I Don’t Even Know, Okay?

So . . . interesting things happen when Ruby and I are allowed to communicate. We haven’t talked much lately, what with how busy we’ve both been, but we’ve been playing catch-up. And, while our conversation started normally enough, we soon got a little silly and then . . . it just all went downhill from there.

Ruby: Speaking of food, I’ve had this insanely domestic urge over the last few weeks to get back in the kitchen to cook, or bake (apparently I’m a much better baker than I am cook)

Dom: And WTF? Get out of my brain
Dom: I’ve been like, fighting the urge to cook for weeks now

Ruby: You too?!

Dom: Specifically, to cook for Milady
Dom: Or bake apple pie
Dom: or cookies
Dom: but mostly pie

Ruby: Man, like I said, 50% of my brain and vice versa
Ruby: Nice

Dom: It’s a pride thing with the pie, because the homemade pastry is so fucking finicky

Ruby: Mom told me she needs me home to make her banada bread; apparently the oneΒ I make is the best

Dom: It continues to amaze me that we manage to be on the same wavelength despite a national border and two time zones between us

Ruby: I’ve got a recipe for one with walnuts and chocolate chips

Dom: AWESOME! (total bragging rights, right there–you know that, yeah?)

Ruby: It’s us, should you be surprised?

Dom: I like banana bread with chocolate chips. I’m not sure about the walnuts though. I don’t know if I like walnuts . . .
Dom: I know, okay? I SHOULDN’T be surprised, but, well . . .

Ruby: It’s not mine (well, the adaptation with both is mine, but not the base recipe)

Dom: Hey–innovation counts!

Ruby: I crush the walnuts fairly fine and they don’t have that much taste
Ruby: So it works out pretty well
Ruby: And yay, innovation counts! I has bragging rights!

Dom: Oh wow, okay. Baking Goddess, right there
Dom: You totally have bragging rights, do not even

Ruby: “Goddess”, aren’t you sweet?
Ruby: And I know I have bragging rights for all sorts of things, I didn’t know my baking couonted

Dom: *blows kisses* You know that saying . . . “you catch more with honey”?
Dom: I’m the honeytrap part of this partnership
Dom: I lure them in . . . and then you nom their souls

Ruby: Souls . . . souls . . . must have . . . souls!
Ruby: NOM!
Ruby: MINE!

Dom: *evil cackles*

Ruby: All their powers be mine!

Dom: Well . . . I DO get a share for luring them in, right?
Dom: I mean, it’s only fair

Ruby: . . . yes . . . *passes soul cookies*

Dom: It’s not my fault I have a hard time getting through the shell the gooey soul-centre

Ruby: Then I make cookies out of them

Dom: YAY! *noms the soul-cookies*

Ruby: πŸ˜€

Dom: *is dying of laughter*

Ruby: So glad you’re happy
Ruby: I tried soul pie, but it came out too dry
Ruby: Not enough honey
Ruby: πŸ˜‰

Dom: Mm, yeah. It’s got a tough shell for a reason–it withers and gets leathery when exposed
Dom: OH!
Dom: You charmer, you

Ruby: Who, me?
Ruby: πŸ˜›

Dom: Yes, you!
Dom: *is giggling so hard my tummy hurts*

Ruby: *passes soul juice* It has restorative powers
Ruby: πŸ˜‰
Ruby: It’s a little tart, but I don’t think you’ll mind too much

Dom: *sips the deliciously tart soul-juice between gigglefits*

Ruby: See, I thought you’d like it
Ruby: I would have made tea out of it, but it’s apparently like wine; the souls need to age a bit, otherwise it’s bitter

Dom: Ah. *nods* That would make sense.
Dom: And while the time required to let it age IS quite tiresome, soul-juice should NOT be made into soul-moonshine
Dom: Because I’m pretty sure that would start the zombie apocalypse

Ruby: It just might–I tried, but then had to bash it with a broom because it started moving

Dom: *just . . . dies*
Dom: *is brought back by the soul-juice*

Rube: See, I told you it works!

Dom: *dies some more at the mental image of you beating a zombie with a broom*
Dom: *is legit cackling my face off*
Dom: *deep breaths*
Dom: Whooooo. Okay. I’m good.
Dom: I’ve missed you SO. FREAKING. MUCH.

Ruby: And of course a broom, I was going to say a feather duster, but then I thought, ‘why would I have a feather duster in the kitchen? (or the cellar, wherever you make moonshine)’

Dom: Mmm, very true.
Dom: definitely a broom
Dom: Also: you get better reach with a broom
Dom: Always important when dealing with the rotting undead

Ruby: Of course, it’s also kinda badass

Dom: Well, yeah, that too
Dom: The feather duster has too many sexual connotations to be really badass
Dom: I mean, brooms = witches (which are powerful, fearsome beings)
Dom: feather dusters = French maids

Ruby: true, true

Dom: And one really MUST think of these things while aspiring to BAMF-dom

Ruby: But of course–though I think I’ve gone beyond aspiring πŸ˜‰

Dom: Well, DUH.
Dom: You’re in the “active cultivation” phase now
Dom: But I didn’t want to make assumptions about when you experimented with soul-juice and had to smite a zombie lest you inadvertently start an apocalypse ahead of schedule.

Ruby: True, true.

Seriously. I don’t even know about us sometimes.

I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.

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