you don’t let yourself get anxious over having to guess for this part of the baking process.
You wonder if this counts as baking, seeing as everything you read tended to involve the consumable gas fuelled heat induction enclosure, and not a pot of frygellation fluid.
You shake your head, break your thoughts, and look down at how you’ve filled a little over half of the pot.
DISTRI: Jayney, do you think this is enough?
You point a point stump at the consumable gas fuelled heat induction slab.
JAYNEY: Yep!
JAYNEY: Maybe a little too much, but there’s nothing wrong with that.
You can tell she knows her response has made you more anxious.
JAYNEY: Don’t worry about pouring any back out, Distri, it’ll be just fine.
JAYNEY: Now keep an eye on that frygellation fluid with the confracturer’s temperature measurer.
Thankfully, it isn’t too far away.
JAYNEY: When that reaches -436° Ander on the indicator, it’ll be time for these babies!
You turn to look at how she’s already cut all of the dough into ready-to-frygellate pieces. She’s lined them all up on a tray to be thrown into the pot, and then put right back into their spots for the final step.
Which comes after the current step.
JAYNEY: …
JAYNEY: It does take a minute, like I said.
DISTRI: I was worried I was doing something wrong.
JAYNEY: Distri.
You glance to Jayney, who now stands next to you, whilst waiting for the fluid to heat.
JAYNEY: Talk to me.
JAYNEY: I can tell somethings been on your mind since before Troll Sherlock, and we have a minute.
DISTRI: We have a minute.
JAYNEY: Distri.
You frown.
DISTRI: I was just really worried that this could end in disaster.
DISTRI: Like a mealblock fire.
DISTRI: And that I would ruin the baking date by being incompetent.
Jayney points to the pot, and the temperature indicator.
JAYNEY: Well, we’re on the second to last step and it’s not ended in failure yet?
JAYNEY: The only mishap was some splatter that got on your glasses!
JAYNEY: Take that as some hard evidence that you’re "competent," as you say.
The indicator is crawling towards -436°A.
DISTRI:
JAYNEY: What?
DISTRI: This is one of your favorite hobbies.
JAYNEY: And?
DISTRI: I… wanted to not be a failure at it?
JAYNEY: Are you asking me?
Your shoulders slacken and you tilt the confracturer’s temperature measurer so that it rests against the side of the pot and you don’t have to hold it.
DISTRI: I wanted to not be a failure at it.
Jayney slowly nods, and makes a small ‘come here’ gesture towards your face. You lean down slightly so that she can loop her arms around your neck and pap your cheeks.
JAYNEY: Why?
DISTRI: Because it’s something you like.
DISTRI: And if I’m useless then what benefit do you have from baking with me?
The silence that follows your words speaks volumes, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to fully turn and face the girl draped over you.
JAYNEY: A good paledate spent with my diamond.
Your head finally finishes its rotation, and you can only see the slight curl of her dark hair.
JAYNEY: I receive a good day spent with my moirail, Distri.
JAYNEY: And that makes me happy.
DISTRI: Really?
JAYNEY: Yes!
She lifts her face, chin now resting on your shoulder.
JAYNEY: And like I said before.
She taps the temperature gauge, and you glance to check. It’s at -436°A.
JAYNEY: We’re nearly finished, and you’ve done just fine.
JAYNEY: Actually, you’re a better baking assistant than Jayekh.
She slowly pulls away to grab the beignets, and a grated basket coop to gently place them in the frygellation fluid.
You immediately grab for the gift you made Jayney, and just as you slap it down, you hear some fluid pop against the metal.
DISTRI: I’m a better baking assistant than Jayekh?
JAYNEY: Mhm, and Roxxie!
JAYNEY: First time with Jayekh, and he almost dropped my stationary whilrunit.
You glance at the poor device and imagine it in pieces.
DISTRI: No.
JAYNEY: Yes!
DISTRI: And Roxxie?
JAYNEY: Brought her meowbeast lusus without telling me! Got fur in the bacterialized dairy product cake!
You smile, thinking about the mess on Jayney’s nice countertops.
DISTRI: So my small splatter was nothing?
JAYNEY: Were you embarrassed about that?
She pulls the first batch out of the frygellating fluid, and sets the tray closest to you.
DISTRI: A little bit.
JAYNEY: Really?
She holds the next raw doughtangle above the fluid instead of setting it in.
DISTRI: Quite a lot of bit, actually.
JAYNEY: Thought so.
JAYNEY: So lend me your ear.
You physically lean down again, and she laughs.
JAYNEY: Get the sifting device from the bottom drawer to your left, load it with confracturer’s sugar, and start dusting those frygellated doughtangles!
DISTRI: Yes ma’am.
The two of you eat your frygellated doughtangles with pulverized sugar while watching the rest of Troll Sherlock Season One.
JAYNEY: What did I say?
JAYNEY: Easy as pie.
DISTRI: You did say that.
Dadcholer joins you yet again, and steals one right off of Jayney’s plate.
