They Don't Serve Breakfast In Hell (open)

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Ben was discovering a lot of new things here. He’d yet to explore the mortal city nearby (San something) but that was on his bucket list too. For now, though, he’d content himself with this new home of his. He was learning so much. Coming here, he only knew the bare minimum about mythology. He knew who the Olympians were, who his mother was, and that was about it. Wow, did he have a lot to catch up on. There were special intro to mythology classes he was in and wow, they had some weird stories. Seriously, who came up with this stuff? And did people actually believe it? Well, that was kind of a silly question. He was surrounded by people who believed it. He was the odd man out here. Then again, he figured it was easier to accept something when you were learning it at the age of ten and your ideals weren’t set in stone than it was at the age of twenty when they pretty much were. And seeing as all of the rest of his classmates were half his age….

That aside though, he had discovered something else new: one could sneak into the kitchens fairly easily. It was 7:15 am and Ben had decided to skip the group breakfast in the mess hall in favor of doing it on his own. He hummed another of his new finds – a group called the Newsboys – as he sautéed some sliced baby portabella mushrooms for his omelet. This was going to be a real breakfast. “When the toast is burned and all the milk has turned and Captain Crunch is waving farewell, when the Big One finds you, may this song remind you that they don’t serve breakfast in Hell,” he sang along with the music in his head. It was a funny little song, but he rather enjoyed it. Peppy, even if it was a song talking about the death of someone more or less. They had given it a nice little positive spin. He went to check on the little ham chunks as he continued humming and singing interchangeably.

Tag: open
Word Count: 355
Notes: song

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Camp, New Rome, Somnia loved any place that he could be with his children. He loved them all dearly, they meant more to him then the sweetest dreams or the most rare of items. Dear, sweet, Miyuki was here at camp. His other children scattered about to the winds, but he still tried to make time for them. But he was quite content to explore the surroundings that his children had become accustomed to. He wanted to know their lives, their friends, and scare away potential mates because his children would always be the little boys and girls that he held in his arms on occasion. Somnia felt that his own children were more important than some stupid rule that the airhead of all kingly airheads would put in place. He understood why some of his children fought for the Titan Saturn, why he fought for the titan and why his children fought for camp. He did what he did for his family and no one could begrudge him that. His uncle and aunt both cared deeply for family as did his father. The older gods had more senses in their heads than some of the new-er ones. MAybe except perhaps Mercury. The light fingered god was quite family oriented.

The Mess Hall. The meeting place of the cohorts served by wind spirits. It was past time for breakfast so to hear the sounds of something coming out of the kitchen was quite surprising. Somnia raised an eyebrow as he went to inspect. What sort of creature could be rooting around the kitchens? A nymph? The odd Faun? His dear Miyuki did love to cook food so it might have been her. Silently, he stood there in the door way, watching the boy bop around the kitchen, singing at what seemed like the top of his lungs as if no one was watching. But he was silent. Dreams were like that anyways, the best ones were. Some dreams could be violent, loud and painful. But all of his masterpieces were quiet, happy, serene even. But silently he watched, focusing his mind. The Son of Juturna, Ben, if Somnia remembered the name correctly. The young man was quite curious. Somnia had more questions than answers about the boy. There were some gods who loved more questions, Somnia was not one of them. He loved answers, he loved having information. Information was worth more than money.

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Ben didn’t usually act like an idiot. His father, though, had encouraged individuality and fun, so that was what he grew up on. Usually when he was working in the bakery with his father growing up, they would end up in some horrible duet. Fun, but yes, horrible, seeing as neither could sing all that well. It was a blast though, and that was what mattered, right? Good memories. That was all he had now. Well, that and his father’s Bible, which he cherished almost as much as the good memories. So it fell to reason that here in the States, when he took up cooking again, it was with song. Even in the confines of Terry’s shop’s kitchen, he sang, if a little quieter. He liked to think he was better at it than he was when he was younger. Practice and all that. Plus, talk about all the new stuff he was learning here in the music area alone. France was so much different, especially small town Colmer. Paris might have had some of the huge variety they had here, but he hadn’t lived in Paris. He’d been to visit – who hadn’t when you lived that close? – but didn’t remember a whole lot except the lady with the dog who bit his hand when he tried to pet it. After all, he’d only been about nine that time, so scarce memories were to be expected.

Seriously though, why did sautéed mushrooms smell like, ahem, bodily gases? Never pleasant. But glory, did they taste good. He picked one out with his stirring spoon and popped it in his mouth. Hot! He took a step back and made a face, then quickly swallowed and laughed. His dad would have laughed, so naturally he did to. Times like these, he tended to pretend he was still with his dad, to keep him company, that sort of thing. He returned to humming the instrumental break in the song he was rather getting used to now as he went for the thawing shredded mild cheddar to make sure it was breaking up properly. One always needed extra cheese to make an omelet really good. Simple preference. Well, it looked like the cheese was coming along nicely, now for some ham cubes. He’d have to dice it himself, it looked like, but ah well, nothing he hadn’t done before. Easy pickings. He was going to get a knife to do just that when he realized he actually wasn’t alone. The corner of his eye betrayed a tall, rather imposing figure watching him. He froze in place. Was he in trouble? Maybe sneaking in here hadn’t been such a good idea. Though maybe he could make it up to the man. “Um, hello. Sorry, I-… I’ll be leaving just as soon as I’m done. I’ll clean up too. If… if you’d like to stay for breakfast, you’re more than welcome…” Yes, offering food was usually a good tactic when trying to avoid getting in over much trouble.

Tag: Somnia
Word Count: 502
Notes: This promises to be interesting!

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“Well well. What a curious creature.” Somnia said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched the boy with interest. There were plenty of thoughts that raced through the immortals mind as he watched him intently. There was much to figure out about the boy. Though whatever he was cooking smelled rather strange. He peered upwards, looking at the mushrooms in the pan. Ahh yes, he should have known. Those things had a quite distinctive aroma. But he watched as the boy popped a hot mushroom into his mouth and made a face. Somnia immediately gave a snort as he tried to cover it up quickly. That was a rather priceless look. He had seen that look on his children's face a time or two when they tended to get into something that they shouldn't have. It was quite amusing. Though to watch a child t hat wasn't his own, was odd. Not that he didn't watch children other than his own. He watched all through dreams and slumber. But it was odd for him to interact with them in the dream world, let alone the outside world. Though the smell that was coming from whatever it was this boy was making smelled heavenly. Somnia did prefer a steaming hot bowl of udon noodles or ramen, but whatever the boy was making smelled pretty decent.

“You're not in trouble boy.” He said as he watched him with that intent look on his face. Somnia could have repreminded the boy for being in the kitchen, it wasn't his place. He had half expected to see his own daughter in here but she wasn't. She probably was sleeping. Or Training. Or Both as the case might have been. Then he got an offer for breakfast. It would be impolite to turn down food. Well he never turned down food. Not that he ate to the same degree as Mercury did. But he did love good food and whatever this boy was making, it smelled divine. Somnia then pulled one of the stools surrounding the large cooktop stove and seated himself. “Breakfast sounds good actually. I had been hoping to find Miyuki here.” He said with a fondness in his eyes and voice. He hadn't exactly had an express need to eat, but sometimes he did just so other wouldn't be uncomfortable around him. He didn't have a need to breathe either, but he did that as well for the comfort of others.

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Ben was rather enjoying himself really. Cooking was his favorite pastime. It brought back wonderful memories of time back home with his father. And every time he mastered a new recipe or figured out one of his own, he liked to think his father was smiling on him from Heaven, proud. For now though, this morning’s particular endeavor was for the sake of having something really tasty to eat for breakfast. It was sort of a treat for himself. He didn’t usually cook for himself, so this would be different and nice. Getting to enjoy the fruits of his labor, not that seeing others happy and enjoying good food wasn’t just as good, but he was also hungry. While it smelled unpleasant now – seriously, why did mushrooms have to smell like a huge fart when they cooked? – he knew it would be wonderful.

Then he just had to nearly have a heart attack at the realization that he really wasn’t alone at all. Naturally, his automatic reaction was to worry he was in trouble. After all, he was not exactly here by permission. The man said he wasn’t, so he tried to relax. “Thanks, um…” So he didn’t know his name. In fact, he’d never seen the man before, but that really wasn’t much of a surprise. Okay, but that look he was giving him… like he could see straight to his soul or something. Little creepy.

He agreed to breakfast, which was good. Took away some of the awkward. Or… prolonged it. Whichever. “Okay, great, just give me about five more minutes and I’ll have an omelet for you.” He set back to work, mixing the eggs in a bowl. “Don’t think I know anyone named Miyuki, but after breakfast, I can help you look for her if you like. I’m Benjamin, by the way. Everyone calls me Ben though. Ben Penington. Fifth cohort, son of Juturna, and whatever else I’m supposed to say in my introduction.” He was slightly joking in his strong French accent, hoping this man had at least a little bit of a sense of humor. Pour the eggs in the pan and let them cook a minute or so before starting to add the other ingredients like little ham cubes and the mushrooms and plenty of cheese. “If you want, I can fix you one of my specialties. I prefer pastries really, usually. So just feel free to stop by the Tasty Coffee Mug and ask for me anytime.” He finished up the first omelet and dished it, grabbing a fork and offering it over. “Bon appetite.” He smiled, then went to work on his own breakfast.