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Nailed it! | Wednesday, 3rd period

Hannibal welcomed his students to the classroom today with a nod. "Welcome back. Today we will begin the class proper with a fairly simple recipe."

He uncovered the dish at the front, which contained steamed piggy buns. "Steamed buns. The presentation is the thing to watch for here. You will want to read up on how to proof yeast if you have never done it before, and make certain you understand the instructions for using the steamers. The rest should be straightforward, but please ask if you have any questions. Let's see if we can't at least improve upon yesterday's cooking class." He loved you, Karla, but really, pesto should not be a fire hazard!

He passed his steamed buns around so that they could taste what they were aiming for, then pointed them toward their stations. "You may begin."

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Adorably!

Prompto Argentum

Vette

Eat Hannibal's version, ponder what you'll do for yours, and if you really ought to tell him you don't read English, Vette.

Vette could not help but burst into slightly horrified giggles at the buns.

Oh. Oh no. Ugnaughts. She couldn't unsee them.

There wasn't going to be any telling anyone anything about her reading skills until she managed to stop cackling.

Prompto was so torn, because how could something that looked so cute also look so perfectly delicious?

The dilemma ultimately got even more difficult when one took into consideration that you'd have to eat it from its side, otherwise, you'd either be eating off its face or biting its butt.

And Prompto was very proud of himself for not giggling at that thought....too much.

To your stations! Cook your piggy buns!

Look, Vette didn't know what any of these ingredients were and her High Galactic was... bad... but that wasn't going to stop her from trying.

Slowly. Very slowly. She was translating as she went. And guessing at what most of those words even meant.

And making some very convincing Ugnaughts.

"How are you doing, Ms. Vette?" Hannibal asked, wandering past. "Can I help you in any way?"

Vette looked at the recipe page, looked at the ingredients, and then just shrugged and gave Hannibal a thumbs-up.

"Everything's going fine here," she chirped. "Situation under control!"

Which... which thingy was the steamer?

"If you say so," Hannibal said with a nod and no judgement. If she were determined to do it alone, he would let her. "I am here to help should you change your mind."

Nothing was on fire, so she was still beating Karla.

"Great! Thanks!"

She was totally not going to ask for help at all!

But it was good to know it was there if she needed it.

... What the heck did proofing mean??

Oh! Oh! He could do this! Steamers were a pretty basic kitchen staple around Insomnia, really, though Prompto himself had never made anything quite like this before. Still, it seemed easy enough once you really got into it, making and rolling and cutting all the little pieces of dough was kind of like building a machine if he thought about it, just...softer. And tastier!

Honestly, he just hoped they turned out looking half as cute as the ones Dr. Lecter presented, instead of winding up some sort of weird, malformed piggie-daemon monstrosities for one reason or another.

"Mr. Argentum." Hannibal nodded to him in passing. "How are your buns coming along?"

"Heh." Buns.

But please trust that Prompto did not mean to make it worse when he said, "I don't know, actually. They seem a little sticky."

Definitely glad he took off his gloves now, though he'd been reluctant at first. He just had to tell himself that no one would be looking at the tattoos on his wrist when they had their own stuff to worry about it. He hoped.

Hannibal eyed them and nodded. "Try adding just a little extra flour; be careful not to overdo it."

"A little extra flour," Prompto nodded, head bobbing as he reached for the ingredient, "don't overdo it, you got it, boss."

So there he was, adding tiny little pinches of flour one bit at at time to make sure there was no way he could overdo it, and then tried mixing it a little more.

"Oh, hey," he said as he did that, "when we make 'em, do we have to make little piggies like you did? Could we do maybe, like, puppies, or chocobos, too?"

The piggies were super cute, don't get him wrong, and he'd happily do those, but...come on. Chocobo buns would be the best!

Hannibal thought about it. "The original assignment was to duplicate what had already been done. However, I suppose I will allow other animals, provided at least one of your buns is the pig as intended."

"Alright!" Prompto laughed. "Chocobo buns, here we come!"

They would, of course, wind up looking remarkably like his hair, a similarity he would vehemently deny.

"And, hey," he chuckled a little lighter now, as he rolled up one of the buns, "you were right! A little flour did help a lot! Thanks, Dr. Lecter!"

"You're welcome," Hannibal told him with a smile and a nod. "Don't forget - at least one pig. Otherwise, I look forward to your chocobo buns."

Bring your buns to Hannibal! (Not dirty, this is class!)

Vette's steamed buns... probably shouldn't have made that clunk sound when she set them down in front of Hannibal.

They probably should have looked a hell of a lot cuter than the jowly monstrosities that she had presented to him before she leaned back, crossed her arms over her chest, and just gave him a total deadass stare.

"This feels slightly depraved."

You could bludgeon someone to death with those decapitated Ugnaught head buns. But they probably tasted okay if you didn't mind chewing.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at her. "How so?"

Vette spread her hands at the... they were nominally buns. She'd managed to make some manner of crispy roll, anyway.

"Little Ughnaught heads?" She paused. "And the one I made green instead. But he ended up with little tusky things so it worked out anyway."

"Ah, I see." Well, partially. "They are meant to be pigs." Hannibal pulled out his phone and called up a picture of one. "Food animals. What are ughnaughts?"

"Ugnaughts are people," Vette replied, picking up one of her little Ugnaught buns and waving it around demonstratively, and then reaching for the green one with her other hand. "So are Gamorreans."

She waved both buns around. Made them do a little decapitated porcine humanoid dance.

Hannibal watched the dance with amusement. "I can assure you that, while there are foods meant to look more or less like people, this was not intended as such. Although I applaud your creativity. Tell me about how you made them."

"Well..." She held up the buns and frowned at them. "The pictures were helpful for getting the shapes all right, so they look more or less like Ugnaughts."

She paused for a long moment.

... And continued pausing.

"And the top of the stove makes heat... And..."

...

Yeah, she was just making the buns dance again.

Hannibal frowned slightly. "Did you use the stove, then, instead of the steamer?"

That would explain why the buns seemed more broiled than steamed.

Vette stood there quietly.

Made the Gamorrean bun do a little shuffle-step-step back onto the plate.

"What's even the point of a steamer, anyway? It's made of, what is that? Some kind of wood? It doesn't even have an on-switch."

Hannibal stifled a sigh. "It's made of bamboo; a type of grass. The stove and oven provide dry heat; a steamer provides humid heat, cooking the food differently and giving it a more moist texture. I did suggest you read the instructions," he pointed out, torn between amusement and exasperation.

That statement had Vette putting her Ugnaught bun right back down, too, her lekku tense behind her, the tips curled in toward her back.

"Yeah, you did."

Hannibal waited a moment longer, then, when it was plain that Vette still wasn't going to say anything, "Would you prefer that I ignore your difficulties in reading?" His tone was nothing but polite curiosity. "I am prepared to do so, however I believe your classwork, as creative as it is, may suffer in the edibility."

Now those lekku weren't just tense, they were practically quivering.

"I'm working on it." A beat. And then, abruptly, almost, almost dismissively, "Thanks."

Hannibal spread his hands. "I am here to teach you. If you aren't learning, that is a failing on my part." Which he didn't sound too bothered about, no, but it was a fact.

"You are doing an admirable job so far, particularly given you start from a completely different culture and world, if I'm not mistaken. But many of our recipes will be much more complex, and I should hate to see you stymied from the start." He grinned. "I'm much more interested in what you might accomplish without that difficulty."

Vette stared at him, hard, for a few long moments. And then looked down at the buns she'd managed to make; perfectly edible, some of the portioning might have been off in the recipe, the tops were rock-solid and the bottoms were getting soggy for some reason she couldn't put a finger on. And all of that was easier to focus on than this conversation.

"I didn't even ask to come to this world. But," and now her tone was deceptively casual, almost carefree, "since I'm here, I might as well go to these classes I've been signed up for, right? I even manage to get here on the right day, at the right time. That's practically a miracle."

She wanted to pick up one of those stupid buns and throw it. Hard. At something. She didn't know what. So she just stood there and continued twitching, instead.

She just wanted to go home.

Hannibal nodded. "That must be very difficult. And I am honored you choose to put in the effort for my class." That was a little amused, but genuine. "What can I do as your teacher to make your time here more acceptable?"

Vette was quiet for a long while before finally managing words.

"Just... don't draw attention to it. I'll sort myself out."

She always did.

She had to.

"If that's what you prefer." Hannibal nodded at her. "You're doing well already, although your ughnaught buns are baked rather than steamed. They would need a different cooking time and method."

Nevertheless, he was getting out a knife and fork and cutting into one.

In deference to Vette, he would not cut through the face.

Vette was silent as she watched Hannibal cut into the bun.

Die, stupid bun, die.

"You don't... mind... if I ask for... help. Then."

He'd offered. But offers were so often traps, she rarely trusted them.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at her. "I never offer anything I'm not prepared to give."

He took a small bite and chewed. And chewed. And chewed.

Vette was going to just stand there. Waiting. Patiently. While he chewed.

... And not hide behind a lek.

"Maybe I'll do that, then. Next week."

It would probably be appreciated.

It would be, yes.

Hannibal swallowed and took a sip of water before speaking.

"Well, the flavor isn't bad, which means you likely got the ingredients correct and in reasonable proportions," he noted. Which was an accomplishment all its own. "The consistency could use work." He poked it with his fork, turning it to face him. "The artistry is quite good, if not entirely what I anticipated. So, two successes out of three, I would say."

Honestly, that was two more than she'd expected! Vette would take it!

"Just watch," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Next week, it'll be all three."

Hannibal smiled and nodded at her. "I look forward to it."

He's here before or after!

These were just too adorable not to include.

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Nailed it! | Wednesday, 3rd period

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OOC!