ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ▸ if i wanna stay alive.

[lackluster]

WHO: Tartaglia & others.
WHERE: Around Stygia.
WHEN: November.
WHAT: Catchall for the month, mostly scenarios unrelated to the event. Plus some exploration and twerking.
WARNINGS: None as of now!

( ooc. just a closed log with the starters i owe for peeps! if you'd like a custom scenario with tartaglia, feel free to send me a pm or reply to my plotting comment so we can work something out.

Comments

[midway]

[ Well, Childe might not be able to help him solve the problem, but at least he's another body to blame when this eventually goes up in flames.

Which it probably will. ]

I don't really understand this temperature business, if I'm being honest...

[ At least, not in relation to cooking. He did routinely control heat while making poisons, but that was using an open flame. Either he had a big flame or a small flame, there was no device with which to set the exact heat.

He tilts his head. ]

Well, it's already cooked food so it doesn't need to be cooked at 100%. Maybe slightly lower than 50% just to reheat it?

[ He's going to set it for 50 minutes, yeah. ]

[lackluster]

[ Luckily, Tartaglia's only pressed one button, and that happens to be the number 5. He peers at the menu curiously as if the answer is suddenly going to leap out at him. It doesn't, of course, so that leaves him confused and unsure of what to do next. ]

But how do you lower it?

[ It's a rhetorical question at this point since he doubts the other person knows how to do just that. Usually, this sort of thing is much easier to do with an open flame but since that isn't available... ]

I wonder, could you do simple subtraction to lower the temperature?

[ There is no minus sign to indicate that this is possible. Hm. Well, trial and error, that's the only way to go. He adds another 0 to the number. It's now at 50 minutes, at least. He doesn't know that this is the case. ]

Does that look right to you?

[midway]

[ Honestly, nothing about this looks right. But if there's only one set of numbers they can put in... Surely, that must be the temperature? And then they keep time on their own clocks and turn the device off when it's time.

He nods. ]

I've always been a proponent of learning by trial and error. [ What's the worst that could happen? He presses start.

... And so the countdown starts. So it wasn't the level of heat by the time that they input. ]

Maybe there's only temperature, then?

[ Anyway, the microwave catches fire.

(The food tray was covered in tin foil.) ]

[lackluster]

[ Why is it counting down? Is it a bomb? Did they mess this up somehow?

Well, then again, it's not like he knows any better given that he's never seen this device before. Maybe it's working as intended even as it catches on fire. Tartaglia isn't panicking at the very least. ]

Is that supposed to happen?

[ If it's supposed to cook food with an open flame, then... ]

[midway]

Sure, you need fire to cook, don't you? The stove makes fire too when you turn the knob.

[ No, Claude does not think this is supposed to happen. Or maybe it is, he's honestly lost. At this point, a fairy could appear, eat the entire device and shit out a perfectly cooked meal and he'd believe that's how it's supposed to work.

Not that he'd want to eat it.

He tilts his head, settling his hands on his hips as he waits. ]

It's smart to keep the flame controlled in there.

[lackluster]

Well, if you think that's how this should work, then it's fine.

[ Both of them are really going to watch this microwave burn itself out. Maybe it's the telltale signs of something burning that makes Tartaglia ask again, but... even he isn't entirely sure anymore. ]

—hm? Is your food supposed to be charred?

[ He said it was already cooked, so. Maybe?

Either way, Tartaglia reaches out to touch the microwave, only to back out at the last minute. ]

It's really hot, huh. [ Understatement of the century. ]

[midway]

[ Claude may be smiling on the outside, but he certainly isn't smiling on the inside right now. Which isn't any different from usual, but unlike usual, it's not because he's annoyed or suspicious.

He just thinks he's made a mistake, and is in denial. ]

Yeah... [ Well, sort of. It's hard to be in denial when sparks start to go off inside the microwave. ] I suspect we might've gone a little off the recommended path, my friend.

[ There's more sparks. He is now genuinely worried this device is going to explode and is starting to lean away from the microwave.

There's still like 4 minutes to go. ]

[lackluster]

[ Yet again, Tartaglia wishes he had his Vision. It would be an easy fix if that was the case, but seeing as he doesn't have it, he's left with Plan B: being reckless. They don't have much time left given the countdown so the first thing he does is press the button that says 'Stop'. If his fingers hurt from how hot the surface is, he doesn't say anything.

At least that stops the sparks. Not the fire though. ]

Something tells me using water to kill the fire is going to be a bad idea. [ More like elemental reactions are what's telling him that's a bad idea, but. ] Got a blanket anywhere?

We might have to smother it.

[ It's still burning away, yeah. ]

[midway]

[ His hero! Just going in and manfully pressing the stop button. Unfortunately, Claude's expression is little more than remorseful. He really had been hungry, and probably wouldn't be getting a meal now...

He stares sadly at the tea towel that is no where near big enough to smother the entire microwave. ]

Just a second.

[ There's a washroom nearby that he dips into, grabbing one of the larger towels there before returning to toss it over the microwave. As far as he can tell, they've cut off the fire's source of oxygen well enough that it should die on its own without causing them further harm...

... Probably.

He looks at his comrade in failure. ]

How dangerous do you think that was just now?

[lackluster]

[ It shouldn't be a problem any longer given that they've taken care of the source of oxygen, but who knows. This could have been much worse though so Tartaglia knows they're really lucky in that regard. ]

Pretty dangerous, I'd say. [ Despite his words, he finds it so amusing. ] But at least now we know what we're not supposed to do when using this thing.

[ He glances at the smoke, peering at it curiously. ]

Do you think we should tell anyone?

[ His vote is no, of course, but he'll leave it up to Claude. ]

[midway]

Oh, definitely not. I don't need to give Sooyoung a reason to kick me out.

[ She has no sympathy! He'd be toast.

Troubled, he rubs his chin. ]

I still can't understand what I did wrong.

[lackluster]

Who knows.

[ He has no clue either. Peering at the now burnt remains of the microwave (and packaged food) spares no other clues so he's at a complete loss. ]

We could try asking someone how to use it, later. [ Much later. ] That way it won't be obvious we did this.

[ It's an excellent plan!! ]

[midway]

[ Claude thinks that he might just stake out the space, and try to spy on someone else using the device, but he supposes that simply asking for help would be much more sensible.

Or perhaps he'll just read a book about it. That's the most thorough way of learning about a new technology outside of experimentation. ]

I doubt anyone will suspect us.

[ Glances at him. ]

By the way, what's your name, stranger?

[lackluster]

[ When Claude knows how to use the microwave, Tartaglia is going to ask him for a tutorial session. Why can't he ask someone else? Well, he doesn't want to add to the suspicion once this broken microwave is discovered... ]

Childe. You can call me Childe. Who might you be?

[ They should have done this earlier, but it's fine. At least they can commemorate their meeting with this broken appliance. ]

[midway]

Claude von Riegan.

[ He smiles briefly, before his expression grows thoughtful and he taps his chin with a hand. ]

Though perhaps I should've given you a fake name, in case you decided to betray me and tattle about this little misadventure...

[ If the idea hadn't occurred to Childe already, it certainly has now. The theory doesn't exactly paint Claude in the most flattering light either—they'd been comrades in arms while tackling this microwave, and yet he's already begun to distrust his newfound companion. ]

[lackluster]

[ Tartaglia looks affronted, even if it's only mildly so. ]

I'm not the type to go blabbing around about this incident, especially if I said I wouldn't. [ It's not quite a promise, but it's something he intends to keep anyway. ] Since you're the one who said it, aren't you more likely to do it?

[ Two can play the distrustful game. He doesn't see the need to escalate this though. Not over a stupid microwave. ]

[midway]

[ Oh, did he offend him?

Claude smiles at the accusation, shaking his head. ]

Me? No way. I'm a team player. Plus, it would be pretty terrible to turn on a stranger who just volunteered to help me out of the goodness of their heart.

[ He holds out a hand. ]

Let's trust one another then.

[lackluster]

[ The smile does appease him a tiny bit, but not entirely. He does take the offered hand, however, shaking it firmly. ]

No one will know what happened here. That's a promise.

[ The poor microwave will be left in its broken and burnt state, and no one will be any the wiser. ]