Mar 23, 2024 22:13:57
⊛ The Final Boss ⊛ SWC Cabin Wars March 2024
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Lark06
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SIDE STORY: 513 words
for her birthday last year, lark had been given a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. they were really quite remarkably effective, she thought, unaware of the chaos happening all around the nearby camp.
rightly figuring that her cabin could handle the wars against the other cabins, lark had taken to the forest to make a traditional celebratory souffle. the premise of a campfire cooked souffle seemed slightly absurd, but how else was she supposed to surprise her cabin? it was, in hindsight, perhaps not the most considerate idea. but who had expected gurtle to attack? certainly not her.
so, right before cabin wars had begun, lark had scrambled to the nearby grove of trees, with her bag of baking ingredients in tow. she connected her headphones via bluetooth and scrolled briefly through spotify before settling on some folk. joni mitchell was back on spotify, and naturally she was perfect for this occasion.
there was the small issue of starting the fire, however. she'd watched enough survivor to have a vague idea of what to do, and she'd been to many a campfire, but it seemed like her glasses couldn't focus the sunlight enough to light the pile of twigs she set up. maybe she needed a better base?
she could have always run back to the dystopian cabin. she probably SHOULD have run back to her cabin, and then she would have noticed the epic battle going on. then she would have cast all thoughts of souffles aside, and joined in. but it was kind of a long walk back to the cabin, and she'd just gotten to her favorite song on blue. maybe she'd try just a tad more to make this fire all on her own.
so she started from the base up, beginning with leaf litter and tiny twigs, and progressing to logs and the like. it looked, by all means, like it could catch on fire. the problem was it wasn't. then, just as she'd begun to reconsider, a flaming chunk of debris fell from the sky, clear evidence of the gurtle's destruction. but also, on fire! a perfect little firestarter for her souffle. taking a branch and lighting it on the debris, she then lit her campfire.
sure, flaming debris was a tad concerning. but she chalked it up to standard cabin wars, and chose not to worry about it. after all, worry never baked a cake! or a souffle, for that matter. and she was going to make her celebratory souffle.
so she got out the frying pan from the parcel she'd brought, and began to whip together a mixture of eggs and other souffle-like ingredients. There were eggs and milk and flour, and all of those other things you need to make a soufflé, which, of course lark was perfectly aware of. placing the baking contraption she made over the fire and pouring the mixture into her pan, lark waited on her dish to rise. then she felt the ground vibrate beneath her. It was quite odd, and frankly would likely not be good for the soufflé.
for her birthday last year, lark had been given a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. they were really quite remarkably effective, she thought, unaware of the chaos happening all around the nearby camp.
rightly figuring that her cabin could handle the wars against the other cabins, lark had taken to the forest to make a traditional celebratory souffle. the premise of a campfire cooked souffle seemed slightly absurd, but how else was she supposed to surprise her cabin? it was, in hindsight, perhaps not the most considerate idea. but who had expected gurtle to attack? certainly not her.
so, right before cabin wars had begun, lark had scrambled to the nearby grove of trees, with her bag of baking ingredients in tow. she connected her headphones via bluetooth and scrolled briefly through spotify before settling on some folk. joni mitchell was back on spotify, and naturally she was perfect for this occasion.
there was the small issue of starting the fire, however. she'd watched enough survivor to have a vague idea of what to do, and she'd been to many a campfire, but it seemed like her glasses couldn't focus the sunlight enough to light the pile of twigs she set up. maybe she needed a better base?
she could have always run back to the dystopian cabin. she probably SHOULD have run back to her cabin, and then she would have noticed the epic battle going on. then she would have cast all thoughts of souffles aside, and joined in. but it was kind of a long walk back to the cabin, and she'd just gotten to her favorite song on blue. maybe she'd try just a tad more to make this fire all on her own.
so she started from the base up, beginning with leaf litter and tiny twigs, and progressing to logs and the like. it looked, by all means, like it could catch on fire. the problem was it wasn't. then, just as she'd begun to reconsider, a flaming chunk of debris fell from the sky, clear evidence of the gurtle's destruction. but also, on fire! a perfect little firestarter for her souffle. taking a branch and lighting it on the debris, she then lit her campfire.
sure, flaming debris was a tad concerning. but she chalked it up to standard cabin wars, and chose not to worry about it. after all, worry never baked a cake! or a souffle, for that matter. and she was going to make her celebratory souffle.
so she got out the frying pan from the parcel she'd brought, and began to whip together a mixture of eggs and other souffle-like ingredients. There were eggs and milk and flour, and all of those other things you need to make a soufflé, which, of course lark was perfectly aware of. placing the baking contraption she made over the fire and pouring the mixture into her pan, lark waited on her dish to rise. then she felt the ground vibrate beneath her. It was quite odd, and frankly would likely not be good for the soufflé.