Private slowbake

[Vyn]

The long road north found the time for Vyn and Frank to grow somewhat chummy. He was still rude to most other people, but they were getting there. At least he'd stopped calling the little ones bakerless.

He lived on the windowsill of Vyn's Wagon now. Caught the sun for most of the day. Called it the slowbake of penance. Guess that made them neighbors.

„So you're saying it isn't GRUUUGH?“
„No no – you don't want to say that. That speaks ill of their sister. You don't wanna call anyone's family a tart.“
„I thought boiled was an issue.“
„Don't get me started on boiled.“
„Wait... I think we used tart too.“
„Yeah – leggies are famous for cultural appropriation and their unbaked ways. You don't even make the distinction for lemon tarts. Frankly, BLEURGH.“
„Sad?“
„No no – disappointing, but you're getting better.“

Vyn smiled at the praise and took to a new attempt.

„What about GRUUblgh GrrGH?“ Voice struggled on the ups and downs. Couldn't burp through it all, but the attempt was there.
„No no – that's calling their aunt undercooked. And reign in the flourless dialect – that's for peasants.“
„I'm not joining Crumb Court, you know. Maybe this is good enough.“
„Over my unwashed baking sheet!“ Dough popped and hissed with indignity. Looked scary, but smelled of cinnamon. „It will never be said that I, Frank N. Dough, have cooked so poorly.“ Sniff of pride. „My parents would scone in their graves. Unacceptable!“

And that's how the knock would find them.

 

[Roki]

Heard it before he saw it. Smelled it soon after. And felt it, all warm and yeasty as it was, there some steps later.

Knock rapped on the door of the wagon he had blown a hole through the roof of not too long ago.

"BURRRRP!" he anounced. Eyes near popped out of his head he had belched it out so hard. Pounded flat of his fist against the bones of his chest. Laughed a little. "I think I said hello?" Roki smiled all tusky and squint eyed. Waved a big hand, about as big as his big head.

"Been a while!" he called out to the pair of crustless yeastspeakers.

 

[Dove]

It was around this point that Dove had also made it a point to find Vyn. Because she too- had heard the recent experiments regarding Dr. Dough. And given Dove already had a relationship with a ghostly companion herself (though hers was small, leathery, and acted a bit like a dog to be honest), it just felt like a good way to practice playing friends with ghosts.

Besides, Dove did love making candies and treats, and it was amusing watching the bread respond to her various experiments and endeavors in cooking. Sometimes, the bread enjoyed her little tributes. Sometimes, the bread hated it. What the bread didn't take went to the kids.

She stood, holding a small pan of something that smelled faint but fruity, the telltale of local fruit, perhaps mixed with a honey? Maybe a jam?

But what caught her eyes was the lovely shade of plum that she stood behind. Where.. did she see this before? Well.. either way- she needed to move past them to Vyn, and her wings were a little more 'free' now, so she tapped Roki's shoulder, and mumbled, "Excuse me!" before sliding past him to Vyn, and her spicy companion.

 

[Vyn]

„Hello...“ Voice quick to sour.
„Frank!“
„...Oventaker.“ Surprisingly tame, all things considered.

Vyn just smiled, Roki had surely heard worse.

„GHHHUR“ Because it had been a while. Didn't need to look down at Frank to know she'd fucked it up. Dough was already getting all floured up.

They smelled Dove before they saw her. And Vyn was glad for it. The woman was a grounding pressence in all the madness that often found the...her.

„Ah, Royal Chef!“ Sweetest most uncorruptible voice of someone who most definitely wasn't getting bribed by food. Not at all. „What tribute are you presenting today?“

Vyn laughed at that. Hoped Frank wouldn't like it. Meant more for the kids....or the unrisen, as he called them now. Wasn't sure that was an improvement over bakerless. But baby steps.

 

[Roki]

"More like dough maker," Roki shot back with a grin, a flick of two pointer fingers, all cocked wands, and a satisfied wink.

"GHHHUR"

Roki chuckled all sharp with amused mischief. Clapped his hands once. "How's it rising, right?" he pulled from the fog shrouded stacks that were his memories.

"How is it proofing!" Frank corrected with a with a powdery shake. "You yeastless knots."

Roki still wasn't sure how the weird lump of flour, sugar, and milk had turned so... sour. He was supposed to be a sweet bread! But, he found it all breathlessly- "Oh," his nose hitched up, nostrils flared as they sniff sniffed. Something smelled good.

A tap on the shoulder. "Excuse me!" turn on the heels, and his eyes widened. Mouth all o shaped as he moved out of the way and watched her squeeze by.

"Dove!" he smiled bright after she had passed and the talon clicks against the floorboards snatched the thought out from his head.

Watched as frank went all honey and cinnamon. He snickered at that. Looked to Vyn.

Look all fondness and warm feeling. He couldn't help but laugh, rest his elbow on a shelf, and watched a moment. "Wagons full of surprises," he eased with an easy look about him.

Funny little bunch of weirdos, the lot of them. Kinda like a home away from home.