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Cookies Make Everything Better

Summary:

Sylvia goes to visit Dorata in order to help him deal with some bad news.

Notes:

Hey yall!

This is a short little scene between Sylvia and Dorata exploring an aspect of their dynamic. These 2 are members of a 10 person polycule set in the world of New Capenna.

Little bit of context: Dorata (an amputee) has recently been told that his request for a fighting rink for people with prosthetics had been denied. Sylvia tries to distract and comfort him.

Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Sylvia was on a mission. This wasn’t a mission from the Obscura, nor one from another member of the polycule. No, this was a mission of her own design. She was deep in the heart of Riveteer territory, which wasn’t actually all that unusual for her. After all, she had many contacts scattered about the city, almost equally distributed among the 5 Houses and the common folk. But this time she wasn’t here to grill one of her contacts. Instead, she was here to pull a friend out of his funk.

It had been one week since the verdict had come back and it hadn’t been what they had hoped for. Denied. Their petition had been denied, and Dorata was crushed. Maeve had gone with Dorata to have a spar in order to allow him a way to vent his anger and frustrations out on a willing person. But none of them had neither seen hide nor hair from him since that day, and Sylvia had decided she was going to do something about it.

So here she was, walking down the streets of the Old Capenna district with a confident stride and a book in hand. She had been to Dorata’s main apartment many times before, and she was pretty sure she could find it in her sleep. She could probably find any of her partners’ places in her sleep, now that she thought about it.

Focus. She could think about that later.

Dorata’s apartment was located in the nicer section of Riveteer territory, and he paid a handsome premium for that right. It was close enough to his bar that he could walk to and from within a few minutes, and it also had a massive kitchen. That's the whole reason Dorata bought it in the first place. That's the whole reason Sylvia was paying him a visit.

She knocked, five precise taps against the wooden door. A moment passed, then the door opened with a creak of protest to reveal the haggard, hulking form of Dorata. He looked absolutely exhausted and frayed beyond belief. The first thing Sylvia noticed was the dark circles under his eyes. Those were a little off putting, but not entirely unexpected. The second thing she noticed, and the thing she would have been shocked not to see, was the apron with a heavy dusting of flour and cocoa that he wore. He looked down at her and blinked.

She met his gaze with a steady, challenging look. “Hello Dorata dear. May I come in?”

Wordlessly he stepped to the side, allowing her entrance into his home. It looked almost exactly like it had the last time she had visited, mostly tidy but with a few messy little corners that Dorata was too apathetic about to actually put the effort into tidying them up. The main difference between this visit and her last was the disaster that was the kitchen. It looked like a bomb had gone off in there, with flour on every conceivable surface, stacks of dirty dishes in and beside the sink, and was that batter dripping from the ceiling?? Sylvia did a double take, looked again, and yes, yes that was batter of some kind slowly sloping its way down the wall and dripping from the blades of the ceiling fan.

She turned to look back at the man she had come to visit, who did have the decency to look abashed at the disaster that was his kitchen. “So I was going to ask how you were doing, but I think the evidence speaks for itself here.”

He gave her a mock glare with only a little heat behind it, moving around her to pull something out of the oven. Sylvia craned her neck to get a look around his imposing frame. Chocolate chip cookies. She should have known. She let out an almost inaudible sigh. It seems she had some work ahead of her.

She took a seat on one of the bar stools that Dorata had installed on the far side of the counter. Resting her elbow on the countertop and her cheek on top of her fist, she watched in silence as Dorata moved the cookies from the hot pan to a cooling rack, then precariously placed said pan on top of the mountain of dishes next to his sink. He filled the sink with warm water and soap, rolled up his sleeves, and bravely strode into battle against the horde of his own making.

The silence was broken only by the ambient noises of dishwashing; the banging of pots and pans, the sloshing of water, the clicking of glassware. He washed, he dried, he put away, all done with an almost blank expression. He grabbed a wet rag and cleaned off a small spot of the counter across from where Sylvia sat.

Dorata rested his elbows on the counter and looked her in the eyes. “Why are you here Sylvia?”

She scoffed and gave him an offended look. “What makes you think I need a reason to come and spontaneously visit my good friend?”

He gave her a flat, hard look. Her carefree mask faded away. She sighed. “I… wanted to come and check up on you, as well as give you an update on what we’ve been doing for the past few days while you’ve been gone.” His expression softened at that admission. A raspy chuckle escaped her lips. “Strap in my friend, this is gonna be a long one.”

“Maeve told us about the verdict. I’ve got my contacts out looking for any info on those who voted against the fight ring. Zain’s doing the same with his contacts within the other houses.”

Dorata nodded, having expected as much from his partners in the house that arguably valued information the most. Sylvia continued. “Perse is on the warpath, and I mean that quite literally. I’m pretty sure I saw her shove someone out of her way in a hallway when I was heading over to Maeve’s office. Perse never shoves anyone, she’s too refined for that.”

A snort of laughter escapes her friends lips. She smiles. Success. ”Last I heard she was looking through the case files trying to see if there was actually any basis for the decision or if it was pure, unadulterated bias and bribery.”

“Maeve is going through the law books with an ultra fine tooth comb trying to see if there are any old laws we can use to start an appeal, maybe get this decision overturned. I’m sure she’ll find something. She’s good at this sorta thing.” He nods in agreement.

“Ru is also taking some time to try and turn the situation to our advantage. He’s pulling strings, calling in some favours, trying to out-bribe the competition. Ya know, Ru things.”

“Az, Candy, Chance, and Lae are on standby until we know who needs to be subtly taken out at the end of our investigation. Once that happens, we’ll-” She stops mid sentence and stares off into space over Dorata’s shoulder, a dawning look of both realization and horror slowly appearing on her face. Dorata was sure he had heard the gears in her head grind to a halt then almost immediately go into overdrive.

“Wait no that’s a terrible idea, sending just the four of them out alone. What were we thinking? Only Lae really knows the meaning of the word subtlety, but that goes out the window when she’s with those three. Maybe I can get Zain to go with them?” Sylvia continued to stare off into the distance, a thoughtful frown on her face. “I’ll have to give this more thought. I’d ask Ru, but he’s already got a lot on his plate already.”

She shook her head, banishing the thought to be looked over at a later point. “Anyway, tangent aside, Lae is making some fast acting poison that even I’ve never heard of before, so you know it’s going to be very effective. And probably painful, but that’s kinda what we’re going for here.”

“The rest had to practically be manhandled into staying put and not going out to immediately commit multiple acts of arson.” Another snort of laughter from Dorata. Sylvia hid a smirk. ”Last I saw, Candy was tinkering on what I can only assume was a supercharged flamethrower. I can already imagine the mad cackles. Ru had to come in to pacify Az for a bit and calm him down, and Chance…. I’m not actually sure what Chance is up to but you can bet they’re doing something.”

She claps her hands together, a smile stretching across her face. “So there you go! You’re all caught up now and we can get to the fun part of my visit.” Lifting the book up from her lap where she had rested it since she sat down, she pushed it over to Dorata. Bemused, he spun it around so he could read the title.

“Cookies for the Cookie Lover? A little on the nose there, don’t you think Sylvia?”

Waving one hand dismissively and digging around in her coat pocket for something, she replied to Dorata’s jab. “One of my contacts recommended it to me when word got out that I was looking for cookie recipes.” Her expression turned to one of thinly veiled amusement. “Funny thing though, most of my contacts apparently have no clue how to go about finding a decent cookbook. They have no trouble sniffing out even the most well kept secrets, but they can’t find a simple recipe book? A tragedy, really.”

He was trying so hard not to laugh. One more push would probably be enough. Casually, almost like she was distracted, she dropped one more bit of info. “I debated bringing an apron as well, but your birthday is coming up soon and I can’t go breaking tradition now then can I? I already have yours ready for this year, I’m almost positive victory will be mine.”

And there went his composure. He was laughing outright now, head in his hands and body shaking with the force of his mirth. A smug smile stretched across her face as she watched her friend’s stoic shell dissolve in front of her eyes. Victory truly was sweet.

Her fingers brushed against a slip of paper deep in the recesses of her pocket, and with a cry of triumph she pulled it out and waved it a few times to catch Dorata’s attention. “One last thing before we crack open that cookbook of yours. I may have… ah, convinced the baker on 35th and 112 street to part with his recipe for those triple chocolate cookies I noticed you had a fondness for.”

Dorata reigned in his laughter, though there was still a smile stretched across his face. “You blackmailed him.” It wasn’t a question.

She gave him an affronted look. “Blackmail is such an ugly word, don’t you think? I merely told him that my friend was having a terrible month and quite enjoyed those cookies of his and he was all too happy to give up the recipe.”

His smile grew wider. “So straight up extortion then, gotcha.”

A dramatic gasp and a hand over her heart did get a chuckle out of him. “You wound me Dorata! Would I really resort to such a barbaric thing as extortion to get a cookie recipe?”

His voice was as bland as oatmeal. “Yes, yes you would Sylvia.”

She would deny it to her dying breath, and there was absolutely no proof of such a thing happening, but a pout did make its way onto her face. “…. I did buy some of his cookies as well, for a taste comparison of course. That makes this better right? Actually, no, this was a very above the board transaction, no underhanded methods whatsoever.

Dorata chuckled again, pushing himself away from the counter as he did so and moved over to grab a spare apron. He tossed it over to Sylvia, who put it on and got to work. At their core, most cookie recipes have the same basic steps. Cream the butter and sugars together, add the eggs and other wet ingredients, mix dry ingredients separately, add the two together, and finish with any inclusions before baking. Once you knew those steps, you could theoretically make any type of cookies you wanted. It was a tried and true formula, one that the two friends knew intimately inside and out. This was a song and dance they had done together many times before, and they easily slid into a comfortable rhythm. One measured out the ingredients, the other combined them. One portioned out the dough, the other dealt with the dishes. One cracked jokes, the other tried and failed not to laugh.

It was while Sylvia was digging through the cupboards looking for the cocoa powder that she found it. The abomination. The item sacrilege to all things baking. With a deceptively mild tone to her voice, she turned to look at her misguided friend, the unholy ingredient held in her hand. “Dorata dear? Why the fuck do you have raisins in your kitchen?”

The tiefling in question looked up from the cookbook he was idly leafing through. “I sometimes use them in my oatmeal cookies. Why do you ask?”

She gaped at him, mouth actually hanging open. “Why do I… Why do I ask?? You poor, uneducated fool. You heathen. Raisins do not belong in any baked good. Period. End of story. Stop, do not pass go, and do not collect 200 gold.”

He gave her a blank, uncomprehending stare. One blink. A second. His brows furrowed in confusion. “It's just raisins Sylvia, I don’t see what's wrong with them. I mean, they're no chocolate chips, but they're not bad. Why are you so spirited about this?”

Her voice was drier than the desert. “If you think I’m spirited about this, you should hear Perse when she gets going.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He looks back at the cookbook, flips a few more pages, then stops and points out a recipe. Sylvia puts the raisins back and comes over to investigate. “These look interesting. Can you go see if I have any lemons?”

The rest of the day passed by in a flurry of baking, taste testing, and cleaning. They experimented with all sorts of different flavours, some were successful, some definitely were not. It was normal, it was routine, and Sylvia could practically feel the tension slowly drain out of Dorata’s body as the day went on. She smiled to herself. He wouldn’t be fine, not for a long, long time. But she would do what she could to help alleviate the pain, if only for a day or so. After all…

What else are friends for?

Notes:

Check out our tumblr for more content and to learn more about these characters, as well as the rest of the members of this fucked up little polycule.

https://nine-hells-and-purrgatory.tumblr.com/