chef_chocobro | Entries tagged with who: liliana

As he found himself groaning reluctantly into some sense of consciousness, Ignis did find that one thing had improved substantially from the last time he'd awoken in a state of being this hungover: at least he didn't have to worry about the light bothering him. But something about the darkness almost made the pounding in his head more intimate, more contained, few things to distract his mind from its throbbing. So he tried to focus on what else he could: the feeling a cold compress on his face, his hand moving up to confirm exactly what that admittedly relieving sensation was, the odd taste in his mouth that was both far too dry but also heavy with a variety of different herbs and lingering sourness from too much alcohol, and he just tried to think back and remember what had happened, all of it currently just a fog, including not entirely knowing where it was that he'd woken up.

Not the hotel room in New Zealand, that he was sure of, but somewhere more familiar. A deep breath brought in a familiar scent, as well, strong on cedar and mulberries, once he was able to pick it out from his own sweat. All of it mixed together made his stomach churn in protest, and, as he realized where he was, he was now also remembering why he was there and how he got there.

With another groan, shifting the compress for a moment to rub his aching temples and then placing it back gratefully, Ignis started to just map out the distance to the nearest window so perhaps he might just throw himself out of it. But that would require moving, and it was very clear to Ignis that that was something he did not care to pursue right now, or quite possibly ever again.

But at least he was alone, at the moment, affording him at least some time to just wallow in his misery.

[[ for she who lives there, if she waaants to, omg ]]

Even though it seemed like this week had provided copious examples of attempts to the contrary, it turned out that Ignis actually couldn't spend all his spare time with Liliana and would, in fact, spend time with other people, too. Well, with the other person he spent all of his spare time with. He certainly wouldn't want to overstay his welcome, and they were both clearly the sort of people who had lives beyond the blissful bubble of each other's company that they'd come to discover and had other things to do that day...

...Well, it seemed Liliana did, anyway. Ignis...had a make-up training session to attend to to appease his roommate, after which there was to be take-out because he was quite frankly a little exhausted and wanted to unwind a little with food made by someone else for a change and a glass of wine. And to at least make a marginal attempt to distract himself from wanting to be somewhere else and in different company again already.

No offense, of course, to Gladio.

"So," said Gladio from the couch, no doubt already leaving dusting of rice from his take-out container around where he sat, "what should I put on? Cooking shows to make you mad, or sports shows to make me mad?"

Okay, he took that back. Some offense to Gladio, after all.

[[ for those who know who they are and with some helpful little morsels of OCD like the rice Iggy'll find in the couch cushions later; CW for someone almost fucking dying ]]

While Ignis knew he could just send Liliana's steward out for what he needed for dinner that evening, he much preferred to fetch them himself. He liked to have that personal hand in making sure everything he'd selected met his standards, and to be able to sway the course if, for whatever reason, they failed to do so. Besides, in defiance of the part of him that would be quite content existing further in her thrall, he felt it would be good for him to go out and get some...fresh air. Clear his head a little, after last night and some breakfast (well, brunch, really), and focus on what had been the entire purpose of his phone call last night.

(Well, not the entire purpose. At its core, he'd mostly just wanted to hear her voice again, and everything else that came with it had just been...ancillary.)

But with ingredients and supplies now in hand, he returned to the mansion and the kitchen that would now eke a smile out of him just by him existing in it, and got to work, laying out what he'd need to prepare a squid ink pasta, with some fresh bread and a request for a nice pinot gris from Liliana's own cellars.

[[ for the necronerd whose progressively less abandoned but still creepy mansion has been so shamelessly modded, por favor ]]

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 ]]

Ignis was incredibly glad that the weather held up for the day, because it would have rather put an uncomfortable damper on his dinner plans if it had not been so cooperative, and for this meal, for this purpose, he felt the setting was as integral as the ingredients themselves. But it had been, so he had nothing to worry about. He supposed he could be worried about how things might go tonight, but there were no concerns there. He'd arrived well before the agree-upon time, to get himself set up: a proper table, with two chairs, and place-settings and everything, as well as his camp cooking set-up, with his prep table and portable grill, Coleman^TM cooler with all his ingredients as he worked on the prep, so that it could be timed that all his mis en place was finished by the time Liliana was expected to arrive and the cooking itself could be done during a bit of preamble so before the perfect moment whent to serve it.

So he was well in the process of recreating his fisherman's favorite paella, with a nice bottle of viognier to compliment it.

Already prepared was the seasonal fruit salad, drizzled with the honey he'd obtained from Nell the previous evening.

And now all he would need was someone to share it with.

[[ are you a) a scary necromancer lady and b) expecting to have a blind man cook for you on a beach? Then come on down, this post is for you! ]]