︾

the ingredients promptly exploded out of maddonis's hands like a bad cartoon, and then he got onions in his eyes, and then he got garlic in his eyes...

as maddonis went to go wash his eyes out, mcflurry finished up the onions and went to go finish the garlic on her own.

"you've, uh. never mccooked, have you? not even once?"

mcflurry sighed, smashing through a clove of garlic and moving onto the next. she was... well, concerned. she'd never seen a rich boy get so affected like that.

well, they were human too. mcflurry patted his back and gave him a smile over his shoulder.

"if you -- if you want, you can just mcwatch and, uh, take notes. we can get mcpractical next, next time."

@maddonis ● she's fairly nice

❧

mcflurry squinted, getting the gist of what he was saying, because she was getting pretty tipsy as well. well, at least he caught on -- by pure luck, but still.

but she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and she'd known more than a few frat boys and sorority girls drunker and dumber than him. all that really mattered for a one-night stand was how good they looked, anyways, and billi, well.

solid 9/10, on the physical appearance scale.

throwing back her last drink, mcflurry's reddening face gave billi a smirk, before putting a hand on billi's knee, leaning closer, just enough that her cleavage showed.

"i'd mclove it."

the drinks were paid for, the club was deserted, there was a taxi ride, and all anyone could hear when the hotel doors closed was midsummer madness.

Billi Marsh ● hot and spicy

︾

mcflurry was a patient teacher, luckily. there wasn't an iota of judgment in her body as he answered dumbly.

"w-well, yeah, but it's -- you turn the heat medium-high until you're at mcboiling point."

with that, mcflurry started the fire, putting it at a higher temperature. she quickly grabbed a good amount of salt and dropped it into the pot before putting a lid on it.

"once you're boiling, you put it on mclow to keep it there without, -- without burning shit."

mcflurry made eye contact with maddonis for a brief moment as she unwrapped several vegetables and cans and shakers. onions and garlic, salt and pepper, tomato sauces.

"we're, uh. doing mcspaghetti first."

with that, she slid maddonis the box of garlic cloves, and then a hammer.

"smash -- smash those mcgarlic cloves flat for me and we'll start working on, on sauce."

mcflurry herself was already peeling into an onion, a knife at her side. it was obvious she planned on cutting into it.

@maddonis ● time to cry through biochemical means

︾

"yeah, but, mm. you should -- you should stay a lil' sober to mclearn this."

an obvious thing to point out. not that she didn't like a drink while she was cooking -- in fact, she did that pretty often. but teaching and learning was something that should be done while not plastered, she'd learnt in the past.

mcflurry went rifling and clattering through maddonis's cabinets, grabbing whatever she could in terms of necessary pots, skillets, cutlery, cutting boards, the sort. soon enough, his center counter was completely covered in measured out water, oil, and ingredients.

as mcflurry turned her back to him to roll up her sleeves and wash her hands, she immediately started drilling him.

"you gotta... you gotta do everything i do for the mccooking process. you make sure you have mceverything you need for the mcrecipe in one place -- that's called mise en place. and you mcwash your hands no matter what."

and then mcflurry's arms flexed in a rare moment of attractiveness as she grabbed a pot full of water, lifting it and setting it on the stove.

"mmkay. pop mcquiz. how do you boil water?"

@maddonis ● literally step 1 in the process

︾

[ copypaste error occured, and a new post was overwritten over the old post. in essence:

mcflurry enters, bringing groceries. she notes maddonis's wealth at a glance.

mcflurry introduces herself and explains her verbal tic. she then asks maddonis to help her unpack the groceries, which turn out to be ingredients for pasta.

mcflurry then explains that they're going to be cooking pasta in fiorelian/italian. ]

@maddonis ● tommytoes

︾

the woman starts genuinely answering his meaningless question without fail.

"oh, uh, i think you gotta mctake him to a place -- there's a special mctool for that, since the iron mcfillings are, uh. -- oh!"

mcflurry nearly blushes as big strong arms wrap around her and push her forward, and being the horny idiot she sometimes is, she can't help but comment.

"if you wanted a mcquickie, you could have just asked --"

but her far-too-forward flirting is quickly cut off by the glittering prizes. specifically, the fishes. the alolan golem follows quickly behind the two of them, still deactivating every camera in the vicinity.

"right, mckay. let's just..."

with another thrown poke ball, an ARCTOZOLT fills up the room, making it a tight fit as mcflurry squeezes to avoid its rear end.

"bolt -- bolt beak!"

the dinosaur quickly sticks its BOLT BEAK in the aquarium and fries all the magikarp within into unconsciousness, ripe for the catch. thankfully, the arctozolt is returned to its ball just as quickly.

elijah gardner ● HOOH YAH TORIYAH

︾

mcflurry was tired and she was worn out and everything has been exhausting. but the pain was going away slowly, and she was getting used to the numbing agent, and she was beginning to stop thinking because for the first time in forever she felt like she didn't need to be constantly awake in order to escape death.

so mcflurry just faced the lovely white ceiling as her soul finally unraveled itself and stopped screaming, and her being decided to start fading into the sweet, gentle darkness known as sleep.

questions?

"i don't -- mmc, i don't know why he didn't. didn't... mm, kill me like he said he would."

but this was all said between a fading consciousness and a bare attempt to hold her verbal tic back.

soon enough, mcflurry was wheeled away to intensive care, without any room for response.

Wendy Peterson Cillian Quinn ● ...

︾

unfortunately, sylveons also sense feelings incredibly well.

the sylveon would jolt back from mcflurry's arm upon first touching it, as though it was just yelled at. and, really, it was -- it was the equivalent of opening a door and finding just. a person constantly fucking screaming, because they were terminally scared of thin air.

however, it seemed that the sylveon's effects were working their way through mcflurry's system, and mcflurry's heart rate finally picked back up, and the pained expression on her face seemed to dissipate.

(if a heart monitor were attached, it would have noted that mcflurry was about to go into cardiac arrest from low blood pressure and trauma. lucky that didn't happen, right?)

but mcflurry was nothing but a toy for shitty little rockets to have their shitty little melodramas over, and she knew it. she couldn't do anything here. she couldn't -- couldn't say anything.

couldn't fight these assholes just to prove a point, like she so desperately wanted to in the back of her mind.

(a legendary dog looked her in the eyes -- she couldn't speak -- everything felt numb --)

mcflurry's blood clotted easily under the gauze, and it seemed that her body was stabilizing. for now. still deathly pallid, still chalk white, still missing enough blood that she could put it all in a pot and boil it up and serve up for dinner.

these rockets would do that, the sick fucks.

but mcflurry was afraid of the monsters outside of her eyelids more than she was indignant, so she tried her best to keep calm and stay still.

unfortunately, mcflurry's also a dipshit idiot, and decided to open her glassy eyes and make eye contact with the person operating on her.

ah. there goes her heart rate again.

Wendy Peterson Cillian Quinn ● ...

︾

fear. fear was the only thing that clutched mcflurry's heart. the same fear the plagued her the moment she signed up for this job, the same fear that forced her to take this job. anxiety. stress. despair. fear.

she needed to stop moving. she needed to stop moving. stop moving. mcflurry put all her effort into not moving, made easier by the sedative, but the fear -- it still clutched her. she couldn't think properly.

so, even as her body went corpse-rigid, as her already breathless whimpers reduced to absolute, clinical silence, as the surgeon herself started threatening to practically kill her if she didn't start moving...

that fear, that instinct, it still roiled through her. mcflurry couldn't focus on anything else but fear, the need to survive, the need to do anything to survive, just live, survive, don't die, survive, survive, survive, survive --

a capture styler from fiore was pressed into her body through her pocket as she needed to survive --

she needed to survive, survive, fight, survive, survive, survive --

the mega styler's key stone flashed as mcflurry's soul balled up and shivered and whimpered and threatened to self-implode in an attempt to survive --

("capture on!", she'd hear the pokemon rangers from her home say, as they saved her from the spearows and put out fires,)

the nearby metagross would feel a pull -- invisible, indescribable. something screamed at them to do whatever it took to survive, before it silenced itself just as quickly, like a door slamming shut --

mcflurry's body stayed corpse-rigid.

Wendy Peterson Cillian Quinn ● ...

︾

the sensation of being laid down on a table wasn't foreign to mcflurry at all -- she'd had her fair share of injuries, both in rocket and out of it -- but it took her a solid moment to process that it was happening. because of the blood loss, and all.

but mcflurry could barely, just barely, figure out what was going on, even if her vision was going in-out-in-out and everything was looking like some freaky video game version of dying.

the smaller woman swallowed down something when she vaguely hears 'stay still' somewhere to her left, and her body relaxed -- before it suddenly tensed up, the now-comfortable feeling of cold suddenly melting away and exposing her to painpainpainPAINOWOWOWOWOW --

and there comes the blood, the ice stopping the flow now gone -- it's slow, but it's there --

a needle went in, but it really wasn't anything compared to the giant spike in her arm. that shit was getting to her, judging by the way her not-fucked-up arm is tensing and clenching and shaking, by the way she was sweating and clenching her teeth.

terrible at following orders, that mcflurry.

in the meantime, the wormadam at her side decided to give one last cry of disdain towards gavin, indicating something -- before returning to its poke ball.

Wendy Peterson Cillian Quinn ● ...