[Without missing a single beat in this train of thought-]
You put mayo in between your oreos?
[The side of Ryuji's mouth curls upward into a smirk. He knows what Dave was implying here, or, at least he hopes he does. There's always a chance the dude really does just dip his chocolate disks into the creamy wasteland of mayo, and then he won't know what to do with this information.]
...
[What the hell is a NOSH bowl?]
You keep talkin' about hatching eggs. The more you do, the more I'm kinda picturing your ass sitting on a bunch of twigs keeping some chicklets warm and effin' toasty, and lemme tell you, that is one hell of a messed up image.
[Dave just miracle whipped a touchdown right out of the park, slamming it into a basketball net in the parking lot from downtown. That is, to say, unfortunately. Nah, he doesn't really get it. And to be fair, Ryuji grew up eating mayo on a lot of stuff Dave would probably find all sorts of weird. Fruit salad consisting of bananas, kiwis, apples. Pancakes with kewpie mixed into the batter. Maybe it's a time honored tradition to eat that sort of stuff in Texas. Okay, he believes it.]
Whoa, sorry. Didn't mean to be culturally insensitive here.
[Goddamnit... NOSH bowl...]
Yeah, sure thing, mama bird. [And also, apparently, species insensitive.]
Eggs are really important to soup. It's like, uh. It balances out the broth since it's really rich. Kinda like harmony and melody to a song, y'know? That first bite of yolk enhances the flavor, but it's, uh. It's super precious since you only get one chance to experience it in the entire thing.
[He's getting so misty eyed about ramen, and almost romantically philosophic. Gross.]
[Dave was about to correct him on the mayoreos, until Ryuji went and started talking in a language that he really understands. a soft-boiled egg being a a harmonizer, or even a personal focal point in a song, isn't the weirdest metaphor he's heard.]
[it's like the drop that gets your heart rate going, or the way a singer hits that one note that keeps you hitting the repeat button until you give yourself melody fatigue. and for the songs that are really good? the ones that hit all the notes that you look for in music? that fatigue never lasts very long.]
[apparently being a mama bird aside, maybe that's why he takes a bit longer to scribble rhyming notes about the egg than he did the rest of the elements of this lecture.]
Okay, last question. What kind of bowl do you put it in?
[how ... is that at all relevant. but his expression remains unchanged — maybe he's actually serious about this one?]
Ryuji's lips part, eyebrows furrowing. It's just... it's a bowl. What else type of thing do you even call it? Suppu bouru. There's donburi, but that has a totally different style of connotation, and Ryuji struggles to find a decent answer to that. This isn't a joke, right? He takes a look over at Dave to discern any inkling of heckling going on right now, but he seems pretty stoically chill.]
Uh. Hm.
[There's cup ramen, too. And can ramen from some vending machines... but those never really tasted that great, and if Dave is going to rap up greatness, that detail needs to be left out entirely.]
It's... just a soup bowl? Or, maybe like, if you're into cup... ramen. I ain't really sure what you're askin' here.
[it isn't a joke, as absurdly like a joke as it sounds.]
Rhythmically speaking, the bowl's the most important part of this whole thing — like, I could either rap about all this stuff you've lectured on separately and it'd take a few days to get it all in one pot, or I could just rap about meaty explosions and throat-burning noodles all in a fancy as fuck bowl and get it done in one go.
[it's getting more absurd, isn't it?]
But if it's not anything special usually, I'll just have to improvise.
[This absolutely makes 0 sense to Ryuji at all, but he's not a composer and doesn't really get the process behind putting together a rap. He's decent at keeping a beat though, shit, he can do it with drumsticks or his own mouth- just doesn't see why Dave can't come up with something that walks through the entire thing in one stanza.
But... maybe it's meant to be that way. A good bowl of ramen, before served, isn't something you just throw together in a microwave and out pops greatness onto a ladle and nearly throatgasmic soul-rending satiation.
Fancy as fuck, though? The point is usually to keep it cheap, unless it's one of those shops in Ginza that offer the dish at a premium alongside tenderly cut pieces of fish and meal sets.]
You mean like a ceramic bowl? Or maybe... somethin' like a fine piece of China? You know the type, right? They're big and white and have blue imprints all over 'em with designs and shit. Totally catches the eye.
[Dave says, scribbling away in his notebook. he thinks he's got enough to work with now, and hopefully Ryuji doesn't die of boredom while he sounds out some verses? but great art and great rhymes take a few measures of patience and time, especially if you want to give a fix-what-ails-you bowl of soup a good start.]
[that is to say, this shit'll solve a roberculosis disaster faster than magic mom has heard, and god who the fuck is letting me write this shit]
[Dave stands up and starts pacing a bit, mumbling to himself. if Ryuji catches anything else he's saying, it'll likely be just as completely dorky as that stuff up there is.]
[and then, his task complete, he sets a bowl down on the counter in front of Ryuji. that ... sure is a bowl of ramen, all right. well, a test bowl of ramen — it's probably not a good idea to rhyme up a whole vat of the stuff without at least making sure it doesn't kill anybody or something.]
[things Dave completely nailed: - the egg. man, he put a lot of thought into making that egg perfect
things Dave got kind of? right - the flavor of the broth - the noodles
things Dave pretty much botched - forgot the seaweed - the meaty explosions. because the soup ... literally explodes ... not injury-inducing, though. it's an awful lot like eating a bowl of ramen-flavored liquid pop rocks.]
[Nah, he's not really bored. It's sort of amusing to watch him get down with his bad self, drumming the ghost of a beat down on the table lazily. Straight up chuckles like an idiot at some of the stanzas, too, but not in a "this is embarrassing" sort of way, since the rap he's used to back home is pretty absurdist compared to the type you'd hear coming out of Atlanta or something.
It's only when he starts taking this backstage that Ryuji stops being able to focus too intently on what's going on. His mind wanders off to his sick friends, and he hopes that whatever Dave is capable of whipping up is going to be something that they can consume to feel better about their (god...) roberculosis.
He's snapped back to reality by the slam... poetry made reality of a bowl in front of his face. Holy shit? HOLY SHIT. It smells right. It looks right. It's missing a few things, but for a first attempt, he's thoroughly impressed.
And then it hits him that he's supposed to taste test. Take the spoon right in and enjoy the soupy fruits of Dave's labor.]
Dude... you, uh.
[His eyes could practically start to well up as he heads over and grabs a spoon to get down and dirty.]
Shit, man, it ain't cool to cry in front of another guy, but I'm pretty close. [And digs right in, getting a sip of the broth. It starts to snap, crackle and pop, though, and Ryuji's face goes completely blank.]
What [pop] the [pop] hell. [He sticks out his tongue, and yeah, it's still crackling audibly.]
Aw shit, you gotta do this over. This ain't right at all!
[there's ... definitely something about the inflection of that one sentence that suggests making rice krispies ramen was not at all what Dave was intending. and that's only confirmed when he looks back down to his notebook and crosses out a few stanzas. okay, so the void takes the mention of explosions of any sort literally. good to know!]
[— wait, fuck. he should have remembered that from the time he made exploding coffee beans.]
[good work, Dave.]
Okay, well — is it cool aside from the fireworks? I've only got one more shot at this, so next one's gonna be big enough to feed at least a sportsball team of sick people.
[Best when forming contracts with the literal abyss to bring things into creation that you use very, very specific wording. The devil's in the details, they're all a very litigious and strict-reading type of civ. He has no idea who these things are or where they come from, but they can be a real pain in the ass.
The sizzling dies down though, so as a novelty, not incredibly bad. Not incredibly great either. People who are sick probably don't want to feel their throats crackling all the way down. Or maybe they do, don't ask Ryuji, he's not an expert in exactly eating healthy or being healthy or even doing healthy things.
That said, though. The egg was looks fucking fantastic. Those void chickens sure do know what's up. Ryuji learned somewhere that the best way to give negative feedback to someone is to try to offer a few positives so as not to crush them. Too bad he's horrible at actually applying that, because he meant to tell Dave that his work there looks solid.]
Baseball team.
[Let him tell you all about the Yomiuri Giants, Dave.]
Yeah, it's decent aside from the way that it kinda tries to literally attack your tongue. But, uh. Nice effort?
[He looks down at the bowl in front of him, shoulders squaring a bit.]
It's really cool that you're doin' this. Y'know, helping people who are sick 'n all. Other people mighta just shrugged it off and said deal with it, or... or something.
[he directs his gaze to the bowl, though, caught a bit off guard by the compliment. like, yeah, he's completely cool, thanks for noticing — but this whole ramen quest was sort of something he'd charged forward into doing, dragging Ryuji along with him, without really thinking about it first.]
[because there are too many sick people that he's kind of grown really attached to over the past few months. because he's already tried cold medicine. because he already tried waiting to see if Astoria would say something, or figure it out. he waited for about five minutes.]
[and, because.]
Had to try something. [his own fuck-ups the previous times he's tried saving someone notwithstanding. what he says next is also pretty candid, too, considering the really weird and sometimes missed jokes they've been lobbing at each other this entire endeavor.]
Dunno. I get that realistically, this probably won't cure anything, but if I have to pick between rapping about exploding soup or waiting for a solution, I'll always pick the sick rhymes. [well ... okay, even that awfully honest sentence is still said in a really weird and roundabout way. but the sentiment, the very protective instinct, is there.]
[and he wrinkles his nose as he chews like the thief he is — like those asshole friends who steal the crouton you were saving for last off your salad — the broth that was dripping from the egg he just rudely yoinked from the bowl crackling in his mouth. yeah, okay, next time, he definitely won't be making any mention of flavor explosions or meaty bursts.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
You put mayo in between your oreos?
[The side of Ryuji's mouth curls upward into a smirk. He knows what Dave was implying here, or, at least he hopes he does. There's always a chance the dude really does just dip his chocolate disks into the creamy wasteland of mayo, and then he won't know what to do with this information.]
...
[What the hell is a NOSH bowl?]
You keep talkin' about hatching eggs. The more you do, the more I'm kinda picturing your ass sitting on a bunch of twigs keeping some chicklets warm and effin' toasty, and lemme tell you, that is one hell of a messed up image.
no subject
[god. you gonna catch that joke, Ryuji? though, Dave sometimes lobs them overhead on purpose.]
[also, this is a NOSH bowl.]
That mental image is all on you, though. I'm just makin' sure I'm getting the full scope of how important an egg is to soup here.
no subject
Whoa, sorry. Didn't mean to be culturally insensitive here.
[Goddamnit... NOSH bowl...]
Yeah, sure thing, mama bird. [And also, apparently, species insensitive.]
Eggs are really important to soup. It's like, uh. It balances out the broth since it's really rich. Kinda like harmony and melody to a song, y'know? That first bite of yolk enhances the flavor, but it's, uh. It's super precious since you only get one chance to experience it in the entire thing.
[He's getting so misty eyed about ramen, and almost romantically philosophic. Gross.]
no subject
[it's like the drop that gets your heart rate going, or the way a singer hits that one note that keeps you hitting the repeat button until you give yourself melody fatigue. and for the songs that are really good? the ones that hit all the notes that you look for in music? that fatigue never lasts very long.]
[apparently being a mama bird aside, maybe that's why he takes a bit longer to scribble rhyming notes about the egg than he did the rest of the elements of this lecture.]
Okay, last question. What kind of bowl do you put it in?
[how ... is that at all relevant. but his expression remains unchanged — maybe he's actually serious about this one?]
no subject
Ryuji's lips part, eyebrows furrowing. It's just... it's a bowl. What else type of thing do you even call it? Suppu bouru. There's donburi, but that has a totally different style of connotation, and Ryuji struggles to find a decent answer to that. This isn't a joke, right? He takes a look over at Dave to discern any inkling of heckling going on right now, but he seems pretty stoically chill.]
Uh. Hm.
[There's cup ramen, too. And can ramen from some vending machines... but those never really tasted that great, and if Dave is going to rap up greatness, that detail needs to be left out entirely.]
It's... just a soup bowl? Or, maybe like, if you're into cup... ramen. I ain't really sure what you're askin' here.
no subject
Rhythmically speaking, the bowl's the most important part of this whole thing — like, I could either rap about all this stuff you've lectured on separately and it'd take a few days to get it all in one pot, or I could just rap about meaty explosions and throat-burning noodles all in a fancy as fuck bowl and get it done in one go.
[it's getting more absurd, isn't it?]
But if it's not anything special usually, I'll just have to improvise.
no subject
But... maybe it's meant to be that way. A good bowl of ramen, before served, isn't something you just throw together in a microwave and out pops greatness onto a ladle and nearly throatgasmic soul-rending satiation.
Fancy as fuck, though? The point is usually to keep it cheap, unless it's one of those shops in Ginza that offer the dish at a premium alongside tenderly cut pieces of fish and meal sets.]
You mean like a ceramic bowl? Or maybe... somethin' like a fine piece of China? You know the type, right? They're big and white and have blue imprints all over 'em with designs and shit. Totally catches the eye.
Anything rhyme with China?
no subject
[Dave says, scribbling away in his notebook. he thinks he's got enough to work with now, and hopefully Ryuji doesn't die of boredom while he sounds out some verses? but great art and great rhymes take a few measures of patience and time, especially if you want to give a fix-what-ails-you bowl of soup a good start.]
[that is to say, this shit'll solve a roberculosis disaster faster than magic mom has heard, and god who the fuck is letting me write this shit]
[Dave stands up and starts pacing a bit, mumbling to himself. if Ryuji catches anything else he's saying, it'll likely be just as completely dorky as that stuff up there is.]
[and then, his task complete, he sets a bowl down on the counter in front of Ryuji. that ... sure is a bowl of ramen, all right. well, a test bowl of ramen — it's probably not a good idea to rhyme up a whole vat of the stuff without at least making sure it doesn't kill anybody or something.]
[things Dave completely nailed:
- the egg. man, he put a lot of thought into making that egg perfect
things Dave got kind of? right
- the flavor of the broth
- the noodles
things Dave pretty much botched
- forgot the seaweed
- the meaty explosions. because the soup ... literally explodes ... not injury-inducing, though. it's an awful lot like eating a bowl of ramen-flavored liquid pop rocks.]
no subject
It's only when he starts taking this backstage that Ryuji stops being able to focus too intently on what's going on. His mind wanders off to his sick friends, and he hopes that whatever Dave is capable of whipping up is going to be something that they can consume to feel better about their (god...) roberculosis.
He's snapped back to reality by the slam... poetry made reality of a bowl in front of his face. Holy shit? HOLY SHIT. It smells right. It looks right. It's missing a few things, but for a first attempt, he's thoroughly impressed.
And then it hits him that he's supposed to taste test. Take the spoon right in and enjoy the soupy fruits of Dave's labor.]
Dude... you, uh.
[His eyes could practically start to well up as he heads over and grabs a spoon to get down and dirty.]
Shit, man, it ain't cool to cry in front of another guy, but I'm pretty close. [And digs right in, getting a sip of the broth. It starts to snap, crackle and pop, though, and Ryuji's face goes completely blank.]
What [pop] the [pop] hell. [He sticks out his tongue, and yeah, it's still crackling audibly.]
Aw shit, you gotta do this over. This ain't right at all!
no subject
[there's ... definitely something about the inflection of that one sentence that suggests making rice krispies ramen was not at all what Dave was intending. and that's only confirmed when he looks back down to his notebook and crosses out a few stanzas. okay, so the void takes the mention of explosions of any sort literally. good to know!]
[— wait, fuck. he should have remembered that from the time he made exploding coffee beans.]
[good work, Dave.]
Okay, well — is it cool aside from the fireworks? I've only got one more shot at this, so next one's gonna be big enough to feed at least a sportsball team of sick people.
no subject
The sizzling dies down though, so as a novelty, not incredibly bad. Not incredibly great either. People who are sick probably don't want to feel their throats crackling all the way down. Or maybe they do, don't ask Ryuji, he's not an expert in exactly eating healthy or being healthy or even doing healthy things.
That said, though. The egg was looks fucking fantastic. Those void chickens sure do know what's up. Ryuji learned somewhere that the best way to give negative feedback to someone is to try to offer a few positives so as not to crush them. Too bad he's horrible at actually applying that, because he meant to tell Dave that his work there looks solid.]
Baseball team.
[Let him tell you all about the Yomiuri Giants, Dave.]
Yeah, it's decent aside from the way that it kinda tries to literally attack your tongue. But, uh. Nice effort?
[He looks down at the bowl in front of him, shoulders squaring a bit.]
It's really cool that you're doin' this. Y'know, helping people who are sick 'n all. Other people mighta just shrugged it off and said deal with it, or... or something.
no subject
[he directs his gaze to the bowl, though, caught a bit off guard by the compliment. like, yeah, he's completely cool, thanks for noticing — but this whole ramen quest was sort of something he'd charged forward into doing, dragging Ryuji along with him, without really thinking about it first.]
[because there are too many sick people that he's kind of grown really attached to over the past few months. because he's already tried cold medicine. because he already tried waiting to see if Astoria would say something, or figure it out. he waited for about five minutes.]
[and, because.]
Had to try something. [his own fuck-ups the previous times he's tried saving someone notwithstanding. what he says next is also pretty candid, too, considering the really weird and sometimes missed jokes they've been lobbing at each other this entire endeavor.]
Dunno. I get that realistically, this probably won't cure anything, but if I have to pick between rapping about exploding soup or waiting for a solution, I'll always pick the sick rhymes. [well ... okay, even that awfully honest sentence is still said in a really weird and roundabout way. but the sentiment, the very protective instinct, is there.]
[anyway, Dave chickens chicken, chickening chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken chicken, chickening chicken chicken chicken chicken.]
[and he wrinkles his nose as he chews like the thief he is — like those asshole friends who steal the crouton you were saving for last off your salad — the broth that was dripping from the egg he just rudely yoinked from the bowl crackling in his mouth. yeah, okay, next time, he definitely won't be making any mention of flavor explosions or meaty bursts.]