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scrawler-jay · 4 years ago

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of mice and artblock

So, midterms happened and I abandoned this blog for a while. But now I’m back, and I come bearing mice.

I’ve been really struggling with finding subjects I like to draw. I’m happy to work on skeleton studies until Judgment Day to better understand anatomy, but I know I need to balance “homework” art with “for fun” art, or else risk losing motivation for learning to draw -- and I’m so used to writing fiction at this point that no subject really appeals to me artistically unless it’s got 5,000+ words of story attached (or at least some narrative/character ideas, yanno -- something for my brain to pick at). The obvious solution is to draw concept art and characters from my written stories, but I feel really intimidated by that because I’m such a beginner artist that nothing I create now will do justice to the vision I have in my head.

I need art OCs and concepts – things that I will only draw art of, and have never written a story about. Stuff that doesn’t have to match a previously established, written story, and that I can change as I learn more and my skills improve.

I ended up drawing a bunch of mice.

This was initially just a whim. Human anatomy requires a lot of skill to pull off, especially faces and hands, but mice felt more beginner-friendly to me. Admittedly, I was going for a more cartoony style as opposed to photorealism, so if you’re looking at this from a realism perspective then these are pretty poor mice. However, I don’t feel ashamed of them, which I am taking as a good sign.

I kept drawing one mouse over and over. I ended up calling him Leo just because it was funny – “leo” refers to lions, but here Leo is just a little mouse. But of course, giving him a name (and a gender, incidentally) is the start of a story. Via a flight of fancy, I got it into my head that I wanted to do a painting of Leo trying to catch a big snowflake. I made some thumbnails of what I wanted the scene to look like, and then cut out a roughly 7 inch x 7 inch piece of watercolor paper from a big sheet that I had under my bed, sketched the scene in pencil, and then finished with watercolor pencils (and a white gel pen for the snowflakes). The process probably took 2.5 to 3 hours.

So, now the lore is that Leo is a mouse living in a little house in an old tree at the edge of the woods, and he wears a red scarf. I did not like this painting. It seemed over-saturated and the colors didn’t quite work the way I wanted them to. I ended up watching a tutorial on color theory, and decided to redo the painting using my newfound knowledge of color schemes. I used this color palette tool to get an idea of what kinds of colors would look good together, and settled on a complementary scheme with bluish green and brownish red.

And then, everything went wrong.

I tried to redo the painting, still working traditionally. I rushed the sketch because I was so eager to get right into working with color. This time, to avoid over-saturation, I used watercolors out of a pan rather than in pencil form. Mixing the colors in the lid of the pan took a really long time because I was so picky about shades, and because I continued rushing I didn’t allow the layers enough time to dry. Leo’s scarf (now green instead of red) bled into his russet fur, and the mailbox was the wrong shape, and I tried to erase a pencil line and created a dark blotch over an area that was supposed to be white with snow – and then I gave up.

I had downloaded Krita, a piece of digital drawing/painting software, a while ago, but hadn’t had any success using it because my desk isn’t big enough to accommodate both a laptop and my small tablet. Using my lap to hold the tablet was an exercise in frustration, and I knew so little about how digital art works that I just felt really overwhelmed and lost whenever I opened the program.

However, Krita (like most digital art software) has an undo button that I find very alluring, so I decided to try it again, now on a shiny new desk from Ikea that is actually big enough to support tablet and laptop together. I think just the space on the desk really made all the difference, but also I was determined to get this artwork of a mouse to a place where I felt satisfied with it.

I spent a solid 5 hours working on what ended up being a very simple colored drawing of a mouse catching a snowflake outside his little house. I barely blended anything at all, and there’s no light source that required me to shade anything – it’s just flat color. However, I really like these colors, and I think I did well (for an absolute beginner). I want to go back and add textures/shading to give an impression of depth, but I'm not sure how.

Leo – like all of my figures – feels really stiff, so I also want to work on gestures/studies of mice doing things. And, thanks to the popularity of mice as lab animals and pets, there are way more reference photos of mice than I expected! Most refs depict the house mouse, Mus musculus, but I did find the work of a wildlife photographer named Dean Mason who spent 15 years photographing harvest mice (micromys minutus).

Unfortunately, all of the prior artwork in this post I had drawn almost purely from imagination, and I think it shows. I studied two mice from photos in pencil, then erased the lines until they were barely visible and tried to do the fur texture in ink (with a dip pen, so there is some unevenness when the pen was extra inky).

Left is my first attempt doing the fur texture. I was more cautious with layering pen strokes, so you can see the lines of strokes fairly evenly. Right is my 2nd attempt, where I was bolder with the pen. I like these mice more than the one I created in the digital painting; these ones (especially the right) feel more Beatrix Potter-ish, which is a vibe I like.

Do I want to go back and fix the anatomy in my digital art of Leo? Yes. I also want to take another stab at doing this piece traditionally, but this time, I'd go monochrome and try to do everything in brown. However, part of me is exhausted from drawing ten million snowflakes and does not want to relive that experience with a gel pen -- I've already done it once with a tablet pen, and that was enough.

I have a hazy, far-off goal of creating a comic of Leo having adventures with another mousy friend, but that’s so far in the future that it’s not worth spending time considering right now. In the nearer future, however, Leo’s friend might become a reality – I know he’s an albino mouse (name TBD) who either escaped from a drug-testing facility (I loved The Secret of NIMH movie as a kid) or else is a pet who was dumped into the wild by a human owner who no longer wanted him. Leo is outgoing and adventurous, and this friend is shy and cautious.

#beginner artist #OC art #mouse #art

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wewererogue · 5 years ago

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Elminster's Guide to the Realms: Nurneene's Marvelous Masks

[by Ed Greenwood, illustrated by David Day / Dragon #321, July 2004 - via]

For years, the most stylish and spectacular masks worn at revels in Waterdeep have been made and sold at Nurneene’s Marvelous Masks. Nurneene’s is a tiny, almost demurely hidden shop that stands on the east side of the Street of Bells in Waterdeep’s Castle Ward. Better known for its colorful proprietress and her wares than as a flashy landmark, Nurneene’s is also notorious for the mask in its display window - and increasingly for rumors of its connection to the god Mask, Master of All Thieves and Lord of Shadows.

What Meets the Eye

This shop rises four floors above street level and has a peaked roof (with a porthole window opening into an attic) that makes it seem even taller. It’s only about 10 feet wide, and it’s jammed between two other, larger shops set a foot or two back from the sweet with glittering facades of lamps, angled mirrors, and mannequins clad in stylish gowns. The front of Nurneene’s is sheathed in fieldstone, and its upper floors each have a single shuttered window. These windows are all closed and barred from within; only the uppermost is ever opened, and then only in the hottest summer weather. A tiny, round door is located in the pinnacle of the eaves, where the steep slope of the roof reaches its peak. Like many Waterdhavian shops that abut neighboring structures, the entire roof is sloped not just from side to side, but also canted so that its side-gutters are markedly higher at the street-front wall, draining away to downspouts in the rear.

The storefront of Nurneene’s is taken up by a door and a display window. Through the window, the same thing can always be seen: cream-hued muslin rising in a smooth drape from the counter it covers to a valance. Between the valance and this backdrop hang three lanterns. They illuminate a row of black wooden letters set individually on the cloth-covered counter to spell “Nurneene” and “Masks,” and a floating black cloth half-mask that hangs in the air beneath the lights, turning slightly as if an invisible wearer is scrutinizing passersby.

This effect is so eerie and pronounced - the mask moves rapidly forward to peer at some individuals - that many Waterdhavians refuse to pass by the shop. A street roustabout given to bouts of drinking and violence once loudly declared his intention to “get rid of that haunted mask shop,” and hurled a cobblestone through its window in the darkest hours of a winter night, intending to follow it with a burning brand. The tale of what befell next has spread all over Waterdeep, as one of the many whispered snippets of local lore: The mask lunged at the would-be arsonist, nearly smothered the man, and chased him through the streets until the man was wrestled to a halt by a Watch patrol.

The ground floor of the shop is the showroom and wrapping area, with a “buying corner” at the back. Showrooms (with closets of angled mirrors for a client to stand amid) and storage drawers for standard models of masks are on the second floor. Cutting rooms containing softwood heads with pins, shears, dyeing pans, and drying stretch frames fill the two topmost floors. The uppermost floor also has some beds for workers to sleep in and a hipbath. The attic above is used to store old furniture, shop records over a decade old, and the like. The cellars are used to store bolts of cloth (wrapped in linen covers and hanging from the rafters on angled end-hooks).

The Lurking Mask

In appearance, the black floating mask - dubbed “the Lurking Mask” by someone long ago - looks like this,

except that it’s unusually thick and large enough that only a titan or giant could actually wear it as a facial cover. The mask is a dark purple that appears black in most lighting conditions.

Some time ago, Nurneene worked as an apprentice in a mask-making shop somewhat larger (but less prestigious) than her own store. Clearly more skillful than any other apprentice (and some say even her master), Nurneene toiled in the back of the shop, creating mask after splendid mask, for which her master took full credit.

One day, after Nurneene had lived this life for several years, an ancient-looking man returned to the shop (having purchased one of Nurneene’s skillfully rendered masks for a ball) in search of the one who had created it. When Nurneene’s master took credit for the handiwork, the man scoffed and demanded the truth. Flustered, the mask-maker brought out Nurneene and presented her to the ancient man, who promised someday to reward her for her excellent craft.

Several years later, as Nurneene watched the dream of her own shop crumble down around her, the ancient-looking man called upon her and promised to bring in more customers than she alone could handle. He instructed her to make a large mask with the same attention to detail of her normal masks and clear out her front window. When he returned a few days later, he set the mask in the empty front window and cast a number of spells upon it. Before Nurneene’s eyes, the mask rose into the air and took the position it has maintained ever since.

The mask is a Small animated object permanently enchanted with animate objects and fly spells. It is programmed to hover in the window, to peer at passersby, and to guard the shop and itself if one or the other is attacked. The animated mask also obeys simple verbal commands from Nurneene. Only once has anyone ever successfully dispelled the permanent spells on the mask, but the mask regained its enchantments in a few days.

Nurneene and the Lord of Shadows

The proprietress of the most highbrow mask shop in Waterdeep is a skilled seamstress and crafter of masks, with a true genius for cutting, steaming, and binding materials to obtain a desired shape. Many of her masks soar like crowns or support shells or side-wings that alter the perceived shape of the wearer’s head. Scaled, plush, metallic, or satinlike, the surface finish of her creations is exquisite.

Nurneene is also patient, a diplomat used to handling arrogant and difficult clients, and a good teacher. Her small but loyal staff of six fitters and mask-crafters have, under her tutelage, acquired skills almost to match her own. The two men and four women who work for her can all serve in the shop and make masks; Nurneene simply divides their time so the most beautiful women do the most meeting of clients, and the less attractive plus their male counterparts do more of the backroom work.

Petite and graceful, Nurneene has white skin, russet hair, and large green eyes. Her voice is husky and inclined to rasp when raised, so she’s adopted a quiet, murmuring mode of speech. In recent years, she’s increasingly retired from public view, gliding regally out from a curtained alcove behind the buying-counter when patrons become difficult. If real trouble erupts, she summons her other staff with a handbell. Nurneene’s male staff are both rogues (LE male human Rog3) chosen for their strength and swiftness; they are customarily armed with-and skilled in the use of daggers, darts, saps, and slings.

Some years ago, Nurneene fell in with some thieves who hired her to make masks that would conceal lockpicks, flexible saw-knives, and poisoned darts. She was excited by their exploits but wise enough to know she’d never be more than adequate at actual thievery - and could make a better and safer living as a fence, coin-cleaner (Note from Elminster: Ye would say “money launderer.”), and procurer of supplies for thieves wanting to keep out of sight for a time. She became an avid fan of the city’s thieves, fascinated by their deeds and hungry for news of their unfolding plots and exploits. This knowledge in turn made her dangerous to them - but she saw a way to justify her curiosity about Waterdhavian thievery, stay alive, and even hold some power in Waterdeep’s shady underworld: becoming a cleric of Mask.

To do so, Nurneene sacrificed her wealth and herself to a cold and cruel priest of the Lord of Shadows named Hathrel. As her master, he commanded the building of a chapel to Mask in the deepest cellars beneath her shop (at Nurneene’s expense), and set her to the task of acquiring poisons that would slay paralyze, blind, deafen, or cause slumber. By ongoing sales of these substances, Hathrel hoped to become truly rich. Unfortunately, he didn’t consider Nurneene’s distaste for handling such substances, and he misjudged how her hatred of him had grown to outstrip her fascination and fear. In Skullport, he fell victim to the poisons he’d ordered her to procure, leaving the mask-maker to take control of the small flock of thieves who worshiped at the chapel.

Now grown in number to sixteen or so, these worshipers are almost all street thieves. They have come to love Nurneene, who gives them shelter, food, encouragement, hiding-places for themselves and their loot, and even clothing and bathing facilities - all in return for their “confessions.” So long as they tell her all, she makes them welcome, never demands offerings to Mask or coins for her services (although the devout who can afford it do leave temple offerings), and shares news and gossip she thinks will be of benefit to them.

For her part, Nurneene (NE female human Clr6/Mask1/Exp6/Rog1) has found a satisfying purpose in life (beyond creating ever-wilder masks for rich and frivolous fools). She’s come to truly believe in Mask, and now spends hours praying before his altar, seeking inspiration and guidance. Already she’s been rewarded with visions that directed her to where Hathrel had hidden a scroll, and she has been told in whispers by a hooded dream-figure to “weave schemes and plots to make thieves of Waterdeep’s wealthy and powerful.”

Elminster’s Notes

Know ye that Nurneene bids fair to become a real power in Waterdeep if no ill befalls her. She’s clever enough not to let greed rule her. If the thieves who obey her can manage to do the same, she might well guide them in a sophisticated and subtle series of intrigues and thefts that earns far more coin than even the most spectacularly bold “snatch job” … and do so unnoticed, mayhap for years.

As for her plots, I can reveal that she’s already begun spreading rumors among young noble wastrels - knowing very well that they’ll whisper them to their friends - of a secret society of Deep Lords they might be able to join if they contact the right folk in Skullport and successfully undertake the missions they’re given. Being a Deep Lord, the whispers say, will bring riches and in some few years real power, as the Deep Lords begin to subvert the Lords of Waterdeep and ultimately come to rule the city.

Now, only foolish nobles are likely to believe they could ever hold real power when dealing with illithids, drow, and worse from the Realms Below … but then again, Nurneene won’t be the first cunning person to profit from the naiveté of others.

She’s also busily trying to arrange a warehousing cartel and a corruption of the tax clerks of Castle Waterdeep. When she feels in need of a little entertainment, her own concealing creations allow her to attend revels in costume, posing as visiting nobility. Dalliances there often allow her to collect a few gems from young, impressionable noblemen without even going to the trouble of thievery. Not bad for a mask-maker, eh? (68)

#long post #Waterdeep #Forgotten Realms #Ed Greenwood #mask #fluff #how to rogue #d&d #patron deity #thieves' guild

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unpack-my-heart · 5 years ago

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IT Fandom Prompt Week - Day 4 - Medieval AU

This is the first chapter of my alchemy AU that i’ve written for IT Fandom Prompt week day 4 - Medieval AU.

Read it under the cut or on AO3 HERE

@constantreaderfool @tinyarmedtrex @xandertheundead @violetreddie

IGNIS AURUM PROBAT

The earth yawned open, and out lurched Chaos.

Chaos looked around, flexed its muscles, before immediately giving birth.

Out of the womb of darkness came Gaia, Tartatus, Eros, Erebus and Nyx. Five wriggling, squishy things. The five wriggling, squishy things collectively blinked, and Chaos retreated.

From Gaia came the Titans, and from Cronus and his sister-wife Rhea came Zeus. Zeus, King of Gods, who reigned with an iron fist and wandering eyes, relished the power he held over humanity. Enraged with Prometheus for giving them the gift of fire, Zeus’ fondness for humanity waxed and waned, before ultimately decreasing to such a pitiful degree that the God’s who sat on Mount Olympus looked upon Earth with kindness in their eyes no more.

When Christianity swept over Greece in the fourth-century, and the God who were sat upon Mount Olympus were eschewed by humanity for good, Zeus’ temper grew foul. Sparks of lightning scarred the Earth in the tenth-century, Atlas adjusted his grip on the Earth, and profane things rose from the wounds.

The God’s who sat on Mount Olympus, bored and ignored, were resigned to myth and legend.

But they remained, and they watched.

Edward Kaspbrak had been plucked from the bosom of his mother at the age of two, and whisked away to the dingy alchemical workshop of one Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim (or, to Edward and his closest friends, Paracelsus) to serve as his ward and apprentice. Edward quickly forgot about his mother, who presumably also forgot about him.

The reliable constants in Edward’s early life were glass bottles, bitter smelling herbs and the lingering metallic scent in the air. His childhood was fundamentally unlike other children his age, who worked on their parents farms by day and slept, exhausted and filthy, at night. Instead, Edward practiced the transmutatory art by day, and meticulously copied out complicated spagyric formulas by candle light at night. Paracelsus’ workshop was somewhat small, and it was endlessly untidy with stacks of leather-bound books balanced precariously upon every surface. There was one small window that provided daylight and helped the poisonous vapours emitted by the various burning metals to escape the room. Other than this, however, the workshop was claustrophobic. Russet coloured clay vases littered the floor, and more than once Edward found himself tripping over them, sending the herbs he’d spent all morning carefully collecting up into the air, only to rain down like green snowflakes.

First and foremost, Paracelsus’ workshop served as the first port of call for those infected with various diseases. Whether they believed they were being punished by a vengeful God, or had a constitution that made them prone to ill-health, they would come, pay whatever Paracelsus deemed appropriate, and then spend between four and eight hours screaming in agony whilst the alchemist rubbed a slightly silvery ointment into the infected flesh, followed by a hot press of guaiacum over the infected area. Edward had grown accustomed to the howls of the infected, as they lay on the straw mattress in the corner of the workshop. Sometimes they pleaded with him to rub the ointment off with a wet cloth, or to put them out of their misery in increasingly creative, but gruesome ways. Edward never said anything to them, ignoring them in favour of mixing a new batch of quicksilver to be spread onto the skin of the next unfortunate who stumbled through the door.

The first time Edward watched Paracelsus cure the pox with the ointment made from liquid mercury he’d been amazed – half convinced his eyes had deceived him, and half convinced Paracelsus was, in fact, some sort of demonic druid belched from the underbelly of Hell.

“Edward, the body works not according to the four humours, but according to the tria prima. The three principles of life. The spagyric art should not just be applied to the transmutation of metals, but also to the great microcosm – the human body, made in His image. We can use the same principles we use to purify metals to purify the human body – to separate the pure from the impure,” is what Paracelsus had told Edward one night, whilst they were both elbow deep in a watery stew that tasted more like turnip than it did beef. Edward was not a fan of turnip.

Paracelsus must have sensed Edward’s confusion wafting over the table, because he continued.

“See, you saw how the quicksilver burnt the pox straight off Mary Croft’s arms?”

“Is that why she screamed loud enough to startle the chickens in the croft?” Edward asked.

“Yes, child,” Paracelsus laughed, “It is a rather… painful … procedure. Disease is the infection of the body by bad seeds, and we use the spagyric art to refine the spiritual essence of these seeds, so that we might expel the poison from the body and from the soul. Of course, it is all the more painful when drank as an elixir but the risk of death is too great. An ointment, though painful, is a much safer way of administering the cure”

“Does it cure them?” Edward queried, a little too quickly.

Paracelsus visibly bristled.

“Did Mary Croft walk out of here alive?”

“Yes”

“Were her blisters gone?”

“I suppose so, Sir”

“Then, as far as I’m concerned, she’s cured. Not another word”

– X –

As time passed, and he became older, one thing became startlingly clear.

Edward Kaspbrak was, by all accounts, a terrible alchemist.

On his eighth birthday – a day that did not mark the day he actually turned eight years of age, but rather, a date that marked six years since Edward had become Paracelsus’ ward – Paracelsus decided that it was time to begin teaching Edward the most basic alchemical concepts. Fortunately, his decision coincided with catching Edward with his nose in a copy of Galen’s De Facultatibus Naturalibus.

“There is more learning in my shoe buckles than in all Galen!” Paracelsus roared, smacking the book from Edward’s hand. The book fell to the floor, spine cracked down the centre.

“What have I told you about the humours, child! They are the misguided theories of irreligious heathens ignorant of true knowledge. Today we will begin your education in the spagyric art, and I will chase the Aristotelian knowledge from your head with a spear”

True to his word, Paracelsus began teaching Edward the art of alchemy.

– X –

“Try again, child. You must learn by doing, experience by the fire is the only way that you may become a true healer”

“The fire bites me, Sir” Edward lamented, rubbing the small red welt that was rapidly appearing on the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

“That is because you don’t treat it with respect, Edward. The fire is the master of all things, and you must treat it as such. Now, try again,” Paracelsus instructed, wiping muddy brown sediment from the bottom of a swan-necked glass bottle.

The guaiacum in the metal pan simmered, and when Edward added the liquid quicksilver after bringing the pan off the heat, it spat at Edward’s hand, before solidifying into an unusable mass.

Paracelsus sighed.

“I have never seen somebody coagulate mercury before. Either you are a genius, or a fool. Again!”

Several days later, Edward found himself with nothing to do. Paracelsus was consumed by a large leather-bound book, not paying any attention to what Edward was doing, who took it upon himself to undertake some independent study.

Earnest as ever, Edward stood over the burning fire, wincing slightly from the heat, trying to turn a block of wood he had found in the workshop into … something. He was trying to simultaneously anoint the wood with the right amount of solution and heat it to the right temperature when, slowly but surely, the wood began to blacken, and pieces started to fall away in large flakes.

“Sir! Sir! I think, I think I may have done it!” Edward cried out, hopping from foot to foot in excitement, trying desperately not to let the rapidly blackening wood fall into the flames.

“Done what?” Paracelsus called out from his place at the table.

“Done… something! I have made coal!”

“From what?!” Paracelsus called out again, sounding vaguely more interested. Edward heard the scrape of the chair, and the characteristic thump of his mentors feet.

“Look!”

Paracelsus was silent.

“Sir?”

“Edward, what you have done is burnt some wood. That is not transmutation, that is not any form of alchemy, you have turned yourself into a conduit for the stove.”

“…Oh” Edward faltered, dropping the wood and watching the fire consume it hungrily.

Paracelsus must immediately sense his student’s disappointment, because he immediately steps forward to console him.

“The spagyric art is a fickle one. She will not be mastered by anyone who, on a whim, decides to try and tame her. You must practice. You must feel the force of all the great men who have stood before you, and channel that energy into your studies. I have faith in you, Eddie.”

– X –

Ten summers later, and Edward was eighteen years old and no better at the spagyric art than he was when Paracelsus had begun his education. Edward had been resigned to the position of aid, a status normally reserved for women. He prepared the ingredients, scrubbed the vomit and blood from the floors, and mostly, just stayed out of the way. When his education had stagnated, he had expected Paracelsus to turn him out of the workshop, and condemn him to a life of poverty. But that hadn’t happened. Over the past fourteen summers, Paracelsus had grown rather fond of the rather useless, but sincere boy. He’d watched Edward mature into a kind-hearted earnest young man, and despite his failure to turn base metals into gold, his heart appeared to made of the stuff. Besides, turning Edward away would require training up a new aid which was, quite frankly, too taxing. So Edward remained under the tutelage of Paracelsus, despite never actually applying his theoretical knowledge beyond mixing up the ointments.

Until Richard Tozier walked into the workshop.

– X –

Richard Tozier had the pox.

He assumed he’d caught the pox from one of the women he’d met at the tavern. This is what he told his parents. In reality, Richard knew he’d caught it from the young man he’d been secretly lying with for half a year. Announcing to your mother and father that he’d caught the pox from the local sodomite wouldn’t endear him to his parents any more than his alternative story, so he stuck to that. They wailed and lamented about divine retribution and how his mortal sins were manifesting on his skin. They, of course, send him off to the nearest healers as quick as his pock-marked feet would carry him.

That’s how he found himself standing outside the alchemists workshop, hesitating briefly before landing three swift, sharp knocks on the rickety door.

It opened almost instantly.

“Hello? Can I help you?”

The owner of the voice was small, male and inextricably beautiful. Richard knew that he wasn’t supposed to find men beautiful, and that God must have made a catastrophic error when creating him, but he didn’t much care for convention.

“Uh – Yes. Yes, I’m looking for the healer? The – the alchemist? My body is entirely covered with–”

Richard gestured to his skin, the angry red welts on his skin practically pulsing on his otherwise unblemished skin.

The young man’s eyes widened, before he schooled his face into something Richard assumed was supposed to be apathy, but still looked more like panic than anything else.

“The alchemist is not here presently. You will have to come back another day, when he’s here, which he is not right now, I mean – he isn’t here to help you, you will have to come back”

The young man tried to wedge the door shut in Richard’s face, but Richard managed to stick his leather-clad foot out in time, so that the door could not completely shut.

“Excuse me, but I really must insist that you help me. I cannot go home before I am cured, for I fear that my father would beat me with a rather large stick if I did. Can you not help me? Who are you? Are you the apprentice?” Richard practically begged, nudging the door open slightly by wiggling his foot.

“I suppose I am, technically, but I really cannot – I have never – I have never successfully cured anyone, not on my own. I don’t think I can do this on my own, you really must wait for Paracelsus to return”

“I fear that I might drop down dead on your doorstep. Is that what you want? To have to step over my melancholy, rotting corpse to leave your house? To drag it to a shallow grave, to have to cover my body with–“

“Enough!”

Richard smiled wolfishly, watching the young man’s face contort into a picture of disgust.

“So you’ll help me?”

“I suppose I must”

“There really is no risk, I’m practically dead already.”

– X –

The concoction of herbs and water in the small metal pan bubbled furiously, and Edward’s forehead glistened with a panicked sheen of sweat. He had scrabbled around the workshop hunting for the vial of liquid quicksilver, before finding one lodged in the centre of an old book that Edward had watched Paracelsus pour over night by night, etching complicated alchemical symbols that Edward didn’t recognise into it with a quill. Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he looked up at the stranger who was currently sat on the straw mattress. The room was full of thick grey smoke, and the bitter-sweet aroma of burning plant matter. Pouring the solution into a glass bottle, Edward closed his eyes prayed that the cure would work. He had seen Paracelsus anoint hundreds of people with the solution, and he was confident that he could brew the solution with his eyes closed. However, his hands still shook as he carefully brought the small glass bottle over to where the stranger sat.

“My name is Edward, what is your name, Sir?” Edward asked, trying to maintain a strong steadiness in his voice, and only just succeeding.

“Richard Tozier, but my friends call me Rich. You can call me that, if you like”

“So, Richard, have you ever had a quicksilver ointment applied to your body before?” Edward pressed, collecting pieces of somewhat dirty rag that he would use to press the ointment into Richard’s bleeding skin.

“I have not. Why? Am I in for a pleasant surprise?” Richard asked, tone too light-hearted to suggest that he knew what he was about to experience. Edward wordlessly tugged at Richard’s tunic, and Richard tugged it over his head, exposing his torso that was also littered with red welts.

“Not entirely” Edward hummed, pouring some of the foul smelling ointment onto the rag, hesitating for a second, before bringing it to Richard’s skin with an audible gulp.

As predicted, Richard howled like a struck cat.

“Keep still! Sorry – You must keep still, the application process is precarious and it’ll hurt even more if I wipe this on your uninfected skin” Edward snapped, but smoothed the hand that wasn’t holding the quicksilver over Richie’s trembling arm.

“Sorry, sorry. This hurts like nothing I have ever experienced before, and my father dropped me on my head when I was a child” Richard replied, wincing, causing Edward to laugh, loud and bright.

“Ah, that explains why you are … the way you are”

Edward continued to dab the quicksilver ointment onto Richie’s welts, concentrating hard enough that he feared his eyes might pop in their sockets. Richard was almost entirely silent, save for the occasional hiss and whimper. At one point, when Eddie rubbed the ointment on a particularly painful looking welt on Richard’s inner thigh, Richard grabbed Edward’s arm.

“Is this … okay?” Richard asked tentatively, flexing his grip on Edward’s bicep. Edward considered removing the man’s hand, wary of the fact that Paracelsus could walk back in and see his apprentice sat on the floor, between the legs of a pock-marked man, and throw him onto the street in a heap.

Edward didn’t move his hand.

Slowly, and with painstaking precision, Edward continued to apply the ointment to every scab on Richard’s body.

“You’re very quiet, little mouse”

“Mouse?! I am no mouse” Edward cried, sitting back on his heels.

“Well, you have tawny hair and a small nose and I’m sure if I poked you here,” Richard reached over to Edward’s side, giving it an almighty poke and causing Edward to shriek, “Ah yes. You squeak, Sir, exactly like a mouse”.

“I am not a mouse” Edward replied indignantly, but try as he might, his lips twitched at the sides, threatening to bloom.

“Well, what are you then?”

“I am,” Edward paused, before replying, “I am a fox”

“A fox?! Are you cunning, then? Wily and tricksy?”

“I suppose so. I have a vicious bite, so you better be careful or I’ll –�� Edward announced, and gnashed his teeth together, simultaneously a threat and something … different. Something entirely more.

“A vicious bite? Is that a promise?” Richie queried, but the wink he tried to aim at Edward mutated into a scowl as the quicksilver was applied to a scab on his shoulder.

A blanket of quiet settled over them. Edward continued to apply the ointment, and Richard watched him work. After a while, Richard grew tense.

“Edward, can I tell you something?”

“Um, I suppose. What is it?”

“It’s something that you might find repulsive”

“By God’s name, if you ask me to apply this ointment to your …,” Edward gestured vaguely at Richard’s crotch, “I shall force it down your throat”

“…Oh”

“So you were going to ask me to do that?”

“No, well, no I wasn’t but it was … somewhat related”

“Somewhat related to your…,” Edward gestured at Richard’s crotch again, feeling his cheek grow hot with embarrassment.

“No it’s related to me asking you to. It’s – oh, to hell with it, I do not only lie with women”

“Pardon?”

Richard sighed, shifting slightly on the mattress.

“I do not only lie with women”

Edward didn’t say anything, just let Richard’s words hang in the air like low flying birds.

“I lie with men. I like lying with men. It’s … different. In some ways, much better, it’s –“

“Why are you telling me this?” Edward interrupted.

“Because I am probably going to die, and this secret has been consuming me for weeks and … if I didn’t share it with someone I fear I might go mad”

“But why me?”

“Let’s just call it intuition, little mouse”

– X –

“How long have you been an alchemist?”

“I’m not … I’m not technically an alchemist, for I – It’s complicated, Sir”

“Sir?” Richard quoted, eyebrow raised comically high on his forehead.

“Sorry, force of habit. Paracelsus instructs me to call the patients ‘Sir’”

“Hmmm” Richard hummed, his eyes glinting mischievously, looking ever the trickster.

“What now?”

“I rather like it when you call me Sir”

Edward spluttered then, almost dropping the bottle of ointment. Richard reached out to steady his arm, causing Edward to flinch even more.

“Are you feeling okay, Edward?”

“You are a nightmare, Richard” Edward cursed, but the smile that had fully bloomed on his face suggested otherwise.

– X –

The first time Edward had realised he was different he’d been sitting outside the workshop. The summer sun tingled on his skin, when Robert Greatrakes, the mason’s apprentice, had walked past without a shirt on. He was tugging a small wheeled cart loaded with stones, and Edward’s eyes remained glued to the young man’s body the entire length of the street. The way the muscles of his arms were taut under the strain of the cart. The glossy sheen of sweat covering his back. The way his hair, cropped close to his skull, glistened like molasses.

Something bubbled in Edward’s lower stomach.

He knew what this was. What he was.

– X –

With the ointment applied to every inch of Richie’s inflamed, oozing skin, all they could do was wait. Eddie busied himself cleaning the tools he had used to brew the ointment, as well as carefully replacing the vial of quicksilver into the book where he found it. He hoped that Paracelsus would not notice that it was missing several inches of glittering liquid. Richard is snoring loudly in the corner of the room, body entirely covered in a thin white sheet, with the intention of insulating his body to stimulate the ointment. Still staring at the snoring stranger, Edward absently picked up the glass bottle that had previously contained the quicksilver ointment.

He dropped it.

The bottle splintered into hundreds of tiny glass shards, and Edward flinched, expecting the ointment to have oozed all over the wooden floor.

It hadn’t.

What lay on the floor was a smooth, smallish round lump of what appeared to be solid gold.

Breath clogging his throat like wool, Edward bent down and picked up the small round object. It was entirely solid, and when he tried to crush it in his fist, it didn’t change shape.

Gold.

Edward had created gold.

He hadn’t meant to, of course. It had been a fortunate accident, and should Paracelsus, or indeed anyone, have asked him to re-create this feat he’d be unable. Nevertheless, he had done it. Gold from quicksilver. The ultimate aim of the spagyric art. He had done it.

Richard coughed, and Edward dropped the ball of gold. It rolls under the table.

Suddenly remembering how the gold had come into existence, Edward scrabbled over the vases and pots on the floor until he was standing directly over Richard, who, thankfully, looked normal. He was breathing, the steady, rhythmic puffs of air providing the only sound in the room. His face was somewhat dirty, but otherwise exactly the same as it had been when he’d first come into the workshop.

With shaking fingers, and shaking breath, Edward picked up the corner of the white sheet between his thumb and forefinger, and pulled it back gingerly.

The shriek that clawed its way out of Edward’s mouth practically shook the walls of the workshop.

Richard’s body was entirely covered in small crescent shaped gold marks. Where there had been angry red welts, there were now perfectly even, perfectly repeated gold crescents and Richard’s body was absolutely littered with them. Richard sat up with a start, pressing both hands onto the straw mattress, and suddenly, without warning, Richard was sitting on a solid block of … Gold. It was as if the mattress had always been gold. There was no evidence to suggest that this obscenely large golden cube had ever been made of cloth and straw.

“What – What on Earth … Edward? Edward, what is going on?” Richie demanded, voice quivering as he stood up gingerly.

Edward couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t claw his eyes away from the solid gold mass on the floor and the young man stood in front of it, body shining like an angel.

Richard didn’t appear to notice that he was covered in small golden marks, and Edward couldn’t open his mouth to tell him.

“How … How did you do this? Turn the bed into … gold? The bed is … solid gold? Mercy God, Edward, who are you?”

“Your – your arm, Richard, look at your arm”

“My arm? Never mind my damn arm, look at the – by God’s blood, what has happened to me? What have you done to me?”

Richard was now staring at the gold marks on his arm, face stricken with horror. Edward immediately decided that he’d have to delay Richard, just long enough that so he’d still be here when Paracelsus returned. Paracelsus would know what to do, he’d be able to fix this … whatever this was.

“Richard, you must – you must wait until the alchemist gets back. He will not be long, he is just in the next town. He’ll know what to do, what has happened to – to you. Please sit, please, Richard, I do not want you to panic, I –“

“Hell’s breath! You don’t want me to panic? Pray tell, how am I not to panic when I am covered in these … marks? What have you done? Cursed me? Is this a curse, for – for being a sodomite? You did not have to curse me, vile witch, just refuse to treat me and let me die in a heap like I should have done”

“No!” Edward cried, a hoarse, harsh sound that echoed around the room angrily, “That could not be further from the truth, Richard – Rich, please. Wait, sit. The alchemist will be back soon and he can help you”

Richard grabbed the broom that was lying against the wall of the workshop, and attempted to wield it like a weapon – to protect himself from whatever he assumed Edward was going to do to him. What actually happened, though, was as soon as Richard picked up the broom, it immediately turned to solid gold. Wooden handle, horse hair bristles and all. Completely, and perfectly, rendered in solid gold.

Richard screamed, and dropped the golden broom on the floor, where it landed with a loud clatter.

“By God’s bones, what have you done! You have turned me into some sort of … demon! Stay back, stay back or I’ll send you crawling back to hell, I’ll – I’ll … !”

Before he could finish his sentence, Richard Tozier, cradling his hands against his chest, ran out of the workshop.

– X –

Midas.

The name shot into Eddie’s head like a cannon ball, fast and painful and … Oh.

Midas.

Edward was scrabbling for the copy of pagan mythology on the top shelf of Paracelsus’ bookshelf when he alchemist walked back in.

“Edward? What in God’s name are you doing?”

“HELL!” Edward cried, toppling to the ground from where he was perched on the edge of a bench, the book of pagan mythology clasped tight in his hands.

Paracelsus rolled his eyes fondly, before striding over to where his apprentice was sprawled on the floor. Edward gratefully accepted his extended hand, and Paracelsus hauled him to his feet.

“Care to tell me what required this book so urgently, Eddie?”

Edward had no idea where to start.

Luckily, before he had a chance to speak, Paracelsus noticed the rather inconspicuous golden bed in the corner of the room. The mattress that had once been straw and thread-bear cloth.

“Edward,” Paracelsus said reverently, “Did you … Did you do this?”

“Yes” Edward replied, miserably.

“How?”

“Someone came in while you were out and they – they had the pox and they were so desperate for me to cure them and – and I … I did”

“That doesn’t tell me how the mattress became golden, Edward”

“I couldn’t find any quicksilver at first, but then I remembered the vial you were keeping in the manuscript you’ve been working on, so I … I took that and I … “

“You used … the quicksilver I’ve been keeping in this book?” Paracelsus exclaimed, holding up the leather-bound manuscript. The little vial of quicksilver that Eddie had used rolled out, landing on the table below. It stared up at him.

“Yes”

“Oh, Child… do you know what this is?”

“Quicksilver?”

“This,” Paracelsus held up the vial and shook it slightly in Edward’s face, “This is not just quicksilver. This is the most potent, most volatile form of mercury possible. It will turn almost any base metal to gold. And now, it appears, even materials that are not metal to gold. What happened to the patient, I assume they died? What did you do with the body?”

“Well –”

“And you really must be more careful, Edward. You must have spilt a very large amount of the ointment for the mattress to entirely turn to gold like this”

“Sir!”

“Yes?”

“They didn’t die”

“They didn’t?”

“No and I … I didn’t spill any of the ointment”

“You must have, for how else would …. Oh. Oh, Edward. What have you done?”

Paracelsus ripped the pagan mythology book out of Edward’s trembling hands, and thumped it down on the table. The alchemist flicked to the relevant page, and began scanning the Latin.

Midas, King of Phygia, was unsatisfied. He had riches untold, a great castle, and a beautiful daughter. Despite all this, he still wanted more. More wealth, more gold, more jewels. Midas would spend his days counting his gold, ensuring it was all still there. His greatest love, his greatest passion, his reason for living, all gold.

One day, Dionysus, God of revelry, was travelling through Midas’ kingdom. One of his fellows, Silenus, took a nap in Midas’ rose gardens, unaware that the King took early morning walks in the garden. Sure enough, the King found Silenus, and invited him in to feast at the castle. After the feast, Midas took Silenus back to Dionysus, who was so grateful for the safe return of his friend, he promised to fulfil Midas’ greatest wish. Immediately, Midas decided that he desired everything he touched to become gold. Dionysus pleased with the King to think about the consequences of his wish, but the King demanded that his wish be fulfilled. Dionysus resigned, and promised that from the next day, everything that Midas touched would turn to gold.

“So?” Edward fretted, “What does it say?”

“I think, my dear boy, you gave this patient the Midas touch”

“I swear on my own life that it was an accident”

“I know, I know. Without being needlessly cruel, Edward, you are not skilled enough to have done this on purpose”

“What happened then?”

“I fear that … I fear that someone, or something … intervened”

Edward started to panic.

“What do you mean, something?”

Paracelsus clicked his tongue, a well-practiced indication that Edward was not to push his mentor.

“Do not let that concern you, child. You let that concern me. Now, who was this patient?”

“His name was Richard”

“Richard? It wasn’t the Tozier’s boy, was it?”

“I’m not sure sir. He had wild curly hair and squinted a lot, if that sounds familiar? He also had a rather … peculiar sense of humour”

“Ah. Has to have been the Tozier lad. Now, Edward, what I need you to do is go and pay a visit to the Tozier’s and ask Richard to come back to visit me. I’ll have to – I’ll have to try and cure him, I suppose”

“Only try?”

“Well, as much as I am the greatest alchemist this side of Europe, I cannot perform miracles. Now, go and get the boy and I’ll try and correct your mistake.”

“But –”

“Go! Before I chase you out with –“ Paracelsus reached for the broom that was stood behind the door, “This rather magnificent golden broom. Shoo!”

Edward ran.

#eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak #long reads #alchemy AU #medieval AU #itfandomprompts #it fandom prompt week 2019 #TW: Slur = this fic uses the word 'sodomite' twice #so pls be careful if that word triggers you

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scurvgirl · 7 years ago

Text

And The Dragon Met A Princess

More Fairy Tale AU!

Map and World Building

Adannar does not enjoy lying. He’s not particularly good at it either, which just contributes to his distaste for it. But he also knows that he needs to protect himself and sometimes that means lying, even to guests in his territory. From what Adannar can tell, Serahlin isn’t ready to hear that what she’s probably been told about his kind is mostly incorrect. She’s not ready to accept that Adannar is a dragon and poses no real threat to her or her people. She won’t believe the truth, so what difference does a lie make?

He returns home feeling wonderful despite the lies. It has been so long since he’s had someone new to talk to. But then appears Serahlin, in her torn robes and her need to hide from whatever she is fleeing. And he is happy to give her shelter! His little creatures will also be useful in monitoring whatever comes in to make sure she’s safe. Not that he knows what she’s running from, but still, he will make the effort.

He hasn’t felt this good in a long time. A lovely energy fills him, and he spends it cleaning his workshop. He gets only a portion through cleaning before collapsing onto a different pile of pillows and blankets, his energy leaving him in a rush. Still, he’s happy to have accomplished even a small piece. His sleeping mind is less aware of the Dreaming this time, truly asleep and unaware, just…drifting through the Dreaming like he ought to be.

When he wakes, it is to a golden sun rising above the mountains. There are birds chirping and the whir of his creations to greet him. Dragons don’t really smile, mostly for aesthetic reasons and it never quite feels like smiling to bare teeth this large. But if dragons did smile, he would.

He digs into his stash of food and chomps down on cured meats. He rather dislikes eating as an elf, he never feels…full. He thinks the size equivalent would be to be starving as an elf and only enthusiastically given crumbs. Crumbs. He is not the biggest dragon, but he is big enough to need a full-grown deer in the morning, and a one of the large mollusks in the nearby ocean in the evening, supplemented with snacks through the day. He once ate an entire cheese wheel which is apparently even a bad idea for a dragon.

After eating his fill, he packs up a basket full of breakfast items. Then he takes to the sky and flies toward the small cottage west of his mountain. Flying after eating may not be the smartest thing, but there is a lot to do today, lots to teach and show her if he is going to help her successfully live away from her old life. And he wants to help, he realizes.

He lands in a grove close to her cottage, but far enough away for her to not see him transform. She doesn’t…she’s not ready for that piece of her world to come crashing down.

What do you mean dragons aren’t evil fire-breathing creatures bent on stealing beautiful people and doing terrible things to them?

Oh yes, Serahlin, dragons are quite nice, we enjoy chess more than raping and pillaging. Well, most. There are some who are vile, but that’s how it is for elves. I don’t judge your entire race on the dragon slayers who spread false propaganda about my people, so please don’t judge my entire people on a few bad eggs.

He snorts to himself. Bad eggs! Like how some hatch!

Back in his elf form, he shrugs a different robe closer to himself. It’s russet colored, to compliment the gold in his hair. He feels like it’s only right to look nice for proper ladies like Serahlin.

He should bring her more clothes, she looks like she enjoys clothes, fine ones. He can understand that, she is radiantly beautiful and anything that touches her ought to be just as stunning. It’s only right.

The forest is beautiful this morning, the leaves are perking up in the early sun, drops of dew melting off the grass. Is it always this beautiful this early? He can’t remember the last time he was up so soon.

The cottage is as he left it, peaceful. The horse she rode here is still tied to that tree, all the grass pulled up around him. Poor thing must be hungry. Carefully, Adannar approaches him, unties him, and guides him to a lush spot where there’s grass, a bush, and a tree to nibble on. There are certain perks to being a dragon, especially when you’ve lived in one region for so long. The territory begins to react to you and your magic. All he has to do to replenish the grass the horse has eaten is wave a hand and encourage life to grow and little grass spouts rise to poke out of the dirt.

The window on the second story of the cottage opens and a familiar face pokes out of it, sleep still on her face. She rubs at her face then squints down at him.

“Adannar?”

“Good morning, Serahlin!” He calls up to her. She leans on the window sill, her night’s braid, all frayed from sleep falling over her shoulder.

“Is there an enchantment on the house for good sleep?” She asks, voice all husky.

He chuckles, “No, but I am glad your sleep was good. I bring breakfast!” He raises the basket and she nods, gesturing for him to come inside. He waits several minutes before she descends from above wearing a cream-colored dress and forest green over-robe. Her hair is up in a high braided bun and he has to remember to think for a moment.

“The clothes you have are unlike anything I’ve seen, how did you come upon them?” She asks.

Oh. The clothes are out of date, which he should have expected, he hasn’t done anything with the wardrobe in…many, many years. He swallows and shrugs.

“I made some of them, many were…found. This forest is large and home to many ruins, magical ruins that tend to preserve old remnants, like these clothes.” Not a complete lie. There are many ruins. There is the Glass Tower to the north and the Glade Keep ruins east of that. And south of Adannar’s mountain is ruin by the sea where wyverns like to live.

Serahlin glances down at her clothes then back up at Adannar, “These are…vintage?”

“You do them lovely justice. Clothes want to be worn, especially finery like this. They are well made, simply as you said, vintage.”

She raises a brow at him, skeptical for a moment before smiling small.

“You are right, clothes like to be worn, and there is no court to judge what I am wearing. So, what is for breakfast?” They make their way to the table close to the small kitchen. He places the basket on the table and removes bread, a grapefruit, and a couple of eggs along with a pan.

“I can cook up the eggs while you eat what you like of the bread and fruit,” he offers. She nods while he moves to the fire and begins to fry the eggs. He is no chef, but he can fry a mean over medium egg. In minutes, he’s back at the table, sliding the eggs onto her plate and fishing a fork out of the basket.

“Why are you being so kind to me?” She asks softly after a moment of staring at the eggs.

Adannar blinks and smiles, “People ought to be kind to other people, don’t you think?” The kingdom to the west must be so cold for her to not expect basic kindness from a stranger. Though…this may not be basic, he is bringing her breakfast and making her cottage livable. But still, she doesn’t expect kindness, he can see it in her hesitations and small puffs of surprise every time he does something for her.

“I do think that, yes, but it is so rarely taken to heart so truly as you have done. I am grateful, so very grateful, I am merely surprised at how freely the kindness is given. Unless, it’s not free,” she says the last bit on a worried note, her brows crinkling slightly in the middle.

“Free! Yes, free. I am kind to you because it is the right thing to do, because I want to be. And you are free to refuse anything I offer.” He pulls his hands into his lap and tries to make himself smaller, less intimidating. He really doesn’t know if his size is considered intimidating for elves. He hopes it isn’t intimidating at least, he’s taller than Serahlin, broader too. He knows he’s not small, but he’s seen other elves, mostly dragon slayers, who have been bigger, he thinks, than his elven form. But the point is that he doesn’t want her to feel intimidated to accept anything he offers.

Serahlin tilts her head and looks down at the fried eggs. She takes a fork and begins to eat, neat as she was yesterday.

“These are delicious, thank you. Please help yourself as well!” She pushes the basket towards him and he…should eat something, to be polite. He cuts the grapefruit in half and uses one of those little serrated spoons and slowly works on half of the grapefruit. It is very citrusy, and it tickles his tongue, makes his lips thing, but it’s tasty, just…small.

Serahlin seems to be enjoying the food, which is more important anyways. When she finishes her breakfast, he suggests teaching her how to look for foods around the cottage. They gather berries and he shows her how to catch a rabbit. They cook the hare for lunch and in the afternoon, he decides to build a chicken coop for her. He explains the processes of building it and she surprises him by rolling up her sleeves and helping him build the coop, or at least the frame. Her soft hands are not strong or gifted with the craft, but she is tenacious and determined. He is gentle with his instruction, showing her how to tie the ends up together, how to drive nails into the wood so that the wood doesn’t splinter.

It won’t be ready for chickens for two more days, he estimates, but it’s a good start. He chops some wood for her and she insists on watching to learn. Her determination to be self sufficient is admirable, and she is a quick learner! He has her hold the axe to feel the weight, and he even has her swing it a couple of times.

By the end of the day, she is so tired she flops with an uncharacteristic lack of grace onto the sofa. Her bun is askew, her dress and over robe are dirt smeared and her hands are red and cut from the day’s work. But she never complained; a noble woman who probably has not done any of what she did today, didn’t complain, even with her raw, blistered hands.

Adannar kneels before her and gently takes her hands in his. He sucks in a breath and exhales slowly, letting his healing magic fall over her hands, healing them. She looks down at him, sweet shock on her face.

“You know healing magic?”

He smiles and nods, folding her hands back into her lap, “I make those creatures and in order to do that I need to have at least some knowledge in healing. There will probably be lingering soreness but the blisters and the scrapes I can heal.”

She pauses for a long time, her expression inscrutable before she looks down at her hands, “All day I have been working to learn from you to be independent. And yet at the end of the day, here you are, doing everything for me.”

He blinks, trying to understand, “You are learning. When…when you were a little baby, your parents did all the talking and while they did that, you learned, and eventually you learned how to talk as well. Learning takes time, and I am happy to teach.” If he sounds odd, it’s the desperation. He wants her to stay, but he doesn’t want to guilt her, so he doesn’t say that if he wasn’t here teaching her how to do all these things, he’d be in his workshop, alone.

Her expression turns soft and her cheeks turn pink. He stands up and sets about getting her supper ready. He’s beginning to hunger himself, spending the day shifted and doing manual labor has exhausted him past what he is used to. His creatures had brought a basket full of food earlier for her supper, all it needs is to be warmed and it will be ready. The chicken is set to warm over the fire, next to the kettle which he takes off to make some calming tea.

Once, this wouldn’t be so unusual. Scholars and draconologists would come by and sit with him, speak with him on all sorts of matters. He’d cook for them, sometimes even as a dragon. Once upon a time, he wasn’t so lonely, and maybe he won’t be, not if Serahlin is here. Or at least…he won’t be lonely for at least a little bit. And he’ll make sure to enjoy her company, even if it’s temporary.

When he returns to her to give her the tea, she’s slumped over the edge of the sofa, sound asleep. It seems that she doesn’t need the tea, after all.

Adannar sets the tea aside and takes her carefully into his arms. She shifts some, a sleepy “what?” floating up from her lips but he urges her back to sleep as he carries her upstairs and lays her in the bed. He cleans up and returns to his lair, happier than he has felt in decades.

Serahlin doesn’t remember how she got to bed. The last thing she remembers is…Adannar’s smile and the world fading into the Dreaming. She drifted away, exhausted from the day’s activities. Her body aches from the work, but it’s good. In the palace, things like food and warmth were always taken care of for her. She never had to work for those things like most people in the kingdom. It separated her from them and it made her dependent on the staff of the castle.

But still, she doesn’t remember getting into bed. Which means that she was taken to bed, and there is only one person who could have taken her to bed. It may be an irrational fear, but she runs her hands over her body and clothes, checking. Nothing is amiss, and her heart settles. She ought to know better, falling asleep in odd places at the palace was never wise. There were mother’s spies, untrusted diplomats and guards…any number of people who would love to see her…removed disgracefully through equally disgraceful and wrong means.

But Adannar is nothing like the people in the palace. He is kind, warm, the kind of man who breathes magic on her hands and heals them because he doesn’t want her to hurt.

She rises from her bed and brushes out her hair…to find it greasy and disgusting. Oh what she would give for a bath.

Her thoughts must have summoned him, because Serahlin hears the rustling she heard yesterday morning. She pokes her head outside the window to see him standing below, wreathed in the glow of the morning sun.

“Good morning!” He calls.

“Good morning, to you as well. I don’t suppose you have a place where I can bathe?”

He startles and nods quickly, “I am so sorry! How remiss of me to forget something so vital. Yes, of course. There is a room on the side of the cottage, at the back, I’ll have it filled with a tub and water for you quickly!”

“Oh if there is a well or a pump or something, you can show me how to do it, I don’t want to put you out,” she says. He waves her off and she can see his broad smile even from her position and sleepy eyes.

“Don’t worry! But if you are interested, I will show you how to use the well.” She smiles down at him before closing the window and putting her hair up, so he doesn’t see how awful it is. Unfortunately, she has no perfumes to disguise the smell most likely emanating from her, how embarrassing.

She goes downstairs and outside, joining Adannar by the side of the cottage. He has a bucket in one hand, the other gestures for her to follow him. The well is around the back of the cottage, behind a shrubbery that Adannar contemplates.

“This was not here the last time I was here,” he says, holding a hand out to the plant. It’s a prickly green…thing. Plants were never something that captured her interest, but he seems very interested in this seemingly plain shrub.

“The well, Adannar? The shrub can be removed later.”

“What? Remove it? No, no need, I was just…sometimes I get caught up. The well! Right, it’s here.” They move around the bush to the well. He attaches the bucket to a hook, then pulls on the ropes, lowering the bucket down. She hears a splash and then Adannar is tugging the rope in the opposite direction. His sleeves fall back, revealing his arms. Muscular arms. She doesn’t know why she wouldn’t have expected that, just…his robes are very billowy and obscure his form, so unlike the clothing she is accustomed to.

Thankfully, the blush is faint and quick and she helps him bring the full bucket over the edge of the well, hauling it back to the cottage. He leads her into a side room only accessible from the outside where an iron tub waits. They empty the bucket, then return to the well.

It takes several trips to fill the tub to a sufficient height, and she makes one last trip to have a spare bucket for washing her hair. A mechanical heron flies down and hands her a basket full of bathing oils and soaps, all beautifully, if subtly, scented.

Adannar runs his hand across the face of the tub, activating a warming rune. In minutes, steam rises from the tub and Adannar leaves her to the bath.

When she steps into the old tub, she sighs. It seems no matter what the tub is made from, or how the water was gathered, or who drew the bath, baths are and always be wonderful things. The tension is slowly worked out of her body as the heat sinks into her.

Serahlin lingers in the bath, luxuriating in it. She washes her hair and feels immediate relief. When she leaves the bath, most likely more than an hour later, she is scrubbed almost raw, but she is radiant and clean.

She dons the yellow dress in the wardrobe, and lets her hair hang low and wet, but she doesn’t care. For the first time in…ever, she doesn’t care. Adannar’s smile is just as broad, just as happy to see her, face reddened from the steam and the soap, hair undone, and who knows how fashionable this dress is.

“You look much happier!”

“I feel much better, thank you. Where did you get those soaps and oils?”

He blushes and shrugs, “I have many hobbies.”

“Your hobbies are very useful, though I suppose necessity breeds a willingness to do. They were very nice, thank you.”

He inclines his head before gesturing to the table, where there is a spread of food. He seems intent on feeding her again, it seems. Though she’s not complaining by ay means! He is being so good, so good that she almost wants him to stop because she feels terrible. Terrible for being so useless and dependent on his hospitality and knowledge. Back home, it would be expected she would at the very least pay him, but she’s not back at home and she doesn’t have any money so…she feels terrible instead.

They eat breakfast, or rather brunch by this point, together then head back out into the woods. He has her hold a bow and sets up targets on trees. Finally, something she has some familiarity with! She had lessons as a girl, basic archery lessons along with basic swordplay. But even with her basic archery skills, she doesn’t hit the targets straight on, she’s off and it requires gentle correcting on Adannar’s part.

After archery lessons come foraging lessons. He directs her to what appears to be remnants of an old apple orchard, now overgrown with other trees. They’re ungroomed, and the apples are ripe for picking, so they pick many.

The basket is filled with mostly apples by afternoon, so they return back to the cottage. She eats an apple while Adannar prepares the chicken the chicken they were going to eat last night.

“We should finish the chicken coup tomorrow, and then I can bring chickens! They’re a little smelly, fair warning,” he says, bringing her a plate.

She chuckles, “The wood is smellier than what I am accustomed to, I will adjust to the chickens.”

“I am glad that you are adjusting, and so gracefully as well.”

“I see no point in making a fuss about doing things that must be done. I am here, I must learn how to survive, expecting it to be like…like where I am from is irrational and impractical.” She enjoys frivolity, a good bit of it, but she is not without rational thought and an extreme appreciation for practical things. Elvara was always the one complaining about learning even some basics, like self-defense swordplay and the little bit of archery instruction they received. She was such a frivolous, self-centered, oblivious person. And despite everything, Serahlin misses her, misses her assertions that everything would turn out well because it had to. It was blind optimism fueled by self-centric thinking, but sometimes it helped. Serahlin would get caught in the details, Elvara was more of a big picture person, happy to leave the details to people who actually cared about them.

Elvara would not have survived this, but is she surviving the palace right now? Everything Serahlin learned was in the details, all the hints to what was going on…. But maybe it was her knowledge that put a target on her back to begin with, and maybe Elvara’s obliviousness can keep her safe enough to survive. How long can that keep her alive though?

How long can Serahlin stay here and run from the storm? How can she return with…nothing but herself? It’s not enough, she’s lucky to be alive at all.

“Serahlin? Is everything all right?” Adannar’s voice rouses her from her thoughts and she blink away the memories of her sister and the palace. And the knight.

“Oh, yes, my apologies. My mind wandered for a moment.” She reaches for the wine and takes a generous sip. Adannar’s expression softens.

“I understand, I am prone to that as well. Do you wish to talk about whatever is on your mind?” His tone is soft, understanding, and yet the question is direct.

She shakes her head slightly, “No, but thank you for your concern. I…I think I am going to retire for the evening, thank you for everything,” she says, rising from the table. Adannar nods and stands with her.

“Good night, I hope your thoughts turn for the better,” he says, cheerful, happy even, as he packs up the remains of dinner. She walks him out and bids him a good night before walking upstairs and changing into her night clothes.

Elvara is only three years younger than her. It’s an unheard-of age difference, most are only allowed to have multiple children after waiting…almost an entire century. But no, their mother decided that she wanted another baby, little Serahlin was…well, she wanted another baby, so she had one. It was a ridiculous abuse of power and prestige. Many believed it would either bring Serahlin and Elvara closer, or it would tear them apart.

Judging by where Serahlin is now, she’d say it’s the latter.

#fairy tale au #serahlin #adannar #serannar #fic #my writing

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fuggmuff · 2 years ago

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Yes, I will share this information with you. I'm tempted to be guarded and provincial about this but it would be a crime of petty selfishness to keep it to myself. Also, it's a great way to eat healthy for cheap and make something that you can eat on for a while. I've been making one soup a week and it can last for every meal for like five or six days.

- 1 box of mushroom broth and 1 box of beef broth. Yes, the entire box. Of both. I added in some chicken broth to this one to bring the level up some. Be sure to get broth with reduced sodium and no corn syrup because A) there's enough sodium in this as there is and B) corn syrup will defeat the entire point of trying to eat healthy and clean.

- 3 whole carrots. Flay them of their skin.

- 1 whole yellow onion. Not white. Not fucking sweet. Yellow. Use the entire thing but cut off the grotesque knot of dirty tentacles on either end.

- 1 whole bundle of celery. As stated above, celery is a pointless vegetable, so much so that it borders on offensive, but in a soup it soaks in the flavor of the broth and adds the tiniest bit of that weird, peppery tang that is celery's only defining characteristic, aside from being irrelevant.

- 3 yellow/yukon potatoes. Do NOT use russet potatoes. They have their place and it isn't here. Yukons are perennially overlooked and criminally underrated. Also be careful how long you cook them. Too long and they disintegrate and thicken up the broth. This is, I must say, absolutely delicious in it's own right, but it depends on how thick and starchy you want the liquid.

- Any ground meat will suffice. I made it with yak meat last time because apparently that'a a thing but this time I went with lamb. I added in some pork sausage which ended up being even better.

- Spices. This is important. Don't be shy about it. Dump it in. Just fucking go wild. You can never have too much garlic. Never. And every spice has it's part to play. Garlic is critical. Paprika? A must have. Oregano? Literally made this stew what it was and I added it by accident. And most importantly, just a big pinch of this shit:

If you don't have this in your pantry, do yourself a favor and get it. Go on Amazon right now and buy a massive tub of it. Don't make excuses - you need this in your life. It will change your kitchen. Sprinkle this on anything. I assume Chef Prudhomme's magic is crack cocaine or something because you will be putting this in everything you make. But especially dust this on some fries before you air fry them. Thank me later.

Lastly, get a big sourdough loaf from a bakery. It can be the Wal-Mart bakery if no where else is available, but don't buy it from somewhere that isn't making it fresh. It'll last a while and sourdough is just about the only type of white bread that's actually good for you. It's also delicious.

Oh, and it's easy as hell to make. The most effort you expend is cooking the meat in a seperate pan (use butter without seed oils like canola to cook it, and it creates a grease that has natural fats in it that can be added to the soup if you want). The rest is just chopping shit up and dumping it into the boiling brew. It makes you feel like a witch, or perhaps an alchemist. You are making alchemical gold here, in a way.

Optional step that makes it more fun - an entire bottle of wine. It doesn't have to be fancy. I like to go to Trader Joe's and get most of these ingredients anyways and they have that 2 dollar sauv blanc that's just as good as anything else. For two dollars, it really can't be beat. It's for the economical drunk. As I said, entirely optional, but the extra flourish of getting wasted and handling scalding hot liquids is a pleasure unique to itself. I burned the shit out of the knuckle of my middle finger and it still smarts even now, but all I can think of is how good that fucking soup is and how much I'm looking forward to a bowl of it when I get home for lunch since it's rainy and dark out and a good, warm soup and bread sounds like something I'd commit a war crime for.

Anyways, that's how I made this soup/stew. Cheap, healthy, and it lasts for a while. Oh, and I almost forget the most important ingredient -

Having fun!

Soup is a love language. Stew is a love language. No dish is more personal than a good soup or stew. Something about slicing up all the ingredients and just chucking them in this big, boiling pot of broth that already smells so good you'd go to war from it... ephemeral. Enlightening. Truly otherworldly and enlighting. You feel like a god stirring that broth. Watching the mushrooms and onions slowly get softer and more palatable. Celery is an absolute dog water vegetable but you put it into a soup or stew? It's the MVP.

This is a long ass way of saying I made this soup that is a 100% cerified panty dropper and I have no beloved to give a bowl of while we drink hard liquor and smoke a cigarette or two on the balcony. The same one, of course. Cigarettes suck but there's a romance to sharing one with someone who's only passing through your life. And it all ties in to one fucking delicious soup.

Hint: I dumped nearly an entire bottle of oregano in on accident but the strong oregano kick? Fucking divine. That and paprika.

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theblessed-unrest · 5 years ago

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Vegetarian Recipes I 💖

I’m starting a new thread for #Gabcooks because during my 6-month exchange in Vancouver, I’ve developed a passion for food and appreciation beyond simply the end product on my plate. There’s just something about being in the fields, plucking out fruit from the land, food compost being a common sight and feeling the vulnerability and fragility of fresh produce that makes you want to whip up the best meals you can with what you have and to demand the same from places you dine at. It makes me think, perhaps this is why there is a dearth of excellent, world-class food places in Singapore, apart from hawker food - where then again, the best places are usually run by older folks (who I hypothesise had more interaction with their food before they were turned into food?) Millennials these days keep opening cafes with eye-roll inducing, run-off-the-mill menus. (Did someone say avocado toast with eggs benedict? I swear, if someone says describes a cafe as “insta-worthy” again I will wring them dry...)

Food security is something many developed countries have began to take for granted and you can see this from the amount of food wasted in these countries. Research by the Food and Agriculture Organisation of the United Nations (FAO) has shown that food waste by consumers is more common in high-income countries (FAO, 2019). Especially in urbanised settings like Singapore (which generated 763,100 tonnes of food waste in 2018), where many have not even stepped into a farm their entire lives, Wendell Berry’s word never rang truer. He writes that “cultural amnesia” regarding the origins of our food is rampant. Not only does food waste have negative environmental impacts (GHGs, carbon/land/water footprints), but it just seems like a really dumb problem to have by virtue of how easy the solution is: basically to estimate rightly and buy the right amount of food you need. Everyone benefits because you save money while not having to go out of your way to save the environment.

Regarding this point, I found the figures interesting for the main food groups and their associated contribution to carbon/land/water footprints. In this regard, all food groups (not just meat and animal products!) can equally contribute to food waste, so this applies to even vegans/vegetarians. The bottomline is, no matter what you eat, don’t waste it.

(Source: FAO, 2019)

But cutting out food waste is just one part of the equation. We need to do more.

I can’t commit to veganism just yet, but here’s my hot take: I think the world will benefit with majority of people incorporating more eco-friendly and zero waste lifestyle habits (imperfectly) rather than a few people practicing through and through veganism. So I guess I am a “Reducetarian” in a sense. Multiple resources have pointed to reduction of meat intake as the essential to avoiding a climate crisis, with a recent study by Oxford showing that just going vegan for two-thirds of your meals can cut down food-related GHG emissions by 60%! And of course, eating less red meat is good for your health.

As for me, apart from when I’m out with my friends or eating what my mum/helper cooks at home, I will try to get vegetarian food for myself (usually at a mixed rice store). Quoting Wendell Berry again, I too believe that “eating is an agricultural act” and a critical way we can take action to fight climate change (since eating is something we inevitably do every few hours each day).

Many of my friends didn’t believe I could survive on a vegetarian diet on the weekdays when I was in Vancouver, and ask me what I eat then: beans??? (Short answer: no, I believe only 10% of my diet were beans as seen below) So here are some recipes to start with that can help you transition into a plant-based diet while proving that you don’t necessarily sacrifice taste! (Another hot take: thinking that steak belongs in “fancy meal” category and a proof of culinary prowess is the lack of one’s imagination. Any fool, including this writer, can cook a good steak at home after a few tries.)

Recipes

(Source: Bon Appetit)

1. Parmesan-Roasted Cauliflower

I let my family and some friends try this for the first time when I came back and everyone had second/third/fourth helpings... I don’t know how to describe roasted cauliflowers apart from “life-changing”. You’ll never stir fry your cauliflowers again.

(Source: Bon Appetit)

2. Spaghetti Aglio e Olio with Lots of Kale

Super easy weeknight meal to make. Just remember not to hold back on the salt.

(Source: Bon Appetit)

3. Zucchini-Herb Fritters with Garlic Yoghurt

“It tastes like meat!” I rest my case. I had them with cold soba, sautéed swiss chard, julienned cucumber and occasionally, a poached egg. (Also, the garlic yoghurt dip is SO GOOD. I introduced my family to it recently and we’ve been making a new batch every week since.)

4. Wholesome Burrito Bowl

Inspired by a time where my roommate and I paid close to $10 for a burrito bowl in school. Never again. Also if you’re not sold yet, it has guac (!!)

(Source: My Gluten Free Guide)

5. Cheesy Potato Rosti

For 2 servings

Prep time: 10 mins

Cook time: 20 mins

Ingredients:

2 peeled potatoes (I used russets because they were on sale when I made this)

1 tbs olive oil

Salt and pepper

Lemon wedges (squeezed for serving)

Optional: garlic yoghurt (refer to BA’s Zucchini Fritters recipe)

Method:

1) Grate potatoes.

2) Take handfuls of your grated potato and squeeze it out over the sink to remove as much liquid as possible. (Life hack: put it in the fridge while you go and busy yourself with other things for half an hour or so to get it real dehydrated)

3) Heat oil in large frying pan over high heat. Season potato with salt and pepper and place half in pan, distributing it evenly to form a large circle. Press t down with the back of a spatula. Cook for 2 minutes, then turn down the heat to medium and cook for a further 3 minutes.

4) Place a plate upside down on top of the potato and carefully flip the frying pan so that the fried side of the rosti is facing upwards on the plate. Gently slide back into the pan and continue cooking for another 4-5 minutes, turning up the heat for the last minute or so to crisp up the base. Remove from pan. Repeat with remaining potato.

*Notes: You can add on whatever other ingredients you want! I recommend onions and mushrooms. They probably go well with poached eggs and other sautéed vegetables as well.

6. Baked Patatas Bravas with Egg

Inspired after having it at Como Taperia :’-) Make sure to watch the eggs!

7. Chana Masala

Seriously, the secret to good vegetarian food is the spices!! Great with naan.

8. Zucchini Loaf

Zucchini again?? Yes, I somehow managed to procure a hugeass zucchini. Story for another day. Basically kind of like a carrot cake situation but moister because zucchinis have higher water content.

(Source: Epicurious)

9. Burst Cherry Tomato Pasta

Super easy, tasty and fast dinner to whip up (without even having to crack open a jar of pasta sauce!)

10. Crispy Black Bean Tacos with Avocado and Feta

Another really fast, easy and satisfying meal to make. Especially if you have a masher. I use a fork :’’-)

11. Grilled Cheese Sourdough with Caramelised Onions and Scrambled Eggs

I had a phase (during finals) where I was basically exhausting all the possible permutations and combinations of meals you could make from sourdough, cheese and eggs. It was kind of a eureka moment when I thought of adding caramelised onions into your classic grilled cheese sandwich.

For 1 serving

Prep time: 10 mins

Cook time: 35 mins

Ingredients:

1 small onion, or half if large (chopped)

1 tablespoon unsalted butter (softened)

1/2 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon sherry vinegar (I used apple cider vinegar)

2 slices of sourdough (or any other bread of choice)

2 slices of cheddar (I mixed in some shredded parmesan as well)

1 large egg

Salt and pepper

Method:

1) Heat half tablespoon of unsalted butter in a large pan over medium heat. When butter is melted, add onions in and cook, stirring occasionally, until dark brown and caramelized, about 15 minutes. Add the vinegar, sugar and 2 tablespoons water, scrapping up any dark bits that have accumulated on the bottom of the pan. Continue to cook until all the liquid has evaporated. Transfer the onions to a bowl.

2) Butter 1 side of each bread slice. Lay 1 slice butter-side down onto pan on medium heat. Top with 1 slices of cheddar, parmesan, a dollop of the onions and 1 more slice of cheddar. Top with another slice of bread, butter-side up.

3) Cook until the cheese begins to melt and the bread is golden brown, 2 to 4 minutes. Flip and continue to cook until golden brown and the cheese is melted through, 2 to 4 minutes. Cut in half.

4) Crack egg into a medium bowl. Add salt and pepper. Whip eggs until completely homogenous and pale yellow in colour, about 30 seconds. Heat butter on pan over medium-low heat. (Can skip this step if your pan is non-stick) Add eggs and cook, undisturbed, until a thin layer of cooked egg appears around the edge of the skillet. Using a spatula and broad sweeping motions, push eggs all the way around the circumference of the skillet, then across the bottom. Continue to push eggs around and across skillet until fluffy and barely set, about 2 minutes; they should still look runny on top. Sprinkle with more pepper if desired. Serve immediately with grilled cheese sandwich.

(Source: Bon Appetit)

12. Spicy Kimchi Tofu Stew

A winter essential. Really comforting to have with rice.

13. Crispy Maple-Soy Glazed Tofu with Soba & Kimchi

A product of making do with whatever I had in the kitchen. Followed this recipe for the crispy maple-soy glazed tofu. Served it with chilled soba and kimchi straight from the fridge, topped with chopped green onions. Flavours actually went really well together.

14. Pumpkin Soup with Cheesy Garlic Bread

A fall essential. Made the cheesy garlic bread from scratch with sourdough, olive oil, minced garlic, green onions and shredded parmesan cheese.

15. Cream of Mushroom Soup with Cheesy Garlic Bread

It was a phase of soup + cheesy garlic bread. I can’t find the recipe I used though... But here’s Bon Appetit’s recipe.

16. Barlett Pear and Goat Cheese Toast

With some chopped roasted almonds and a drizzle of maple syrup, it’s a taste bomb.

17. Cheese-Stuffed Bell Peppers

Great finger food for a party!

18. Baked Eggs with Mushrooms, Cherry tomatoes and Spinach + Toast

Zero cooking needed. Just chop up the ingredients and stick them in the oven (together with some slices of bread for maximum efficiency). Great for lazy dinners or a late night snack.

(Source: Bon Appetit)

19. Pumpkin Loaf with Salted Maple Butter

Loaves are my favourite thing to bake now. I love the flavours in this one - it has fresh ginger!! There’s also very little effort required for maximal output. I can have them for breakfast, snacks and dessert. And they freeze well so future you will thank you too.

#gabcooks #personal #bon appetit #vegetarian #reducetarian #healthy #recipes #cooking #testkitchen

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frompantomouth · 5 years ago

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Trattoria Stefano - Sheboygan, WI

Overall: A-

Bread and Olive Oil

Pollo al Tartufo - Crispy roasted semi-boneless half chicken smothered with black truffle mushroom butter and light chicken stock pan sauce. With sautéed green and yellow beans in garlic and shallot and smoked lardo potatoes

After many great experiences at Stefano’s offshoot Il Ritrovo, I felt that I needed to try the parent restaurant itself. Walking in, I was surprised to see a framed document on the wall recognizing Stefano’s being a Semifinalist for the 2018 James Beard Best Chef of the Midwest. I was both surprised that anywhere in Sheboygan made it to the semifinals and surprised that I’d somehow never heard about it. That being said, the nomination certainly helped to reinforce and formalize what praise of Stefano’s I’d heard before.

The meal started with the same bread as at Il Ritrovo. While the bread itself is very good, I find it very strange how it is served somewhat cool and how the olive oil that’s available to dip it in is in what is essentially a dasher bottle that cannot actually be poured from at both Stefano’s and Il Ritrovo. Regardless, tasty.

For my main course, I tried to balance ordering something interesting (ie not bolognese) with being somewhat cost-conscious as this was a spontaneous Thursday evening trip. The Pollo al Tartufo perfectly fit the bill. Upon arrival, I have to admit, it looked pretty monotone and drab. Yes, yes “brown is flavor”, but this was certainly not built for Instragram. However, that’s pretty much the only demerit I can offer. This dish was exceptional. The beans were were very garlicy and crisp without being at all tough. Mixed in with them were also some bright, umami-heavy bits of tomato. The chicken was 8.5/10 on the juicy scale and 9.5/10 on the crispy skin scale, which is an A in my book. This not to mention the mouth wateringly delicious truffle butter and pan sauce that topped it. FLAVOR EXPLOSION!!! While perhaps a hair on the salty side, this sauce delivered on every bite while making you to come back for more. This is getting into that territory of foods that dance around in the back of my mind until they force me to learn how to cook them because I need to get my fix.

And then the potatoes, oh the potatoes. Some people may say “potatoes are meant to be fluffy! these are crap”. We will not listen to those people because they are clearly wrong and we will instead forcibly annex the potatoes from their plate. These were little nuggets of goodness. These potatoes were smashed and then cooked with smoked lardo. The lard gave them this incredible crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside texture. It also brought a deep, incredible savory flavor that was honestly the star of the dish. Similarly to the chicken, while I normally cook russet potatoes, these were inspirational and make me want to try new varieties and cook them as close to this was as possible.

I expected Stefano’s to be a great restaurant by Sheboygan standards. It proved to be a great restaurant by any standards.

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laurencialaboriqua · 7 years ago

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a very descriptive and detailed profile of your muse. REPOST WITH THE INFORMATION OF YOUR MUSE, INCLUDING HEADCANONS, ETC. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own! when you’re done, tag 15 other people to do the same!

I was tagged by @duzmachines95 sometime at the beginning of this month, and I missed it like a doof. At least, I can’t recall doing this, so I’m doing it again (or for the first time. I don’t know.) Getting to it now!

—————————————————————————-

NAME. Laurencia Maria Alvarez. Likes to be called Laurie. AGE. Depends on her AU. She never goes younger than 18, and 18 is pushing it for me. SPECIES. Human. GENDER. Female ORIENTATION. Pan/Demisexual She’s also a huge flirt, and tends to be rather forward in her flirtations. PROFESSION. Nail technician, hairstylist. She’s an aspiring model and theatre actress. She went to school at NYU, and depending on the AU, she’s either still in college, or she’s finished it and has a BFA in musical theater.

—————————————————————

PHYSICAL ASPECTS.

BODY TYPE. Very short and petite, extremely curvy. Homegirl is all curves and booty. EYES. Light brown, almost hazel. Think milk caramel colored. HAIR. Russet brown, wavy, nearly to her hips. SKIN. Tan, think café con leche. HEIGHT. 5′0″ WEIGHT. 115 lbs

—————————————————————————-

FAMILY.

SPOUSE. Nope. CHILD(REN). Nope. SIBLINGS. She’s the youngest of seven children, and the only girl. In order of age, her brothers are: Marcelo - Heavyweight boxer, Usnavy - Nightclub bouncer, Ignacio - US Marine, Osmani - US Army officer, Pablo - MMA fighter, and Rogelio - Navy SEAL. All of them are very tall, and very muscular, like their father. Laurie is the only one that came out looking like her mother. PARENTS. Eugenio Alvarez (Father, former Marine, now works in construction), and Adriana Felicia Alvarez ANY PETS ? Depends on the AU. In some of them, she has a rescued pit bull named Ruby.

—————————————————————————-

SKILLS.

PHYSICAL PROWESS. Very graceful, skilled dancer. She doesn’t fight much more than to defend herself if she needs to, but is rather uncanny at finding discarded bits of pipe to use as an improvised weapon. Can run, and jump, in high heels. Granted, she often breaks the heels off of the shoe, but she can do it. SPEED. Pretty fast for a human, as she’s got leg muscles for days because of her dance training. She also goes for a run every morning. INTELLIGENCE. Slightly above average, though she wouldn’t believe it if you told her. She loves history and historical research.

—————————————————————————-

LIKES.

COLOURS. Purple, pink, red, lavender, grey SMELLS. Cafecito, roses, incense, old books. FOOD. Freshly baked bread, Puerto Rican foods, Korean food, Thai food, lots of vegetables. DRINKS. Fresh juice, cafecito, tea, water.

—————————————————————————-

OTHER DETAILS.

SMOKES ? Nope DRUGS ? Only the very occasional pot cookie every once in a while. Like, less often than once a month. She has to have a really bad day for her to reach for one of those. DRIVER LICENSE ? Yes, but only because her father made (begged, demanded) her get one. Not a bad driver, she just prefers to walk everywhere. EVER BEEN ARRESTED ? Oh yes. Twice, once for defending herself, and the second for beating the shit out of someone with a length of pipe who attacked her best friend. There’s a mug shot for the second arrest. She’s smiling in it.

—————————————————————————-

TAGGING: @pcsitivevines @southernblossoms @redcladrebel @donatelloinlove anyone else who wants to do this. <3

#OOC #meme #Tagged in this

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thevintagebluebird · 6 years ago

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Unpinned - Skillet Honey Garlic Chicken Thighs with Roast Potatoes (and Sauteed Broccoli Rabe)

Ha, and you guys thought the LAST title was long.

Hello all! Back at it again with the cookin’ and the eatin’ - this time around it’s the brilliant James and I, tackling some basics and making them TASTY - we’ve made some Skillet Honey Garlic Chicken Thighs with Roast Potatoes (and Sauteed Broccoli Rabe). Now, if you’re hardcore and not only read these silly cooking rants but also click on my gratuitous links, you’ll see that we actually did two recipes at once! Yeah, we’re badass like that.

Verdict: Is the Pintrest photo complete bullshit? - I mean yes; we did not mince parsley to sprinkle it on to our beautiful slate counter tops.

Is it crazy expensive/time consuming/confusing? - No! Honestly, the blanching of the broccoli rabe was probably the most difficult bit. And chicken thighs are silly cheap.

Does it taste good? YAS.

Skillet Honey Garlic Chicken Thighs with Roast Potatoes

Ingredients

4 medium chicken thighs, patted dry (about 1 lb)

Salt and pepper to taste

2 tablespoons butter, divided

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 medium onion, diced

1 lb russet potatoes, scrubbed and cut into 1-in cubes (about 4 medium potatoes)

4 cloves garlic, minced

1/4 cup honey

1/4 cup soy sauce

1 tablespoon white vinegar

2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley

Instructions

Season chicken on both sides with salt and pepper to taste. Heat 1 tablespoon butter and olive oil in a medium skillet over medium-high heat until melted and hot. Place chicken thighs skin-side down and sear 2-3 minutes on both sides until golden brown. Remove from skillet and set aside.

Add onion and potatoes to same skillet and saute several minutes until golden-brown. Season with salt and pepper to taste then remove from skillet and set aside.

Melt remaining 1 tablespoon butter over medium-heat in same skillet, then add garlic to pan and saute 1 minute until garlic is fragrant. Add honey, soy sauce, and vinegar to pan and bring to a simmer, then reduce heat to medium-low and let simmer 5 minutes until slightly thickened.

Nestle chicken thighs and potato mixture into pan and use a spoon to drizzle some of the sauce over top. Bake chicken at 400F 25-30 minutes or until chicken registers 160F and potatoes are tender. Serve warm and enjoy!

Sauteed Broccoli Rabe

Ingredients

Kosher salt

1 bunch broccoli rabe, tough, non-leafy stems removed

Extra-virgin olive oil

3 cloves garlic, smashed

Directions

Bring a large pot of well salted water to a boil. Set up a bowl of well salted ice water. Drop the broccoli rabe into the boiling water and cook for 1 minute. Remove from the boiling water and plunge immediately into the ice water. Once cool remove from the ice water and let dry. It can be used right away or held for future use.

Coat a large saute pan with olive oil. Add the smashed garlic andbring to medium heat. Once the garlic is brown and aromatic, remove it from the pan and discard. It has fulfilled its garlic destiny. Add the broccoli rabe and toss around in the oil to heat up and season. Remember the broccoli is already cooked. Add more oil, if needed and season with salt if needed (it probably will).

So we had Sarah over at Whole and Heavenly Oven do all the leg work of recipe creation. I’ve got to be honest, I hadn’t checked out her blog until just now for *this* blog, but she’s 21, cute as a button, and seems like a genuinely lovely person, so give her site a quick browse and drool over the photos of peanut butter cookie chocolate ganache tarts like I did (holy shit I might need to try that). The broccoli rabe recipe is from Anne Burrell via Food Network, and I love that it looks like the snapshot-quality photos of dishes I do on this blog; like they probably perfectly edible, but slapped on a plate and scooted across the table for a photo moments mere before eating.

James and I ready to get started with raw chicken.

Lessening the rawness of the chicken. Very important step.

Peel and chop those potatoes! Pardon the lime - we were making fizzy water at the same time. I don’t imagine lime potatoes are terribly good.

Throw your small raw potatoes into a pan and turn them into small slightly-less-raw potatoes! (I know, I always make this joke).

James using the master spatula (super wide, fantastic for pancakes and quantities of slightly-less-raw potatoes) to move our tots and free up some space for the chicken.

Treating that cast iron pan with the good loving it deserves - oil, butter, spices, and garlic. I was pretty close to just pouring that into a bowl and calling it a night.

After a few minutes of chicken-browning, throw the potatoes back in. Capacity reached!

I was hunting for something in the fridge and stumbled upon this monster jug of maple syrup. I mean, this is probably why we’re all friends - I love maple syrup like no one else. But even I thought this jug might be too big.

Broccoli rabe: washed and healthy and ready to smother in oil

So in order to blanch the broccoli rabe, I had to set up a sort of station. On the stove was the boiling water, where I dunked handfuls of rabe for a few minutes. Then plucked them out and threw them into the bowl of ice water on the bench at my knees for just a few seconds, then right into the hot oil and garlic in the wok.

So far so good...

Aaaaaaand when I noticed the garlic was starting to burn. This is actually the face I’m usually making throughout the cooking process.

But it all turned out fine in the end.

And voila! No plated photo because we were too damn hungry and this was SO GOOD.

Final final verdict: I’ll probably make this all the time because it was cheap, healthy (ish), and tasty. Salut!

#unpinned pintrest cooking

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foodallergiesandus-blog · 7 years ago

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Not My Mama’s Shepherd’s Pie

My mom used to make us Shepherd’s Pie a few times a year. It was a treat, I tell ya!

So I’ve decided to make this famous family pie in return…with a little twist: ALLERGEN FREE!

Grocery shopping for Little Dude’s been the hardest for me recently. I MUST read everything that’s in the ingredients. A LOT of boxed processed foods may say “GLUTEN FREE” but at the very bottom of the ingredients, in bold “MAY CONTAIN WHEAT” or other food allergens. It may also say “Processed in a facility that handles soy” etc. It’s very time consuming, but It’s for his safety and… I need to feed my child!

Whole Foods has been my go-to grocery store as they have pretty much everything I need, except for gluten free oats and/or oat flour. I’m still on a hunt for that one.

If you do not consider coconut as part of the tree nut family, feel free to use coconut milk yogurt like I did in this recipe.

Ahem… excuse my rookie photography. I was trying to snap decent photos while cooking and chasing my 10 month old across the room. He’s gotten faster at crawling!

#thestruggleisreal.

I start off by boiling the potatoes with a sprinkle of salt. (This should be done cooking around the time the filling is complete.)

In a separate pan, I start cooking the ground beef in olive oil. Remove the meat from the pan and get rid of the excess fat that’s rendered during the cooking process.

You wouldn’t want your casserole floating in oil, do ya?

DO NOT CLEAN THE PAN!

Instead…Drizzle some olive oil and sauté the onions, garlic, and celery. Season with salt and pepper. Make sure to not overdo the seasoning as it will be difficult to adjust. I say from experience! Please, season to taste.

Normally, I would chop up fresh carrots along with my mirepoix, but I had some frozen goodies stored. Waste not, what not.

After sweating the veggies for about 5 minutes, add the brown rice flour. This is what I have on hand, but feel free to try other gluten free flours available in your pantry or local grocery store.

Let the flour cook for a few minutes and add the beef stock.

Let it bubble, thicken, and cook for a couple of minutes. Then, transfer the ground beef back in the pan along with the frozen vegetables and ketchup.

Mix everything together to incorporate all the flavors. Adjust the salt and pepper to your liking. I do not like to put too much salt in my dishes…for one, I feed my little ones what I cook and I wouldn’t want them to develop kidney stones at 20 years old!

Okay, I’m over exaggerating. I mean, what’s the whole purpose of eating healthy if your food is filled with salt or sugar, right?

So now, lets prepare our mashed potatoes.

Yes, I used a fork to mash my ‘tatoes! They were tender enough to use a dinglehopper. I mix in some dairy goodness and season with salt and pepper to your liking.

BEFORE transferring all your hardworking in the ceramic baking pan, oil or butter the inside of the pan. You will thank me for it.

You can neatly spread your mashed potatoes on the meat mixture, but I like the messy look.

I mean, the messy look is so in nowadays!

Plus, I love the little patches of golden, crunchy, deliciousness going on here!

(Sorry for the lego mess in the background)

I never thought I’d be able to pull something off like this! Food free from top 8 allergens, look like it was made with “regular” ingredients, and taste this good!

Little Dude loved it, too!

I’m a proud mom… and wife!

…I’m conjuring up some bad thoughts and may try this with turkey meat next time…

NOT MY MAMA’s SHEPHERD’s PIE ……………(Serves 6-8)

POTATO TOPPING:

2 lbs Idaho (Russet) Potato

1 container So Delicious Coconut yogurt, plain

2 tbsp Earth Balance Buttery Spread, Soy Free

½ cup rice milk (I used Rice Dreams)

Salt and pepper to taste

INSTRUCTIONS:

Peel and slice the potatoes in quarters. Place in a pot and fill it with water until the potatoes are submerged. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt.

Bring to boil and cook until fork tender, about 10-12 minutes.

Drain and place in a bowl, mash with a fork or potato masher.

Mix all ingredients and set aside.

FILLING:

2-3 tbsp Olive oil

1 cup or 1 small diced yellow onion

½ cup diced celery (3 stalks)

2 cloves minced garlic

1.5 lbs ground beef (I used 80/20)

2 tbsp brown rice flour

1 cup beef broth, gluten free

1 tbsp ketchup

2 cups frozen peas and carrots

INSTRUCTIONS:

On medium high heat, drizzle the olive oil in a pan and brown the meat. Break up the meat and sprinkle salt and pepper. Cook until the meat is no longer pink.

Remove the meat from the pan and drain excess fat.

Drizzle olive oil and sauté the onions, garlic, and celery. Sweat the vegetables for about 5 minutes on medium heat.

Sprinkle the brown rice flour and cook for 2 minutes, stirring often.

Add the beef broth and ketchup and let it come to a boil to deglaze the bottom of the pan.

Transfer the meat back in the pan with the frozen vegetables and ketchup. Cook and stir for 1-2 minutes.

Preheat the oven at 350F degrees.

Place the meat and vegetable filling in a buttered or oiled casserole or baking dish. Top with mashed potatoes evenly.

Bake for 15-20 minutes.

Change setting and broil for 6 minutes or until the top is browned. Keep a close eye so it doesn’t burn.

Serve and enjoy!

…This actually taste even better the next day!

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sunniholliday · 8 years ago

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Justice In The Knight part 2

Title: Justice In The Knight part 2 Authour: Holliday Pairing: Rizzoli/Isles Disclaimer: Let's begin again 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 The two had stopped at the market Jane had decided to treat the Doc to a real meal. So she picked up some russet potatoes, New York strip steak, sour cream, onions,butter and some KALE. When they got to Maura's Townhouse the two went in separate directions. Maura deposited her bag by the door. Her medical bag on the drawer in the hallway. Her jacket she hung up. Her shoes were removed and deposited in front of the sofa. Jane had turned around to notice how OCD she was. Yet she also found a certain charm to her methods. She of course returned to her task at hand. She rustled around for a few moments as Maura walked in. "Looking for something?" "Yes." "Soooo?" "I need a knife, cutting board, pot, skillet. " "Observe." She moved thru the kitchen opening a cupboard she began to remove the pot and skillet. Walking to another cupboard she removed the cutting board. She then opened a drawer and pulled out a knife. "This one ok." "I prefer a smaller one." She handed her another. She noticed how relaxed she seemed for once almost as if this should be fun. In truth food had never seemed fun just needed. Jane began peeling the brown spotted skin from the potato. When they were peeled she sliced them in half. Then cubes. Placing them in salt water she then put them on the stove. She knew from experience a low flame was best considering there cook time of about half an hour. Moving onto the onion, she rinsed off the cutting board and knife. Earning a small smile from Maura. "I wasn't raised in a barn." "I am learning." Then she cut off the tip of the vegetable and then the bottom. Removing the skin, she began to cut the round onion. Maura began to breath in the scent pleasant. Once the onion had been sliced she moved over to the steak. "What seasoning do you like?" "I.." "Take a second think about this." Maura did as advised and began to ponder. Whilst she did Jane used the knife again to open the package of steaks. Turning to face Maura she waited on her answer. "Truthfully I wouldn't know." "Good start. I'm partial to beginners salt and pepper. I will have the same but I like garlic cleans the blood also brings the Taste of the meat out with onions and butter." "Ok." Jane put the fire under the skillet as it began to warm up. She cut some butter. Dropping it into the pain she watched it as melted. When it began to bubble she added the onions. Moving toward the steak she added the salt and pepper to Maura's then the same to hers with the garlic. Maura was watching the onions as they began to cook. There color was changing. "Caramelizing." "Really?" "Yes. So is this always." "No. Just thought you should have the experience." "Fine." When they were perfect she removed them from the skillet. She waited a beat before cutting more butter. When the pan returned to the flame the sweet smell wafted thru the air. Then she added the butter again she waited for it to melt and sizzle before she added the steaks. The sizzle was enough to bring Maura over she watched Jane as she seemed so at ease. She let the meat cook as she did she looked over to Maura who seemed more engrossed by the meat than anything else. "Finally." She seemed to notice how she flipped them over. When she punctured the flesh the skillet sizzled again. She then moved onto the Kale she removed the stems. Running some water in the sink she let them soak. TBC...

#ficjusticeintheknightpart2

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wellpersonsblog · 5 years ago

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Sweet Potato White Bean Bars

These Sweet Potato White Bean Bars are perfect for breakfast or snack time. They’re kid-friendly, nut-free and full of fiber!

Hi friends!

Meet my Sweet Potato White Bean Bars…my latest creation and a snack that all three of my kids enjoy. My neighbor recently ordered 6 russet potatoes in her grocery pickup order and since they were all out, they gave her 40 (yes forty) sweet potatoes instead. When she asked if I could use some, I knew a new recipe was in order.

If you’ve been around awhile, you may have already tried my White Bean Muffins. My youngest LOVES great northern beans so I’ve taken to stocking the pantry with them and after I made those muffins, I found they’re great for baking because they have a very mild flavor.

Sweet Potato White Bean Bars

I also love using sweet potatoes in baked goods. Have you tried my GF Sweet Potato Brownies , Sweet Potato Protein Cookies or Sweet Potato Banana Bites? I wanted to combine sweet potatoes and beans and I also wanted to make a snack that was nut-free (my white bean muffins have peanut butter in them).

So behold these bars! These were approved by all three of my kids. To be honest I was shocked that my older two liked them. But I’m not complaining. They prefer them warm so I usually warm them up in the microwave before serving. And my youngest ate half the pan after the first batch so I had to make a second batch to photograph for this post!

Sweet Potato White Bean Bars are the perfect addition to breakfast or lunch and also make a great snack. Plus they’re nut-free so they’re safe for school! Here’s how you make them:

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Sweet Potato White Bean Bars

These Sweet Potato White Bean Bars are perfect for breakfast or snack time. They’re kid-friendly, nut-free and full of fiber!

Author: Lindsay

Prep Time: 5 min

Cook Time: 20 min

Total Time: 25 minutes

Yield: 12 bars

Ingredients

1 (15 oz) can great northern beans (drained and rinsed) 3/4 cup cooked mashed sweet potato 2 eggs 1/3 cup maple syrup 1/3 cup oil (i use avocado oil) 1 tsp vanilla extract 1 tsp cinnamon 1 tsp baking soda 2/3 cup white whole wheat flour 1/4 cup hemp seeds (optional) 1/2 cup chocolate chips

Instructions

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

In a food processor, combine beans, sweet potato, eggs, maple syrup, oil and vanilla. Process until smooth.

Add cinnamon, baking soda, flour and hemp hearts and process until combined.

Add chocolate chips and pulse a few times.

Spoon into a 9×9 pan lined with parchment paper.

Bake at 375 degrees for 20-22 minutes.

Let cool, cut and serve. Store in the fridge.

Notes

You could try cannellini beans or chickpeas but i think they have a stronger flavor than great northern beans.

To cook the sweet potato I just stab several times with a knife, microwave 5-6 minutes and then cut open to let cool before mashing into the measuring cup.

You could sub chia seeds or some ground flax for the hemp hearts.

I haven’t tried any substitutions for the flour. You could try oat flour to make them gluten-free.

Did you make this recipe?

Tag @theleangreenbean on Instagram

Have I mentioned how much I love my Cuisinart 11-cup food processor for baked goods? (Aff link) I’m really not sure why I even bother putting it away. I use it pretty much every day.

If you try these bars and like them, please leave a rating and pin them on pinterest!

Enjoy! –Lindsay–

First found here: Sweet Potato White Bean Bars

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