Vanilla Lessons (Tobias / Invite)

[Deleted]

Adrian wanted to do something himself for once in a long time, truth be told, he wasn't that good of a cook, though he was French. He mostly ate what he was given or just ate things uncooked, which made for a lot of salads, fruits and nuts. So, what do you do when you're given free reign of a Kitchen somewhere and provided with most of the ingredients one would need to learn valuable skills. That was what Adrian wished to do, learn a skill or two with some kitchen implements, his goal was to accomplish edible results within a day or two. Easier said than done, but he had a cookbook he had taken from the library open on a counter in front of him. On the pages was something easy enough, or so he thought, French Toast, humming to himself ever so lightly, he began gathering supplies from the fridge and drawers.

Much like the shows on the internet and on TV, he made sure to have a clean workspace, as well as separate his ingredients. Eggs in a bowl, unbroken. Flour and a mixing bowl, a unopened pack of sliced bread, cinnamon and nutmeg, as well as sugar.Yet he had trouble finding some items in the kitchen, pouting to himself, here alone in the Kitchen, he half crawled into a lower cabinet in search of a weighing scale of some form. His hair scattering with the movement, his eyes engulfed with the darkness, though his humming only stopped momentarily. The scent of vanilla naturally left his being, as did it from the bottle he had found of vanilla pods upon the counter. The doors to the Kitchen were closed, but not locked and nothing dangerous had been turned on yet. When the door opened however, there would be a cry from Adrian as he suddenly rose in surprise and bang his head on the ceiling of the cabinet. Tears eking out of his eyes as he clutches his head, letting out a pained sound as he tried to not cry.

[Tobias Fordson]

        The hallways began to fill with the murmurs of students and the gentle clop of shoes on the ground as the day went on here at Ashford. It was a somewhat calm day, seeing as the Prefects weren't rushing around trying to catch some troublemaker running about. Among the students, the figure of Tobias could be seen making his way through the crowds, hugging his notebook tightly as he walked along. The past few days had been interesting ones for him, but he was settling into his normal routine for the most part. This meant making his customary afternoon lunch at the kitchen.

        While he did remember just exactly what he had planned, his notebook still held the recipes he planned on cooking for today. He still had a craving for breakfast-style foods, so he planned on making a decent platter of such things. He didn't dare eat any more of the staff-cooked foods. As far as he was concerned, the school cooking staff was plotting to kill everyone with below sub-par meals. It was an atrocity that no person should endure. Besides, he always trusted his own cooking to someone else's cooking.

        As he pulled to the doorway to the kitchen, he mulled over some of the things he planned on cooking, trying to decide which one to cook first. Eggs, pancakes, sausage, grits, oats, even some from-scratch cereal was on the agenda. So distracted was Tobias by this that he pushed into the kitchen with a little more effort than normal. As it just so happened, this caused the young man already in the kitchen to cause a loud thud to boom from under one of the cabinets. Startled by the sound, Tobias dropped his notebook to the floor after a quick hop backwards, a couple of the notes tucked in side scattering nearby.

        Tobias stood still for a moment to take in the scene before him. Already were plenty of cooking ingredients set out, as well as most of the utensils and tools necessary for cooking, but a couple notable pieces were missing, he then looked down to see the assembler of the materials. It was clear that the tall, lithe individual was clearly looking for something when Tobias' entrance startled him. This caused a pang of regret to stain Tobias' face. He gave an audible gulp before taking a step closer to the person, offering a hand to him before speaking.

        "I-I'm sorry about this... If I had k-known anyone was in h-here, I would have been m-more quiet. I-is there s-something I could d-do to r-repay you?"

[Adrian Theroux]

Adrian took deep and slow breaths, feeling the muscles of his body tense as he heard a voice, the skin upon his head perhaps bruised under that violet hair of his. Heart hammering away, he could hear nothing else except the rushing sound of blood through his ears. One distinct feature that may be noticed was his lack of footwear, his bare toes clinging to the ground as he chose one of two options. Either climb into the cabinet and forget anyone had called out to him at all, albeit odd, it would mean he would be safe. Or come out and greet the person like a normal human being. The hourglass within his mind let the sand pour away for what felt like hours, but was barely five seconds as he pulled out of the Cabinet.

Usually he wasn't the type to confront someone else, not overly shy, just cautious. As soon as his head cleared the cabinet, he moved away from the owner of the voice. The other young man seemed as taken back by his presence as he was to the mans, however, Adrian had trails upon his cheeks where tears had stained them. Cooking mostly forgotten as he pulled his hands inward and away from what was outstretched to him. Slowly he wiped away the tears of pain that had subsided, how emotional and silly he must have looked. Then again, with how his hair was flowing from his head and the thin almost gaunt body of his, it would not be the first time he would be mistaken as a girl.

"I... uh.. hi, sorry... for getting in your way"

His enchanting voice wavering, lilting as if he were almost singing, the tone and quality like that of a songbird. His french accent leaking into his words as he seemed apprehensive, almost too defensive like someone whom was afraid for too long. Adrians crystalline eyes staring up at the other guy, wondering what they wanted or at the very least, why the other person believed they should repay him. Flashes of his past haunting those blue orbs of his so readily due to those solitary letters.

[Tobias Fordson]

        Tobias was in a minor fit of worry over what happened. Everything was rather orderly in his life, and he was able to limit his socialization time to those moments he felt more comfortable speaking with others. Yet, all of a sudden, he found himself in contact with this striking individual who, just as Tobias felt, seemed hesitant to talk or associate at all. Sure, Tobias had extended a hand to help out the boy, but it was more out of guilt than general kindness to strangers. Even so, the boy seemed to refuse the hand offered, to which Tobias slowly pulled said hand away.

        Even still, he didn't know what to do with the enigmatic person. He didn't label a gender to the individual as, given their build and timid voice, he could hardly distinguish to which one they belonged. Seeing as it would be more than beyond rude for someone to ask and not wanting to determine physically said person's orientation, both cases being things that he would scarce do sans his own shyness, he staggered back a step from the person, glancing downward to their feet. Two things caught his eyes, the first being the disarrayed display of his notebook and notes, but the more pressing matter being the person's lack of footwear. Didn't they know it was dangerous for even a trained individual to handle things barefoot, let alone someone who, from first impressions, had a lack of formal cooking instruction?

        Maybe this was something he could do to repay the person for startling them. It was a guilt that might have seemed silly to others, but was highly important to Tobias, knowing full well some people's powers can react negatively from undue stress. That was not to say that he was not himself a bundle of nerves, but he was working hard to try to not let that control his actions; a matter that always became increasingly hard as the day wore on. Still, he thought it best to try and cope with said issue, bedding down his worry for the moment to lean down and gather his paper, lightly shaking his head to dismiss the other individual's concerns, though his own hands trembled slightly as the papers gathered into a pile. Even through his attempt to talk, his now rosy red cheeks displayed his discomfort and nervousness.

        "O-oh n-no no... I-I-It's my fau-ult... T-t-t-this kitch-chen is op-pen to all, a-aft-ter all. S-s-say... I-if you d-don't mind my imp-posi-ition... w-would you l-l-like some... as-s-s-sist-tance cook-k-king? I-i-i-i-if th-that's ok-k-k-k...."