𝔴𝔢 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔳𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔲𝔰𝔲𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔲𝔭 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔡𝔯𝔶 𝔠𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 ♚ contact

[interminably]

@klaus.mikaelson | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

Comments

[snipedt]

[ For a second after sending that, Tim thought about making the joke himself, but he honestly wasn't sure if Klaus would be in the joking mood. Referencing a joke he could have made isn't the same thing, either, so Tim's still a little edgy. He chews his lip for a minute, wondering if he's overstepped some line. But Klaus is a big boy, he'd say so if that was the case. ]

Mostly just wanted to make sure your vocabulary's still intact
Clearly it is

[ A pause. ]

I've never had any complaints myself btw

[interminably]

( Both Klaus and Tim seem to be circling around the fact that if either one of them didn't want to reply, or talk, they would. So, it's clear they're in this now.

That joke and all. )

Duly noted.

Nothing has hindered my vocabulary or my motor functions. I do however have quite the jagged bone to pick with a certain doctor, but perhaps that's also a tale for the mountain. Speaking of, how are Everest preparations coming? Though the deserts you were stationed among can get chilly at night, it's nothing compared to the Himalayas.

[snipedt]

[ Tim can't tell if Klaus is trying to change the subject on purpose, but he's not done asking after Klaus. ]

It's going fine
You need a hand with anything? Groceries or whatever?

[interminably]

( Partially on purpose, but only because Tim doesn't do serious conversation well, and a lot went down. Someone is missing and ravenous. And Klaus is spending his extracurricular time trying to track down the limo service hired pick up team brain surgery. )

Are you offering to bring me groceries, Timothy?

[snipedt]

Yep
You want em or not?

[interminably]

( Well, this is. A thing. How can he spin this, and then perhaps be more honest after. Depending. )

Only if you stay and join me for dinner. I insist on this matter and it is a nonnegotiable condition.

[snipedt]

[ Tim can't help making a face at that, although there's nothing inherently wrong with joining someone for dinner. He's been to Rachel's for dinner a few times. God, he misses Rachel. It still takes him a little while longer to respond, though; the first time he met Klaus, he'd been drunk, and it was easier to talk to him then. Not so easy now. Maybe he should get a bottle of something. ]

OK, sure
I could eat
What's for dinner?

[interminably]

( It's just talking, Tim. )

Anything of your choosing. While I'm more used to others preparing food for my family and I, I do know my way around the kitchen.

[snipedt]

[ Talking is the worst possible thing, Klaus. The absolute worst. ]

Good because I can do grilled cheese and huevos rancheros and chilli in a pinch and that's it

[ He feels weird requesting something now, but... whatever. ]

I like spicy stuff

[interminably]

That isn't very much to go on as most dishes have "spicy" as an option when preparing them. But, despite that, I think I could manage a cajun shrimp in this reality. I did tell you I was in New Orleans before waking up to New Amsterdam?

[snipedt]

No but I made an apparently accurate guess based on your descriptions

[ Cajun shrimp sounds... really fucking good, goddamn it Klaus. ]

How hard is that to make?

[interminably]

It's the spices we should worry about, but most have been replicated. Paprika, oregano, thyme, red pepper, and garlic are what you'd be looking for. Vegetables are easier to come by here, so a simple green as our side. Spinach would do.

( Nothing that will overpower the flavors of the shrimp. )

[snipedt]

Alright

[ A bit of radio silence now, as Tim throws on his jacket and heads out. It's only as he's hopping on a train for a few stops to get to a more trustworthy part of town in which to buy food that he figures he doesn't have to hold the fort the whole time. ]

When did you learn to cook?

[interminably]

( While Tim goes radio silent, Klaus files glass prints and posters and listens to whatever unrecognizable music and playing over the sound system in the gallery.

Tim's next message comes through, the answer to which is once again quite complicated. )

Oh, over the years, really. On different continents. From various people. All around. And did you teach yourself your eggs, grilled cheese and chili in a pinch?

[snipedt]

[ That's the vaguest answer Tim's ever heard, and he's practically a master of them. The thing is, if Klaus wants to be vague, then Tim can't criticise him otherwise that opens him up to the exact same criticism. Not that he thinks it'd be malicious.

Maybe a little bit, a tiny bit out of spite, Tim decides to share a little more than he maybe would have done otherwise in response. ]

I could barely cook anything until after I got my discharge
Moved in with a couple other vets when I got assigned to the Lexington marshals office and one of em taught me a couple Tex Mex things
I can do basic stuff, boil pasta and rice and make chicken edible, but I'm not really a cook, you know?
Most of my cooking experience is a vomelet in a flameless ration heater which is definitely where the majority of my PTSD can be traced back to

[ Dumb joke hiding nasty truth. ]

[interminably]

( What is Klaus going to say, over the centuries? )

I can't say I've ever come across the vomelet, though I can say I'm happy I haven't.

I first learned very basic techniques from my mother. Cooking over an open flame. Long after, when I encountered other cultures and other techniques I found intriguing, from some I learned and others I observed. Most were prepared for me. But, I did dabble in most categories with a variety of outcomes. I never did master baking.

[snipedt]

Veggie omelet, but it really earned the portmanteau

My mom used to bake by hand, all kinds of stuff

[ He kind of sent that last bit without thinking, and for a split second afterwards his stomach does a nasty flip like that moment when your rollercoaster cart goes tumbling over the first drop. Reading it back relaxes him; it's not that revealing. No great secret. ]

[interminably]

An omelet with vegetables then. I did not see that coming, admittedly.

My mother was a practicing baker, cook, harvester and gardener. She was a woman of many talents.

( Of lying. Of witchcraft. Of manipulation. She was twisted and hateful, but somehow deeply loving in her own fucked up way. )

[snipedt]

[ He's quiet again for a little while, but that's only because he's heading off the train and into the supermarket. It's weird, doing something so familiar in such an unfamiliar place, but maybe the weirdest thing is that he's getting used to it. ]

Baking's a kind of science, right?
Everything has to be exact
I'm not much good at it either but I used to like watching my mom

Did yours teach you out of necessity? Or was it just stuff you picked up?

[interminably]

( Klaus isn’t all too concerned with the lull in conversation. He used to going about his day, tending to his affairs, trying to find a solution to all number of problems. Something he isn’t quite used to in this time. Whole groups aren’t after only him, or his family, including his daughter.

Closing the storage container, he gets a new message. )

Necessity a majority of the time, but in limited instances, she tried teaching me things.

( Specifically, that was witchcraft. But he was half werewolf and wouldn’t have been able to do her spells. She had always wanted him to live his life in the body of a wolf. But at the consequence of his body. )

[snipedt]

Where the hell did you grow up?

[ That's probably a rude question, honestly, but he's curious and he's not really one for schooling his reactions. ]

[interminably]

Virginia, though there were days it did indeed feel like hell.

[snipedt]

Where'd you get that accent?

[interminably]

( So astute, Timothy. )

Did your family never relocate? Some might say my accent is vaguely European, but then so are all my siblings. When I was younger we traveled, settled down in Virginia and made that our home.

[snipedt]

[ Vague indeed. ]

I would've thought you'd lose the accent if you moved when you were young but I guess not