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
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 one 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!
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*
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
Dom: Mm, yeah. It’s got a tough shell for a reason–it withers and gets leathery when exposed
Dom: You charmer, you
Ruby: Who, me?
Dom: Yes, you!
Dom: *is giggling so hard my tummy hurts*
Ruby: *passes soul juice* It has restorative powers
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 😉
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.