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Lachlan Irwin

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"Ah, stone the crows!" He was not off to a good start.

Someone had the bright idea of leaving Lachlan in charge of cooking the meat they had prepared, but none thought to check if he really know how to, well, cook. The pieces of boar were well cooked now, having forgotten to turn them around on their little skewered sticks until he smelled burning, something he was clued in enough to recognise that was not a good sign. The other Initiates expected him to know how to cook after all his talking up of the food he ate and missed back home, but Lachie came to the conclusion that his new mates simply needed to get to know him. With the fistful of makeshift skewered meat, he set out to the larger campfire and brandished the group his culinary achievements.


"Sorry, bit charred on one side. I also didn't think that the fire was too hot or anything..."

Lachlan simply grinned at them, that boyish charm being put to use unbeknownst to him. "I can keep cutting more pieces and try again if anyone wants me to." He hoped to Kress they didn't. Should he grab his knife and look eager to fail to convince them to tell him no, and to sit down?

Maybe.
 
She knew he'd overcooked their food minutes ago, but hadn't the heart to tell him how to cook. Especially after he had spent so much time and effort preparing the odds and ends. Natasha would fare no better she figured. The girl had a rather extensive reputation for giving food poisoning not only to initiates, but herself as well. But gods was Natasha starving. Shamefully, she had been looking forward to this meal since they'd first spotted that poor creature.

She smiled, her brows raised in a mixture of disappointment and confusion. Her silvery eyes locked onto the burnt flesh and then onto his face. It was hard to be angry with him when he looked like an excited puppy. In a matter of seconds, his stupid grin had quelled the irritation brewing in Natasha.

"No!" She hopped to her feet a little too eagerly and dusted the dirt from her pants. Looking into the pile of meat in his hands, she selected one that appeared to be the least burnt. Poor thing looked like he might cry if they didn't praise his effort at least. "I'm sure it will be fine for now, Lachlan. It looks great. Sit down and eat. We can save the rest for later. Take turns cooking, so you do not have to do it all on your own."

She followed up with a sincere smile and a bite into the meat. The same look of confusion and disappointment returned as she chewed. Somehow burnt and half-raw. Almost impressively terrible. Perhaps Natasha had finally met her match in cooking skill.
 
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It had been a long trek, and even Khalil knew he was getting anxious for sustenance. Fortunately, an animal crossed their path, and the man, although sympathetic, joined in on chasing the poor thing. Inwardly watching himself and the others ruthlessly slaughter the poor thing, he felt a bit weirded out. On the other hand, he also felt pride as an Initiate. We're all badass top-of-the-food-chain predators at the end of the day. He was no fool, and knew it was only his innate powers that even got him considered to join, but he was lucky for the chance to work alongside others equally if not more impressive than himself.

Khalil knew hell all about cooking and doubted anyone else in their group was particularly skilled at home ec, but Lachlan had decided to take one for the team and struggle through the process. What came out of the other side of that ordeal, as the man found out, were many burnt pieces of meat. Even so, Khalil doubted he could do much better and accepted the food. He mentally shrugged, observing the meat for a second before biting into it. As soon as he did, a question flooded his mind: How the fuck did Lachlan both overcook and somehow also overcook this thing? It's not even really edible.

He tried to be civilized, but was ultimately unable to swallow and covertly spit it out, hoping the boy didn't notice. Just for caution's sake, he shot a look over to Natasha that said "not a word to the boy.", if only in case she had seen him reject the offering. Well, she couldn't be too mad about that, right? The potential safety risk of the meat was more than enough reason to not spare any mercy. Still, he had better sense than to take the hardass approach. "Yes. Natasha's strategy sounds helpful. I, for one, could use some real world experience with this skill as well. Come, eat while the sun is still above."

Khalil would grimace at the aftertaste, turning away. He felt bad for goading the boy on, but those who experienced the consequences of their actions firsthand often learned more, as was the case for him. Besides, the cuteness of the younger initiate's puppy dog grin made him want to help Lachlan's earnest attitude instead of harm it. This poor boy is going to learn a lesson, alright. Actually, I have already learned one as well: I doubt things would have ended any differently had I been the one at the pot, so therefore, I shall not ever cook if only for the safety of my groupmates.

Lachlan Irwin Natasha
 
Lachlan grinned at his comrades assuring him his efforts were not expected to be the fine dining one could find in Vel Anir. He gladly took the seat beside Natasha, biting into one of the skewers, and chewed.

And chewed.

... and chewed.

"Oh. I like it. It's got a really salty taste to it. Would be perfect in a sandwich. Don'tcha agree, Kha-- sorry. Dreadlord Khalil?" He turned around to look at Natasha, winking at her with a lopsided grin. If they had bread at this camp, he would happily slave over the fire and make them each a meat sandwich. Probably forage some leaves for some excuse of a salad... but he was not familiar with the plantlife in these parts.

He really did not want to poison anyone here.
 
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