V3 Incline 10: Nin

"R-Right! What... What can I do, then...?" I ask her as I idly set myself up near a bowl filled with an orangish sauce. The tool sinking into it makes it seem like it needs a helping hand, I think. However, her eyes are focused elsewhere on what seems to be an oven.

A finger bridges her lower and upper lip as humming thoughts escape her mouth, "Can you... Can you go over there to that bowl of dough, please? Clean and dry your hands, then just squish it a whole bunch between your hand and the bowl. Don't worry about mistakes, it's for Apahthein and I do not think I have ever heard him complain once!"

I smile as she laughs at the thoughts of her gaseous brother. Moving over to the named spot, I stare down at the ready-to-be-worked dough. Yet, even with her assurances, failure does not feel like an option for me. Just because the standard is low does not mean I am going to half-arse my attempt, menial as dough breaking is!

So, all I need to do is mould the dough.

Alright, I can do this. I can very much do it. I have no way of telling how well, admittedly as I've never cooked for myself in my life. The luxury of time was never there for me.

So, I look over to Motrtha as she seemingly does something similar in another bowl. Stretch it out, make sure the white stuff gets on it, and fold. That is what I can see. So I do the same, albeit clumsily as I notice the mess my bandage is building up.

With my left hand, I awkwardly push down on the dough which is probably the easiest part of the process. Its fingers sprinkle what dust they can and I tentatively pick up the stretched bulge. A hand not belonging to me joins in, filling in for where my right currently can't. My body stiffens as the goddess helps me even though I am supposed to be helping her.

"Good, good..." she coos as she leans away to grab something. A pale wooden board gently slams onto the side and she knocks a sieve over it, snowing it up. She guides my grip and the dough is dropped onto the board. I stare at her as she steps back a little to give me room to work.

"Now wh-"

"Put the dough on the board and make sure to get as much flour on it as you can. Keep stretching it out and carefully rub in the flour on the wet patches." she explains as I nod once and slightly.

"Ok..." I say, frowning in concentration, only to panic as I accidentally tear a hole in the dough and then more. I try to hide them but she just giggles and encourages me to keep on with the rolling and folding. Eventually, it starts to ball up and I am left with a powdered blob that is surprisingly smooth despite the folds still wrinkling it so widely.

"There you go, now, roll it back down with this." Motrtha tells me as she hands me a round piece of wood. I stroke its smooth, sanded-down surface before I place it anywhere near the dough. Putting it down on top of my work, I gently start to warp the ball down into a flattish circle. Is this what she wants, a circle?

Something presses up against my back.

"Yes, just like this. Yeah, you're getting it!" she cheers quietly as she guides me through the motions. She vanishes away and I turn to find her, with two bowls in both slender hands. One holds a jiggling mass of sauce and another has what seems to be shredded cheese. At least I am able to recognise something in this kitchen.

"I put these things on the dough?" I question as I dumbly stare at the bowl contents.

"Yes, but, for now, watch carefully. There's a specific order to it." she explains as she grabs onto a brush of some sort which she then puts in the sauce. Catching between the bristles, the excess lazily drips back into the bowl or onto the flattened dough. The rest is painted before she then puts the cheese bowl closer to me.

I stare as she smiles, guiding my hand into pinching some of the worked milk. As if I am a crane for her devices, she moves my hand about, prying my hand open over the increasingly covered dough. She grabs one end of it and encourages me to do the other and we start to roll it over. This edible, wrapped-up carpet oozes some of its contents and I try to squeeze it back in.

"It's alright, Dear, it doesn't have to be perfect, remember that. Come over here and hold this for me." she reminds me before going off to a suddenly rattling pot. Seemingly doing so awkwardly, she cleanly empties the pot of its boiling water without the lid falling away. Even though all she is using to keep it there are two little thumbs on either side. A pile of long and stringy food soon finds a home in an empty colander.

"What is this?" I ask as I watch her move around further. It's all so overwhelming watching her do it, I don't think I'd ever be able to amount to much trying it myself.

"Clohniq's spaghetti." she answers as she turns a small knob, clicking a ring of blue fire to life. A peculiar, bottom-heavy spoon goes into a simmering pot and comes out with a richly coloured mixture of mince. Its smell easily fills out my nose canals and I watch with some bewilderment as she throws away small bags of all things. She was cooking bags in this food...

People cook bags?

Her lips pucker as she tries the ladle's load, "Nin, would you like to try some? I need a second opinion."

"What is it?" I ask even though I am probably going to like it regardless of what it is. A goddess made it, the Goddess of Mothers made it!

"The mince to a bolognese, try it!" Motrtha answers and encourages with an open smile. A small spoon makes its way to my mouth and I refuse to let it go as the rich meat lingers in my mouth. I almost don't want to swallow and I am thorough with cleaning the spoon before it is pulled out.

"Good..." is all I can think to say as my closed mouth hides the actions of a flavour-addicted tongue. Every little bit on my teeth, all of it, I want it all!

"Is that all you have to say?" she asks with an increasingly cheeky grin as she leans in. Just as my tongue swipes the inside of my mouth, she pinches the outside. A gentle laugh escapes her as I jump ever so slightly at the unexpected action.

"Well... No... I just don't know how to articul-" I start to stammer out before my mouth is covered.

"It's fine, Dear, as long as you enjoyed it! Now, is there any grated cheese left from the pizza roll?" she asks me as I slowly look back at the revealed food perfect for Apathy.

"Not really?" I answer as I glance at the scraps clinging to the edge of the glass.

"Oh, that will do fine. Can you please leave it over there by the pot with the mince mixture." she requests and I do, with my eyes lingering on the pot as the rising, soft heat dislodges my brain's coherency.

"What's next?" I question as I rub some fingers together, it all looks done from here but I've barely helped at all.

"We go upstairs and make sure the table is set and ready!" she cheerfully explains as she picks up the fern-fuzzy-haired plant god in a pot on the way around.

"Hoo, hoo! HOO!" Pluuit lets out wildly as he starts to twirl some of Motrtha's hair. The goddess smiles down at her literally little brother and plays with his seed-freckled face.

Following up after them, my eyes widen a little at the lavishness of the impossibly long dinner room, "So... It all looks fine."

Moving to the edge of the grand table, I rest a palm on one of the chairs and look about. All of the spots to sit are different, each one is made of unique materials. The same goes for utensils and the table cloth is a patchwork of carefully woven colours. Gold, crystals, reds and blues...

Pluuit is set down into a strange contraption that keeps him from rolling onto his side and he hoots some more. Fruit grows from his body and he starts to munch on it carelessly as his sister tuts. In between the Plant God's snacking, Motrtha picks the other part of the flowering fruit from him. Decorating the table further with colourful, delicate things.

There are quite a few flowers... A lot of red ones, Roses... Roses, Rose'lhia. She's in a bed and my right arm is rising to be in view with my eyes.

I can't help but pair my fingers together and curl them like malicious claws.

"Nin, are you alright? You seem to be getting distant." Motrtha asks as she walks up to me. I turn to her erratically, surprised at how quickly she closed the distance that was just between us. A slight amount of red reflects from her eye and a face flashes in my mind. It's not one I was overly fond of, but, even then I... I...

When it all went foggy, that moment I probably became a monster...

I touch my eye as my face suddenly feels wet. I stumble backwards and look around confusedly. I shouldn't be here, Undwote should've... My gaze snaps to the chair near seven sets of floor-bound bowls.

I di-

"Hey, hey! It's alright, it's alright. What's wrong?" Motrtha reassures me as I am suddenly in her arms as I whimper. It keeps repeating, the noise of the bug I became, what must've been her screams, Rose's screams.

"I'm dead... I died... I became a monster and killed people... I am only here because I died... I shouldn't even be here..." I incoherently mumble as the shaking water around my eyes blurs all distant items. My body heaves and rocks violently yet it remains so still as well.

Why am I crying over Rose of all people? She's... Was...? She's just some thing that kept pestering me! She wasn't my friend and her feelings are entirely one-sided!

I don't know...

It's all been so hard recently and I am tired, but not even death is peaceful slumber. A terrible shift led to me going out into a place I should have never gone out to. I got stuck in that hive, inside and out and it all just built up... Then, when I finally get out, I'm on a timer before death...

I died.

"Shhh... Shhhh... It's going to be ok, Nin. It's going to be ok." Motrtha whispers as we rock back and forth, a loving prison enforced by her hug keeping me still. My body is weak, it hurts, its own weight hurts and my mouth is gaping for air. Her hand rubs through my hair, its warmth dexterity so noticeable.