Cooking is Simple Right?
Tony stared intently at the inconspicuous round bowl, his eyes dark and filled with unanswered questions.
With a single finger, he moved to touch the bowl in front of him. It was a bright yellow in colour, and cold to the touch. It also unnerved him, though he would never openly admit to such a thing.
“Sir.” Jarvis's voice broke out through the intercom. “Would you prefer for me to call for food instead?”
Tony shook his head, taking a deep breath. He could do this. It was easy after all and he'd seen it done loads of times before.
“It's his first meal here.” He grumbled out, still staring at the bowl, and feeling slightly irritated as it just laid there, taunting him. “The squirt should have a real home cooked meal, not some cheap take out.” He pouted, he wanted to amaze the kid, not accidentally give him food poisoning by feeding him some crappy food from a kiosk.
“Perhaps I should call Mr. Rogers then? I'm sure he would be more then willing-”
“There is no way that I’m going to give up to that old geezer!” Tony shouted out, offended. “He probably still thinks milk only comes from cows! I'm not letting him in here if my life depended on it.” He scoffed and moved to pick up an egg, staring at it in curiosity. “Besides, I watched several cooking shows last night, so this should be easy.” He grinned smugly. “I bet I can whip up an omelet and some Eggs Benedict before the kid even opens his eyes.
“If you say so sir.” Jarvis answered back, sounding unconvinced.
Loki woke quickly, the smell of fire panicking him as he shot out of the bed he'd been laying on. His heart thudded in his chest as he rushed out of his room, barely paying any mind to his state of attire.
The smell of fire was strong and the air was thick with smoke, he could barely see in front of him. There was a sharp ringing noise sounding loudly through the halls, making his ears hurt the longer he listened to it. Was this the horn they used to alert them to enemy attacks? Were they being attacked?! Had he truly been found so soon?
A water spell was on the tip of his tongue, when a small and rather pitiful sounding cough came from the odd dining area he'd remember seeing the night before. He rushed over and stilled at the sight he was presented with.
His new caretaker, a midgardian by the name of Tony sat on the floor, looking rather flummoxed. His eyes were wide with shock as he sat there, surrounded by flour and egg shells. Bits of yolk were dripping down his left cheek and his hair was matted with some thick substance that looked to be a mixture of flour and wet ingredients.
Loki looked around the small area, taking in the oddly coloured shattered bowl laying on the ground, the burnt and bended cooking ware and the hearth that was now pitch black and emitting a foul odor.
By the Norns, he'd never seen such chaos done in a cooking area before, not even when Thor demanded to be taught how to make the food for their daily fast break in the morn.
“Jarvis.” Tony spoke out quietly, drawing Loki's attentions back to him. “Call Steve please.”
“He's already on his way sir.”