[There is something utterly charming about her being so organized about what some might dismiss as a terribly simple task, and his grin tugs to one side as he takes up his station beside her, looking to her for direction— he's at her service, after all.]
A spin? I'm very interested to hear what you have in mind, professor.
[How ambitious are these sandwiches of theirs going to get? Unless she intends to make a game of it, of sorts‐ color him curious.]
[He lets out a thoughtful hum, both amused and appreciative of the suggestion, though his brow furrows in an exaggerated manner as he reaches for the bread.]
We'll have to take care, however. I don't know that I would wish an Astarion-inspired sandwich on anyone.
[His voice remains full of warmth as he teases; actually, he can already think of a few ingredients his old friend might approve of. Surely, the man would demand anything he inspired be for an elevated palate.]
I feel like an Astarion-inspired sandwich could go either way. What I do know is that he'll take personal offense if the sandwich modeled after him isn't up to his standards when he sees it in your group chat.
[He's so fussy (but so is she and that's why they both clash).]
That's why you'll make that one. I'll start on Oren's and Berna's instead.
[Oren's will be easy, he is a minimalistic man, Berna's will be... A lot.]
Bold is one way to put it. She's the type to change her mind on a whim, but if there's a constant in her sandwiches, she loves having kettle baked potato chips inside and a numbingly spicy sauce.
[Amelia may or may not have accidentally eaten a sandwich with those ingredients...]
The former is a textural nightmare for me, even if I understand the vision. As for the latter, I'd like to think my tolerance is decent, but I don't know how anyone can be in pain and think that's delicious.
[Despite his best efforts, he cannot help but make a face that's caught somewhere between distaste and concern.]
I'm generally not one to decry the tastes of others, particularly when I've not had the chance to try for myself, but perhaps she's able to tolerate it because she burned her tastebuds away ages ago.
[At this point, it must only be a light tingle.]
Noted, however; I'll be cautious when sampling the Berna. What do you think would best represent Oren?
[Amelia opens her mouth and then closes it, furrowing her brows together as if it just suddenly occurred to her that he would be a strange challenge on his own.]
You know, that's—
[She looks at the slices of bread she's just started to prep for Berna and then looks at Gale with an uncharacteristic sheepishness.]
I'll just make it the same as Berna's. Probably even spicier.
[never forget his chili flake covered pizza slice]
Oddly enough, it feels rare to actually see him eat and when I do, his taste doesn't seem consistent with his actual cooking.
[Gale shakes his head as he chuckles again, reaching for a knife as he shoots her a knowing smile.]
Said with all affection, of course. His passion for cooking was made quite plain; it's interesting to hear that his tastes seem to deviate. I did see him perform quite a transformation on a slice of pizza, so I will say that spicier does seem to track.
[He will never, never forget.]
I've spoken with him on more occasions than I could count, at this point, and I'm still not convinced that I know any more about him than I did last fall.
Extremely. I know him, but I don't know him if you understand what I mean. Only Berna does.
[Berna and Oren and specific nature of their relationship continues to confound everyone, even Amelia, to this day.]
Ah, well. He still makes good company in his own unique way. He's also dependable in every other odd situation too, so you can reach him for anything you need, now that you have his number.
[Amelia will just finish up both the Berna and Oren sandwich, the latter getting a heavy drizzle of hot sauce.]
Alright, your turn. What will a Dr. Tara Prescott sandwich consist of?
Very interesting fellow. It sounds like getting to know him better is going to be an even greater challenge than I first anticipated. Of course, I do like a challenge.
[He casts her a smile as he finishes cutting half of an apple into thin slices, still putting the finishing touches on an apple-and-brie sandwich he thought might appeal to Astarion's palette. He hums thoughtfully as he considers her next question, eyeing their assembled ingredients as he considers.]
Tara would have to be something classic, with how she presents herself. First instinct is egg and cress, but that might be a little too British for this occasion. [He remains cheerful, poking a bit of fun at the fact that he immediately thinks of his country of origin.] Not to mention, while Dr. Prescott herself is a classic, she wouldn't appreciate being considered so predictable— she needs something of a kick.
[He neatly slices the Astarion sandwich in half diagonally, setting it aside to start on the next.]
Roast beef with horseradish, I think. I'm sure you've seen by now that the old girl has some spice to her.
[Calm down, one might say, it's just sandwiches, but Gale's enthusiasm has always been so painfully genuine that it can only persist. Brightly, he reaches for the jar in question, helping himself to a pickled pepper before he actually spears a few for the sandwich.]
A bit of unexpected sweetness to go with the spice. I think that suits her quite nicely. You're going to have a few days of very adventurous eating by the time we're through, I think.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Thanks. I'll be taking full advantage of your service so you can earn your recovery time while I'm away.
[The spreads are all ready and she starts categorizing the vegetables and meats.]
Additionally, I also propose a spin on the sandwich-making.
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A spin? I'm very interested to hear what you have in mind, professor.
[How ambitious are these sandwiches of theirs going to get? Unless she intends to make a game of it, of sorts‐ color him curious.]
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[She almost sounds pleased with the idea since she usually isn't this playful.]
It's a little abstract, I'll admit, but I think it could be a good exercise for our imaginations.
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[He lets out a thoughtful hum, both amused and appreciative of the suggestion, though his brow furrows in an exaggerated manner as he reaches for the bread.]
We'll have to take care, however. I don't know that I would wish an Astarion-inspired sandwich on anyone.
[His voice remains full of warmth as he teases; actually, he can already think of a few ingredients his old friend might approve of. Surely, the man would demand anything he inspired be for an elevated palate.]
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[He's so fussy (but so is she and that's why they both clash).]
That's why you'll make that one. I'll start on Oren's and Berna's instead.
[Oren's will be easy, he is a minimalistic man, Berna's will be... A lot.]
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I'll have to take exceptional care with it, in that case. One never wants a scornful lawyer on their hands, I much prefer having him in my corner.
[He casts her a sly, sidelong glance as he looks over the various ingredients and spreads she's set out for them.]
I'm interested to see what you come up with. Berna's would have to be full of bold flavors, I think.
[There's nothing understated about that woman— to her credit, of course.]
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[Amelia may or may not have accidentally eaten a sandwich with those ingredients...]
The former is a textural nightmare for me, even if I understand the vision. As for the latter, I'd like to think my tolerance is decent, but I don't know how anyone can be in pain and think that's delicious.
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I'm generally not one to decry the tastes of others, particularly when I've not had the chance to try for myself, but perhaps she's able to tolerate it because she burned her tastebuds away ages ago.
[At this point, it must only be a light tingle.]
Noted, however; I'll be cautious when sampling the Berna. What do you think would best represent Oren?
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[Amelia opens her mouth and then closes it, furrowing her brows together as if it just suddenly occurred to her that he would be a strange challenge on his own.]
You know, that's—
[She looks at the slices of bread she's just started to prep for Berna and then looks at Gale with an uncharacteristic sheepishness.]
I'll just make it the same as Berna's. Probably even spicier.
[never forget his chili flake covered pizza slice]
Oddly enough, it feels rare to actually see him eat and when I do, his taste doesn't seem consistent with his actual cooking.
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[Gale shakes his head as he chuckles again, reaching for a knife as he shoots her a knowing smile.]
Said with all affection, of course. His passion for cooking was made quite plain; it's interesting to hear that his tastes seem to deviate. I did see him perform quite a transformation on a slice of pizza, so I will say that spicier does seem to track.
[He will never, never forget.]
I've spoken with him on more occasions than I could count, at this point, and I'm still not convinced that I know any more about him than I did last fall.
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[Berna and Oren and specific nature of their relationship continues to confound everyone, even Amelia, to this day.]
Ah, well. He still makes good company in his own unique way. He's also dependable in every other odd situation too, so you can reach him for anything you need, now that you have his number.
[Amelia will just finish up both the Berna and Oren sandwich, the latter getting a heavy drizzle of hot sauce.]
Alright, your turn. What will a Dr. Tara Prescott sandwich consist of?
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[He casts her a smile as he finishes cutting half of an apple into thin slices, still putting the finishing touches on an apple-and-brie sandwich he thought might appeal to Astarion's palette. He hums thoughtfully as he considers her next question, eyeing their assembled ingredients as he considers.]
Tara would have to be something classic, with how she presents herself. First instinct is egg and cress, but that might be a little too British for this occasion. [He remains cheerful, poking a bit of fun at the fact that he immediately thinks of his country of origin.] Not to mention, while Dr. Prescott herself is a classic, she wouldn't appreciate being considered so predictable— she needs something of a kick.
[He neatly slices the Astarion sandwich in half diagonally, setting it aside to start on the next.]
Roast beef with horseradish, I think. I'm sure you've seen by now that the old girl has some spice to her.
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[Behind that spiciness and refined taste, is a sweet woman after all.]
It sounds like something she would eat.
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[Calm down, one might say, it's just sandwiches, but Gale's enthusiasm has always been so painfully genuine that it can only persist. Brightly, he reaches for the jar in question, helping himself to a pickled pepper before he actually spears a few for the sandwich.]
A bit of unexpected sweetness to go with the spice. I think that suits her quite nicely. You're going to have a few days of very adventurous eating by the time we're through, I think.