[Session 10] "November seems odd/You're my firing squad"

[subject_013]

Who: Albert Wesker (aka. Dr. Adrian Winters) and... You!
What: October and November Catch-all
When: Between mid-October and the end of November
Where: All over Trench, likely into the realm of the Zealots.

Content Warnings: None for the moment, will update accordingly

Comments

Domestic Al - ((Closed to Sharon Da Silva))

[subject_013]

Due to his connection to Rose Da Silva, Wesker has had a sense of obligation toward her daughter Sharon, going so far as to open the door to his living space in Arklay House to her when she needs a place to crash. He'd given her use of a room across the hallway from his, a room he'd initially intended for Alex in the event of her arrival, allowing her free rein to decorate and furnish it according to her liking.

Perhaps one evening, she receives a text: Found some exquisite mushrooms. Trying a recipe or two. A.".

Once she lets herself in, she'll hear someone clattering about in the kitchen, classical music playing. As she steps in, she'll find him at the old-school gas stove, in the Victorian-inspired shirt sleeves he favors these days, carefully slicing butter into a small saucepan. A basket of fresh mushrooms sits on the kitchen table, among some scattered utensils and clean dishes.

He glances over his shoulder to her. "Ahh, you're just in time."

((Inspired by last November's Mushabooming.))

[fogsong]

The text comes as a sudden, pleasant surprise and Sharon is quick to put the finishing touches on her current painting before she wanders into the kitchen, smelling faintly of paint. There are dark colors drying on her hands, blacks and blues and deep reds, and smears of them on her clothes as if she'd absentmindedly tried to wipe her hands clean more than a few times. She's a bit of a messy artist and has a tendency to lose herself in her work.

She whistles low as she enters the kitchen.

"Is there anything you can't do?" There's a distinct edge of admiration in her tone, coupled with a gentle, if childish, teasing. She grins as she looks over the mushrooms before she heads over to the sink, washing the acrylic from her hands.

"So, what are we making? And how can I help?" She asks as she dries her hands off, looking over his shoulders. She's not about to let him do all the work.

[subject_013]

"Cookery isn't much different from chemistry: recipes are oddly similar to formulas. Also, I had an older sister who made sure I did not grow into one of those useless males who treat the kitchen like a cinema vampire would a dawn-lit window," he says, setting aside the butter and lifting the saucepan by the handle, tilting it to let the butter swirl slowly across the surface.

"Scrambled eggs with sliced truffles. Rich as you can get, but a treat at this cold time of the year. I'll slice the truffles, if you'd care to scramble the eggs?"