Qubit follows him into the kitchen, mildly amused at being given the guided tour as if he didn't just get done building the place. (He does not remind Carlisle of this.)
It's a very different atmosphere in here compared to the cavernous dining hall. It's smaller, but cozy, rustic - it feels actually lived-in, unlike most of the house. There's even a fire in the hearth already, as if Carlisle had only stepped out of the room for a moment.
Qubit wanders the room, casually eyeing the ingredients along the wall, some familiar, some strange. But his eyes soon land on the tea set again - an oddity here, to be sure. The estate has its share of expensive-looking furnishings, of course, but very few of them live in the kitchen. The pots and pans, while sturdy, are very much unembellished, whereas the tea set just screams "Rococo."
(Or is it "Baroque?" Whatever, it's one of those old French art movements. They all look alike to him.)
At the mention of cooking, though, he perks up, the tea set practically forgotten.
"Oh?"
In all the time they've known each other, Qubit and Carlisle have never really talked about food. Not to say it's never come up, but Qubit's done his best to sidestep it when it does. It'd feel awkward at best, maybe even cruel, like discussing a painting gallery with someone who's just gone blind.
But now that Carlisle's brought it up, it's different. Qubit's interest is immediately obvious - the eager glint in his eye is the same one you'd normally see when he's talking about SCIENCE.
"You might be surprised," he says, leaning on the counter with one hand. "I'm nothing if not an adventurous eater."
no subject
Qubit follows him into the kitchen, mildly amused at being given the guided tour as if he didn't just get done building the place. (He does not remind Carlisle of this.)
It's a very different atmosphere in here compared to the cavernous dining hall. It's smaller, but cozy, rustic - it feels actually lived-in, unlike most of the house. There's even a fire in the hearth already, as if Carlisle had only stepped out of the room for a moment.
Qubit wanders the room, casually eyeing the ingredients along the wall, some familiar, some strange. But his eyes soon land on the tea set again - an oddity here, to be sure. The estate has its share of expensive-looking furnishings, of course, but very few of them live in the kitchen. The pots and pans, while sturdy, are very much unembellished, whereas the tea set just screams "Rococo."
(Or is it "Baroque?" Whatever, it's one of those old French art movements. They all look alike to him.)
At the mention of cooking, though, he perks up, the tea set practically forgotten.
"Oh?"
In all the time they've known each other, Qubit and Carlisle have never really talked about food. Not to say it's never come up, but Qubit's done his best to sidestep it when it does. It'd feel awkward at best, maybe even cruel, like discussing a painting gallery with someone who's just gone blind.
But now that Carlisle's brought it up, it's different. Qubit's interest is immediately obvious - the eager glint in his eye is the same one you'd normally see when he's talking about SCIENCE.
"You might be surprised," he says, leaning on the counter with one hand. "I'm nothing if not an adventurous eater."