Solo Flour Power Pt. II

A baking continuation where Yeva attempts to make bread... drunk.

Once an isolated and dying township, an influx of academics, adventurers and thrill seekers have made Scalvoris Town their home. From scholars' tea shops to a new satellite campus for Viden Academy, this is an exciting place to visit or make your home!

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Posts: 195
Joined: Thu May 16, 2019 1:23 am
Race: Human
Profession: Medic | Cryptographer
Renown: +100
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Flour Power Pt. II

Thu Mar 26, 2020 3:47 pm

3 Ashan 720

The second glass of was not as forgiving as the first. Yeva had to take a bit more time to compose herself, and Azrael, sensing this, rubbed her back, "Wine's supposed to be sipped, not thrown back like a liquor."

"I know," she grumbled, breathing out the vapors of fire and regret, "You were being a brat."

"As opposed delightful personality any other time?"

She groaned in annoyance.

He seemed to take the hint and swirled his glass, "Have you eaten today?"



"I don't remember... Around the time we had the cheese plate. So, lunch?"

It was nearly dinner time.

"That was awhile ago."

"I'm fine, Azrael."


Yeva went back to her book, "I think this dough is ready, which means I need to shape it, and then give it time to rise." She patted it into a nice round oval.

"How long does that take?"

"I'm not sure. A break or so? Maybe a little less... Let me check the recipe."

Always refer to the recipe. While she was learning, it would be imperative they followed their instructions as closely as possible. Yeva walked across the room to rinse her hands and then wrapped around the counter to flip a few pages, "Knead for ten minutes by hand...Done... Transfer the dough to an oiled bowl...coat... Aha! Cover the bowl loosely with a damp rag and let rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, thirty to forty-five bits. Easy. Now, where's the oil?" she glanced at the kitchen and then the bag of groceries they had brought with them. After a bit of rummaging, she found the bottle, along with a large bowl, "According to everything I've read, after the first rise, we'll have the second rise-"

"Second rise?" Azrael was growing restless, his head falling back dramatically, "You keep adding steps."

"After the first rise, the second rise should take a break or two, it really just depends. The book says it should be ready when it's doubled in size. Then we score the surface with a knife and let it bake... Hmm..." Yeva paused in rubbing the sides of the bowl, hands slick and shiny to try and skim the recipe from afar. She squinted, her nose wrinkled, "Another thirty or forty-five. What?"

He was making a face. Exasperation.

"It's a quick rising bread, it'll be fine. Here, turn over that hourglass. I don't even know why you're complaining. Now you get to be the center of attention again."

"Hm. True."

"Throw me that rag, please? I want to finish cleaning up."

Right, her face. Azrael finished his glass and threw the fabric as requested, where it clearly missed and went crumpling to the ground. Yeva shot him a look. Really? "You did that on purpose."

He protested, clearly amused, "I didn't!"

"Yes, you did," she retorted, walking over to bend at the waist to pick it up. From his vantage point, Azrael could see the shape of her ass, round and full as the medic leaned forward and the fabric of her pants stretched tight. The white feathers of his wings begin to rustle at the sight, 'Fuck,' he realized in slight surprise, no longer caring whether his glass was refilled, 'Maybe I did.'

He clicked his talons together and forced himself to look away when she straightened. A rush of dizziness overtook her and she had to pause. Her limbs felt heavy and for some reason, she was quite aware of her hands. Yeva flexed the fingers and touched her stomach where a battle raged, wiping at the rest of the flour on her face, "So, what do you want to do while we wait?"

"So much,"
he breathed, not noticing he had switched to Lorein.

Yeva laughed, happy to have understood at least that much. She did her best to reply, "Really? Yes? Tell please."

Syroa have mercy, this woman would be the death of him.

The Avriel licked his lips, youthful and primal urges demanded he soon show her, but that was not why he had asked her to drink. If she thought that... well, it would shatter too much trust. And there had been so much progress, the Avriel hoping to shift their friendship to something more should she allow it. Since Athart, sometimes they even shared a bed. Not quite in the nature he would have liked, but Yeva allowed him to hold her while they slept, where as in Saun, she had been mortified by the very idea.

He had to maintain control before bread wasn't the only thing rising. Azrael nodded towards her book. If there was any bigger mood killer, it would be whatever scholarly thing she was currently into, "I'll help you study" to make sure she understood the final verb, he repeated it in Common.

"Really~!" Yeva jumped, clapping her hands while raced to grab her book bag by the door. Then she skidded, sliding slightly across the hardwood floor in her socks when trying to stop, "You normally hate books."

"Yeah, well... I've been drinking."
word count: 885
User avatar
Approved Character
Posts: 195
Joined: Thu May 16, 2019 1:23 am
Race: Human
Profession: Medic | Cryptographer
Renown: +100
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Player Review
Wealth Tier: Tier 5
Medal count: 6



RP Medals


Re: Flour Power Pt. II

Thu Mar 26, 2020 7:28 pm

3 Ashan, 720

Somehow they found themselves on the floor, a stack of papers between them as Yeva read off some uninteresting list of surgical procedures, but at the mention of 'surgical drain', Azrael thought he might throw up, "Ugh, okay, I changed my mind."

"But we just started! And it's... it's... it's.. it's... very interesting!"

His head lifted from the ground to look up. Her speech caught and he was suddenly spry, "Are you drunk?"

"No, of course not," she shook her head. When he hadn't been looking, more of her hair had spilled out of its holding, and her cheeks were two spring roses, "I mean..." she huffed and drew quiet to focus harder than usual while she read, "I feel just a little funny, but I wouldn't say I'm drunk."

"Describe it."


"The feeling," he was grinning, scooting closer.

"My head feels light and I'm really hot. And things feel..." she rolled her shoulders, passing a small wave through her limbs, "Just..." Her lids fluttered, she looked tired, "Just different. I'm really heavy."

"Drunk," the avriel corrected, interested in pushing her further, "You haven't even had your third glass."

"Yeah, well... You haven't even helped me, soooo weeee're even. And I'm not drunk. Maybe just lightly, you know. Almost drunk"

She squinted and clutched her book. He watched her, "You don't have to drink anymore if you don't want to."

That seemed to spark a stubbornness and she looked as though she'd rise to collect the third. And then she stumbled getting up, much like he had and they both laughed once more, "Could you perform surgery right now?" he pressed, propped up on an elbow.

"The jest is on you. I don't know how to do any s-ssu-surgery. Here, I need you to write something for me." Yeva pointed to the papers and managed to make her way across the room, checking the dough as she went while Azrael plucked a loose feather and opened an ink pot. Yeva formed the dough into a loaf, and put it into a greased loaf pan, the heat from the oven almost unbearable.

It was so hot.

"What are we writing?"


"Dear Devin- No wait,"

"Who's Devin?"

Yeva ignored him, focused on centering the dough and recovering it for its second rise. Where did they put the hourglass? "Dear Mr. Thorn," she corrected, "I wanted to write to you to trial to thank you for your lesson..."

"Mr. Thorn?" Azrael sat up straighter. Didn't that name sound phallic! "What kind of lesson?"

"Will you just please write this?" Yeva wobbled a bit, working on cleaning up her mess, "-I want to thank you for your lesson at both the university and Petyr's potions. Your level of medical expertise is quite inspiring and has given me a great deal of interest in the alchemical arts and its relation to modern health care. I can only hope to aspire to one day lead a lesson of my own one day.

Your lesson held a... alluring factor..."

"I'm not writing that."

"What? Why?"

"Alluring? No. That sounds like you want to fuck him," the Avriel suddenly squinted, voice steeling, "You don't, do you?"

"What? No! Gods no. I mean, he's.... he's handsome and stuff, but ah, will you just listen? Now I can't remember what I was even saying."

Azreal was grumbling.

"Just write that I appreciate having met a man of his academic esteem and I would like to place a formal complaint... But make it sound nice!"

Yeva was trying very hard to piece together her thoughts and have them come across as scholarly as possible. She didn't need Azrael to poke more fun, but she couldn't hide the drunken leaning on the counter, "Write: I have a few concerns about a educational system post the initial graduation children experience here on the island. As a member of the Order - write the full name," Yeva cleared her throat, mouth dry.

She began to pour her third glass and it seemed to taste sweeter than before. Magic! "Umm... Yes! - As a member of the Order, I have been given opportunities to further my own personal knowledge in healing largely without the help of University, although I am very, very, very, grateful to do so now. However, I have concerns for those whose finances may not permit, ah... opportunities such as mine. How then, do the poor achieve higher .... What's the word? Higher..."

"Shh, I'm still writing."

Yeva waited impatiently, grimacing at the word, "Just take that last part out. Say.... For those from cities without faction branches, or similar backgrounds, I think the university would benefit the consideration of merit based scholarships should there be... ya know, money."

His quill slowed, "You want to make the university free?"

"No, I mean, that would be great but maybe a bit too ambitious. Add that I wonder if the faction of Intellegensia or the Scholar's Nook, or even the merchants guild might be interested in investing in the future of Scalvoris' success. I wish you well... Yours truly..."
she paused, to allow him time to write, "Yeva."

Azrael sat silent, scribbling and scratching. He was used to writing to his own council and he knew her well enough to mix the eloquence her own writing lacked with personality. She fully believed he would do this well, and of course... they could always edit once everything wore off.

"Alright," he finally muttered, "But this won't change anything."

She furrowed her brow, "Yes it will."

"Councilmen do what they want. If he does take your suggestion, he'll probably take credit to... if it works."

"...That's... I understand." she continued with her third glass, to which Azrael hadn't seemed to notice.

"What? You can't just let someone take your wins. That's ridiculous!"

"If it brings about positive change, then it's worth it."

"Yeva, I don't know who this.. this... Devin Thorn is, but academia? You should be in his seat."

"Can we not argue about this right now?"
Piecing together coherent thought to bicker with him... well, it was ruining the small buzz she had, because while she was fairly coherent, speaking meant her words risked slurring. The more she talked, the fatter the sounds felt falling out of her mouth.

"No, you always say that."

"I just... I just want what's best," Beside her the hourglass still had a few more minutes, so she meandered back over to where Azrael was resealing the ink pot. His feathers looked soft.

"And I'm telling you - you'll always be in someone's shadow if you don't stand up for yourself. Maybe you should go to the next meeting with a formal proposal, take a vote... Publicaly. Humiliat-"

Yeva ran her hand down his wings and the Avriel silenced. She did it again, tracing where the white bleed to black and for awhile they sat there, the medic sipping her wine, enjoying the texture beneath her fingers. It was one way to win an argument.

word count: 1228
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