Difference between revisions of "2022-02-14: Valentine Blues"

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(Created page with "*'''Cutscene: <Valentine Blues.>''' *'''Cast:'''<Character :: Edge Sainklaus> *'''Where:''' <Dreisstrager> *'''Date:''' <2022-02-14> *'''Summary''': ''<Edge Sainklaus Lonely V...")
 
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*'''Cutscene: <Valentine Blues.>'''
 
*'''Cutscene: <Valentine Blues.>'''
*'''Cast:'''<Character :: Edge Sainklaus>
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*'''Cast:''' <[[Character :: Edge Sainklaus]]>
 
*'''Where:''' <Dreisstrager>
 
*'''Where:''' <Dreisstrager>
 
*'''Date:''' <2022-02-14>
 
*'''Date:''' <2022-02-14>
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Eventually, the wrapped chocolate finds itself leaning up against the door. There's no sender signature on it.
 
Eventually, the wrapped chocolate finds itself leaning up against the door. There's no sender signature on it.
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[[Category:Cutscenes]]
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[[Category:Phase 1, Turn 1]]

Latest revision as of 07:45, 15 February 2022

  • Cutscene: <Valentine Blues.>
  • Cast: <Edge Sainklaus>
  • Where: <Dreisstrager>
  • Date: <2022-02-14>
  • Summary: <Edge Sainklaus Lonely Valentines.>

Edge squints again, his face an immense grimace. The pot on the electric stove bubbles its contents - the difference had been incredibly tangible, between the way he'd originally been trying to do things, and the way Mayvy, Zurvan and the rest had advised him ..

... but ... what's the point?

He couldn't help the disheartened sagging of his shoulders. Even if it was better than before, Edge nervously paces back and forth, the chocolate would probably taste average at best. And it's not like learning how to not burn the sweet treat had made him any better at shaping it - at 'tempering' it as Mayvy had said - so it'd still look just as horrendously ugly as all the rest.

A quiet, traitorous voice at that back of his mind whispered that it was just too fitting. Begrudgingly, he leaned into that whisper's sweetly cruel coos. After all ... no matter how hard I try, the result would be the same, right? Mis-shapen and offensive.

He'd even dragged Az into his inconsiderate insecurities. The conversation they'd had while he cleaned himself up, after Nine's 'birthday' had left a heavy, lead weight in his heart. And he felt it sinking deeper and deeper into his body, until it reached his gut and took everything it passed with it. Edge bends over the counter, the abrupt stomach ache making him dizzy. " .... " Shit.

"Choco! Choco!" the purple Haro reminds him. One of the ones recovered after that goat-horned alien had visited them the first time - they'd spread throughout the ship like little helpers by the various crewmembers who took a shine to him. "Right, yeah. One of us has gotta' keep the time." Edge says, pushing himself up to attend to the pot. The process that followed was difficult for him as he carefully worked with the substance to pour it into the mold and then feature it with a long metal prod, to shape the faces.

All that was left at the end of the ordeal was to cool it in the industrial freezer. Not too fast, or it'd ruin it.

More waiting.

.... I've been at this all day and night. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner already went by. .. And now there's no one else here in the cafeteria but me.

It was a mess, too. It would take all night and morning to clean up, he realized. By the time the chocolate was cooled enough to harden, he was met - with another bitter disappointment. The faces were warped from the cartoonsh, cutesy expressions of Mitsuba Greyvalley and Az Sainklaus into a droopy, smote look - almost as if their faces had been melted down, like wax.  .. yeah. This is fitting, isn't it? It's just what I do to the people around me. This kind of distortion..

Despite the self-deprecation, he still wraps them. He'd wasted enough chocolate and time, and made a big enough mess. Once the faces were wrapped up and ribboned for their recipients, Edge took off from the cafeteria, apron still tied around his waist and splattered with stains. Eventually, he finds himself in front of the Captain's Quarters. What .. am I doing here? It's not even Valentine's Day anymore.

No amount of denial could fix the fact he'd spend the entire day in the kitchen, and now - deep into the midnight hours - it had already passed onto the next day. Stalled here at the door, he feels the cramp from earlier coming on again before he calms it with a thick swallowing of his throat. But I'd regret it if I just left it at this, wouldn't I..?

After all that, if I just gave up .. would I really be able to tell myself that I did what I could? Even if there's no point in it - even if it's something she's gonna' just throw in the trash - all I'd be doing is running away from it. That's not only breaking a promise to Mitsuba, or Az .. but to myself, too..

Eventually, the wrapped chocolate finds itself leaning up against the door. There's no sender signature on it.