mauville | Open Post ☆ Clover Field

Wow~

[He is just barely impressed. He's never seen anybody with footwork that precise up close in his life. Leg work, arm work, hand work - sure. On the other hand, Clover actually thought she could do that alone, and she was obviously wrong. So he doesn't look impressed for long.

This is when it finally dawns on him that she might actually not share her cookies, even though somebody the size of Clover clearly could not eat this amount of cookie so really by sharing with Murasakibara she would be productively avoiding waste, clearly. He nudges the bowl an inch closer to her. Perhaps another "helpful gesture" will thaw her demeanor further, just as she de-escalated from yelling at him to saying nothing.]

[Assuming Clover can't eat all these cookies is a vast underestimation of her power, probably. But she squints at the bowl as it's nudged towards her, pausing in the middle of pulling apart the bag.]

I know what it's for. [Gonna have to use your words, my dude.]

So are you going to use it to do that? Make cookies.

[As he just stands there, Murasakibara's brow furrows in return. He takes in Clover's baleful gaze and realizes that she's exhibiting verbal defiance, which also means that he can't just use additional gestures or even violence to get what he wants here (especially considering that he would really prefer not to bake these cookies himself; besides his reluctance to exert effort, she would be better at baking the cookies). He takes half a second more to settle on his verbal weapon of choice. It's been at least three weeks since he's actually had a reason to say this out loud.]

Please.

Make cookies? I was just gonna eat the dough out of the bowl like this while the preheated oven kept me warm in here.

[What makes this sarcasm necessary, Clover?? But she pauses, and then starts to grin. It's not a nice grin at all. As a matter of fact, this is the face a girl who has realized the power she is currently wielding.]

Please what?

[why is she this way]

[Murasakibara does not know why she is this way. The last girl he knew well, Momoi, was not like this. On the other hand, Momoi couldn't cook. Maybe the fires of the kitchen burn their souls. Or something gets into their teeth - she shows her teeth a lot, he would be intimidated if her face were less than two feet away from his face.

He heaves a sigh, decides that he would rather be subjected to this power for now than actually try to figure out over the course of years if Clover is Ever Nice, and speaks again.] Please bake the dough into cookies.

[Spoilers: she's either nice or helpful, but never both at once. It's because she's so short and, ergo, closer to hell.]

Um, that was the plan. [And she tugs apart the plastic chocolate chip cookie bag, takes a moment to glimpse over at a measuring cup set aside, and proceeds to dump the entirety of the bag's contents into her bowl of batter.

In the middle of stirring, she pauses and glances up at him.]

Need something? [why are you still here, bruh. Except no, she knows exactly why he's still here, but she knows full well what power she has here and she's going to milk it for all it's worth.]

[For a brief moment he actually relaxes and thinks she's totally agreed with him. The only reason Murasakibara doesn't get bored and leave is because he derives vague amusement from the visual appeal of watching the ingredients get mixed. It's only when Clover asks him if he needs something that he realizes she's still mad at him, and his teeth click.]

When the cookies are done please share them with me. [Half a second later he remembers something else and then actively grits his teeth, speaks more quickly this time.] More than one of them.

[And she snorts and starts to giggle, because god he's so mad about it and that's absolutely hilarious to her, that he can be that pissy about basic pleasantries, and especially that her influence is great enough that he needs to specify cookie number. This is wonderful. She's so proud of herself.]

Yeah, I was just gonna leave 'em out for everybody anyway. [All of this effort from him for nothing.] Just, like, save some for everyone else.

Okay.

[He lets out a big sigh of relief. Murasakibara immediately slates the claim that Clover had generous intentions all along as more of her Unhelpful Games because clearly he never makes useless effort unlike other people. This is just Clover trying to stay in power. On the other hand, he doesn't like the idea that Clover could win, and the events of the winter cup (including actually losing) have left him more open to the possibility of getting caught off guard. So he makes one more defensive move.]

...Thank you. [He says it as one word. He got into the habit when he was younger along with his general lilting speech, but it never got beaten out of him because it's also fairly common among uncouth athletes.]

You're welcome. [But she sounds so goddamn smug about it. It even comes with a haughty little hm! noise while she plops the batter into surprisingly even circles on the cookie tray.]

Hey, are you gonna get the chair off the counter or what? [Because that's totally not where that goes.]

[Well, Clover got the last word anyway, but Murasakibara doesn't bother to frown. It's not like this is a real game where Clover will be eliminated from the tournament, so it doesn't count. At least, he tells himself that to preserve his self esteem.]

Sure.

[Now that the central tension of the hour is dispelled, with far more languid limbs Murasakibara goes over and gets the chair off the counter. It's not an objectionable exertion of effort by his standards since to him it's not at all difficult to lift. He just leaves it on the floor right next to the counter, not sure where it actually originally went. Hey, he doesn't come in here a lot.]

[While he does that, Clover pops the cookie tray in the oven, sets the timer, takes her bowl of batter and the spoon, and sits right down in the recently-deposited chair. It didn't actually come from this room, she totally stole it from somewhere down the hall.]

It's gonna be, like, ten minutes. [The timer says eleven. In the meantime, Clover's going to be eating the remaining cookie dough.]

[He turns his head to look at the timer and then doesn't say anything. She said "like". It's not a big deal. He had thought it might take even longer than that, not immediately remembering that the oven was preheated.

For a while he just stands there. Even if there were anything to say to Clover, once she starts eating he's not about to interrupt her. Verbally, or physically; she never said that he could have the cookie dough, and he doesn't relish the idea of her pawing at his hands should he reach into the bowl. Though ten minutes isn't really enough time to wander somewhere else for activities that aren't standing around; by the time he got back they'd be cold anyway. He wants something to do...

Murasakibara grabs the bag of chocolate chips and looks to see if there are any left inside.]

[There are, in fact, no chocolate chips left inside. Clover has never half-assed anything in her entire life, much less when half-assing involves receiving less chocolate.

She glances over at him and, once she figures out what he's doing, snickers a little.]

There are white chocolate chips somewhere if you're that impatient.

[He briefly glares at her. It's not even the white chocolate chips that are the insult this time, though he doesn't want them any more than before; he doesn't like being called out on his impatience, and so he feels a childish urge to prove her wrong.]

Whatever.

[He leans in place and turns the bag over, glaring at the logos and labels.]

Open Post ☆ Clover Field

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject