chef_chocobro | The Creepy Abandoned Mansion; Saturday Evening [09/23].

Well, Ignis had won a bet (entirely fairly, mind you; yes, it was on a particularly petty technicality, but technically correct was the best kind of correct, and he suspected a valuable lesson about word choice had been learned, as well), which meant that he was cooking dinner for Liliana that evening. A good portion of the day yesterday was spent brainstorm, his mind a flurry of ideas as he lay on the couch, flipping one of his new knives in his hand with deceptive idleness. A whole catalogue of recipes flipped through his mind, each one being summarily dismissed for some minor unworthy offense, until a few seemed to fall into place perfectly, and he caught the night with one hand, snapped his fingers with the other and let out a resounding "That's it!" and started getting to work then because the sooner he was able to whip up the marinade for the steaks, the better.

So he arrived at Liliana's doorstep without too much trouble, with all his ingredients and prep work in hand, a few things he knew he couldn't chance Liliana not having on hand. There was a small bit of uncertainty with working in an unfamiliar kitchen, but he'd made do with pretty scant conditions before. Just so long as there was a place to chill the sauternes he'd brought to accompany the fluffy chiffon cake for dessert.

But first? Getting set up for cooking his pomegranate balsamic flank steak, and preparing the salad and the potatoes, with a good malbec waiting to bring it all together in the end.

That was certainly the plan, anyway, but its effectiveness relied solely on how distracting the hostess decided to be. But it would certainly seem that he'd chosen dishes that did not require a lot of maintenance and fuss for a reason, too.

[[ for she whose kithen is being invaded, of course~

*belatedly tacks on a *nsfw* cw, doo doo doo ]]

Threaded | Flat

With the number of times Liliana Vess had smugly replied, even in her own mind, that 'technically correct was the best kind of correct' made any complaints she could have about his win pure hypocrisy. That being said, being a hypocrite had never stopped Liliana before and it certainly wasn't about to start now.

Which simply meant that while he had been struggling over recipes the day before, she had been laying plans of her own. Just to make sure he didn't get too complacent with the idea of winning. She had been neck deep in hot water during her own Eureka moment; hair piled on her head as she relaxed in her tub, glass of wine in her hand. Not that she'd given any of her thoughts away when he'd arrived, answering her own door with a smile and a purred greeting, a kiss that was full of teasing but stopped short of temptation (or, at least, didn't stray there long), and then led him down the large expanse of house to the kitchen. And was also led by her steward, since it wasn't like she knew where the kitchen was except in the most vague generalities.

It was an absolute sin that Ignis couldn't see the kitchen he was working with. She found a bit of counter to perch on, not unlike a gargoyle clad in royal purple charmeuse that didn't rustle with each step but whispered.. Her steward stood quietly by to see if Ignis wanted to be shown where things were in the kitchen and if his services were needed further and slipped out when his services were no longer needed.

"Is there anything else you need?" Liliana asked, voice sweet as fruit tarts. Nothing about her could be as innocent as that voice was pretending to be, wrapping it right back around to filthy.

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