I Resist the Muses

Character: Celena Ducayne
Word Count: 492
open for roleplay or comments here

Prompt #44: What will they say about you after you're gone?

Prompt #38: Write about your muses favorite food.

Prompt #43: Reasons you do the job you do

Muse: Piper "Les" Allison
Fandom: Original Character

Character: Ray Vecchio
Fandom: due South

Prompt #38 - Dinner

Prompt #39 - Where you've been

Prompt #40 - Confidence

Prompt #41 - Happiest Moment

Prompt #42 - Betrayal

Prompt #43 - Reasons I do my Job

Character: Benton Fraser
Fandom: due South

Prompt #33 - What Doesn't Kill Me....

Prompt #34 - Bullet

Prompt #35 - 24 hours

Prompt #38 - Dinner

Prompt #39 - Where you've been...

Prompt #40 - Confidence

Write about your muses favorite food. Describe a complete dinner from their point of view.

To start with, it would be vegetarian. I used to eat meat, indeed for quite some time in Beleriand, particularly after my brothers and I lived in Ossiriand after the Nirnaeth, we relied entirely on hunting game for our sustenance. But when you've spent decades eating small animals you've shot or trapped yourself, cooked over an inadequate campfire and eaten in the rain, it tends to be rather off-putting. Nowadays, I don't really like meat at all, so I just don't bother with it.

One thing I never really learned how to do, was cook (aside from those campfire meals). I had a wealthy and priviledged upbringing, and while my mother did most of the cooking for the family, there were also servants, who would cater for the parties and gatherings that my parents hosted. So I never had to cook at home, it was always done for me.

Later, after losing a hand, well. Have you ever tried cutting and preparing food with one hand? It's next to impossible. So again, most of the time I was left with little choice but either allow someone else to prepare it, or eat it with as little preparation as possible.

Now, living in the Seventh Age, I find things considerably easier, though my skills are still limited to the freezer-to-microwave cuisine. I'm a scavenger by nature when it comes to food - perhaps a remnant of those days of poverty and near-starvation, so I will often just raid the 'fridge for whatever is there. Cheese, bread, salad, raw vegetables, pasta, leftover pizza, cold potatoes, fruit. Anything I can just pile on a plate and eat with my fingers. I'm not fond of highly spiced food either. Plain and simple is always best.

Of course there has to be dessert. A rich chocolate cake.



maedhros // Silmarillion

Write about your muse's favorite food. Describe a complete dinner from their point of view.

( yum, food )

Write about your muses favorite food. Describe a complete dinner from their point of view.

Nothing like Sunday Lunch at Mum's. Cor but, I can smell the roast of beef right now.

My favourite; roast of beef, roast potatoes, gravy, neeps and peas. Sometimes we'd even get yorkshire pudding. Oh its bloody heaven thinking on it.

Then there's steak and salad. That's what Jack cooks for me. It's not as good as Mum's, but its a special meal none the less. He over does it, so I end up cooking. Not that I mind.

Write about your muse's favorite food. Describe a complete dinner from their point of view.

When I was a small boy, I loved confit: fruit boiled in sweet red wine. Grapes, apricots, figs, dates and raisins, all manner of fruit, stewed until the whole concoction was of a rich purple colour... I could gorge myself on confit until I was sick, and I remember I used to get my ears cuffed for indulging. But the fondness for over-sweet things is a prerogative of children, women, and very old men – in short, all manner of people with blunt palates.

Favourite food? You sound like my father. So modest, demanding so little in his private life. If he had his say, there was only one course, worse: one dish, to be shared by all, as if we were peasants huddled around a trestle table, poking our spoons in one great bowl. His public feasts were magnificent affairs, make no mistake about it; father knew how to silence the nay-sayers, preferably by stuffing honey-glazed capon in their mouths. Figuratively speaking, of course. But I hated dining with him alone and excused myself whenever I could; the prospect of staring at a single poveretto dish was not very inviting, see.

( So, a feast. )

Sorry for skipping last week.

Write about your muses favorite food. Describe a complete dinner from their point of view.

Just because we're curious!