[ there's something incredibly amusing about this guy. he really has to hand it to him. while he might've walked away under normal circumstances, he really just has to see how it plays out.
should he give him some advice? ]
Try a whisk.
[ "helpfully" he hands him one that happened to be laying not all that far away. there was something deeply satisfying about leading someone else to their demise. even if that "someone else" was only good taste.
as for the inevitable result... look. he once ate rotting snake flesh. it would be worth it to see what horrors he might inflict upon others. ]
[ Ah yes, he enjoys having a kitchen assistant to helpfully hand him things. Of course, it's still a Herculean task, to whip sour cream by hand — almost immediately it starts to thin, which is probably pretty distressing to a man who considers himself a capable baker.
The rattle of the metal whisk around the bowl falters to a halt.
Tentatively, he uses a finger around the edge of the bowl to taste. Wrinkles his nose. ]
[ Taryon considers this with a slightly wrinkled brow. And then, because he learned a lot from Vox Machina and it was all the wrong things, like how to convince someone to eat dirt or treat a rotten old egg as a special object, he squints at Ocelot. ]
Terribly sorry, but just to clarify,
[ In his rich, smooth voice with its polished upper class accent: ]
[ he has to admit, the other man's response catches him slightly off-guard, which is quite the accomplishment. but, he still replies, with the sweetest smile on his lips... ],
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
taryon darrington
[ there's something incredibly amusing about this guy. he really has to hand it to him. while he might've walked away under normal circumstances, he really just has to see how it plays out.
should he give him some advice? ]
Try a whisk.
[ "helpfully" he hands him one that happened to be laying not all that far away. there was something deeply satisfying about leading someone else to their demise. even if that "someone else" was only good taste.
as for the inevitable result... look. he once ate rotting snake flesh. it would be worth it to see what horrors he might inflict upon others. ]
no subject
[ Ah yes, he enjoys having a kitchen assistant to helpfully hand him things. Of course, it's still a Herculean task, to whip sour cream by hand — almost immediately it starts to thin, which is probably pretty distressing to a man who considers himself a capable baker.
The rattle of the metal whisk around the bowl falters to a halt.
Tentatively, he uses a finger around the edge of the bowl to taste. Wrinkles his nose. ]
Hm. I think this cream might have turned, friend.
no subject
Oh, don't worry about that. You've never heard of "sour cream" before? In my homeland, it's considered a delicacy.
[ he's really just amused by this whole display. and mostly, curious to see where it goes next.
(he also makes a note that when his closest friend ever wakes up, he will definitely have to have this man cook for him) ]
no subject
[ Taryon considers this with a slightly wrinkled brow. And then, because he learned a lot from Vox Machina and it was all the wrong things, like how to convince someone to eat dirt or treat a rotten old egg as a special object, he squints at Ocelot. ]
Terribly sorry, but just to clarify,
[ In his rich, smooth voice with its polished upper class accent: ]
Are you fucking with me right now?
no subject
About the sour cream? Certainly not.
[ about everything else? most assuredly. ]