[SNIPPET: “Buns of Steel”]
[Scene: Kitchen | 10:17 AM | Scent: Lavender, yeast, emotional regret]
Lorin moves with grace, spinning between the prep table and the wood-fired oven, sleeves rolled with ceremonial elegance. Her long bck hair is pinned up, though several strands have escaped in protest. She pauses, holding a silver tray of rising rolls.
Lorin (calmly, but firm):“Daka. You may not pre-baste the cinnamon buns with brandy. That is not a recipe. That is a liability.”
Daka, shirtless (as is narratively inevitable), wearing only an apron and his Big Belt of Swagger, leans on the kitchen isnd, one fist under his chin, the other stirring something that is very much not supposed to be steaming.
Daka (grinning):“Oi, but what if they’re emotional buns, yeah? What if the fvor’s trauma and the gze is yearning?”
Mel, sitting cross-legged on the counter near the herb racks, looks up from crushing a clove with the ft of her Gulthias Staff.
Mel (ftly):“You used salt instead of sugar. They taste like betrayal and beach sand.”
Daka:“Exactly. That’s narrative texture, that is.”
Krummar, standing on a crate, is attempting to knead dough while casting Guidance on himself repeatedly. His scale mail is dusted with flour. His camellia tattoo is smudged with yolk. He’s muttering to himself about moon phases and gluten alignment.
Krummar (shouting into the dough):“If the moon can raise tides, it can raise bread! You knead to believe!”
Melodia, already flustered from having to whisper her spellbook to a group of passing children, peeks her head into the kitchen. She’s glowing faintly from the cheeks, corset delicately ced, star-charmed garters just barely visible under her lic hem.
Melodia (softly):“Um… was someone crying into the pie filling again? Because the kitchen’s… humming. Emotionally.”
Everyone freezes. Even the pot stops bubbling.Lorin turns. Slowly. She stares directly at Daka, who is very clearly crying.
Daka (sniffling):“…They were gonna be ‘Sticky Longings.’ Like sticky buns, but y’know. Emotional.”[END SNIPPET]———-
[SNIPPET 1: “Krummar’s Business Pitch (Pt. 4)”]
Krummar, perched on a barstool too small for his god-battered confidence, sms a flour-stained book beled “Business For Dummies: Temple Edition” onto the counter.
Krummar (enthused):“Listen, what if the tavern does devotional happy hour? One gold off wine if you whisper your sins into the candle.”
Lorin, polishing a gss with mechanical elegance, doesn’t stop.
Lorin (dryly):“If they whisper sins into the candle, Daka will light it with his chest hair.”
Beat.
Daka (from the corner, flexing):“You say that like it’s not a value-add.”
?
[SNIPPET 2: “Mel and the Laundry Battle”]
In the back garden, Mel is locked in an emotional standoff with the tavern’s clothesline. It’s windy. Her forest-draped cloak is spping her in the face.
A pair of her pants is tangled in the branches.
A squirrel is watching.
Mel (low voice, threatening):“If you unleaf that branch, I’ll let you keep the sock.”
The squirrel chitters aggressively. Mel reaches into her belt and pulls out a thorn-whip spell scroll with all the calm of a woman about to mug nature.
?
[SNIPPET 3: “Melodia’s Garter Emergency”]
Upstairs. Melodia’s room. Early sunlight filters through her pastel curtains. Melodia stands on a stool, arms stretched as she tries to reach a hidden tin of cookies stashed in the rafters. Her garter strap snaps. A twang, a squeak, and her knees go wobbly.
Melodia (gasping):“Oh moons… my thigh just made a noise I’m not emotionally prepared for.”
Outside the door, Daka, passing with a pte of biscuits, freezes mid-stride. He doesn’t say a word. But his ears turn red. And he keeps walking.
?
[SNIPPET 4: “Inventory Check: Chaotic Edition”]
The party is gathered around the tavern table. Lorin is trying to catalog gear.
Lorin:“Daka. Your backpack lists ‘bagpipes’ but under function, you wrote: ‘portable liquor cannon.’”
Daka (dead serious):“Aye. Because it is.”
Krummar (nodding solemnly):“I saw it shoot cinnamon whiskey thirty feet.”
Mel (muttering):“He hit a gnoll in the eye. It cried. And then offered to parley.”
?
[SNIPPET 5: “Lust Layer Ambush”]
Daka, shirtless again (he swears it’s for combat readiness), walks into the main room doing one-armed push-ups. Melodia walks in behind him, tugs his pirate hat off, and puts it on with innocent curiosity.
Codex Trigger: Hat Hierarchy Protocol Activated.? Daka: Instant Lust Layer Spike? *Presence -2 until returned. Jealousy +1. Heart rate +700%.
Daka (shaky voice):“Oi—y-you can’t just—wear that. That’s—that’s practically a proposal.”
Melodia (wide-eyed, hat too big for her tiny head):“Oh… um… would you prefer if I gave it back with a bow or a curtsy?”
Daka (openly sweating):“…Whichever one involves pastries and you saying my name real slow.”?
[SNIPPET 6: “The Emotional Pastry Conspiracy”]
Lorin kneels in the pantry, her emerald eyes narrowed at a conspicuously empty pastry box beled “Melodia’s Moon Buns – DO NOT TOUCH (yes, even you, Daka).”
She exhales, calm and lethal. Then turns her head slowly toward the half-closed kitchen door.
Lorin (quiet fury):“Mel. Pn Pinecone.”
?
Cut to garden.Mel, perched high in a fig tree, holding a pinecone in each hand like holy grenades.
Mel (deadpan):“Confirmed. Phase one: guilt crust.”
She whispers to a beetle on her shoulder. It chirps, then vanishes under the floorboards.
Somewhere below, Daka starts sneezing uncontrolbly.
?
[SNIPPET 7: “Melodia’s Combat Practice (That Got Weird Fast)”]
The rooftop. Melodia, corset ced and moonstone choker shimmering with faint emotional energy, practices longbow shots into floating apples. Her thighs press together as she aligns her hips—graceful, arching, divine.
Krummar walks up mid-sentence.
Krummar:“If you flex your scapu at a 17° angle, you can channel radiant ki—*”
The apple explodes midair with a musical twang. A faint shimmer of star-glow ripples down her stockings.
Melodia (shyly, barely above a whisper):“I… didn’t mean to hum that loud.”
Krummar (blinking):“…I need to go pray.”
?
[SNIPPET 8: “Daka Learns a Word”]
At the tavern table, Mel is sketching a night hawk in her moss-patched journal. Daka leans over her shoulder, holding a mug of brandy and zero respect for personal space.
Daka (pointing):“What’s that?”
Mel (dry):“A screechgrit.”
Daka:“Screech… what? That a spell?”
Mel:“It’s a bird.”
Daka (nodding solemnly):“…Gonna name my fists that. ‘Left Screech,’ ‘Right Grit.’”
Mel (quietly amused):“You’d have to fp to use them.”
Daka (already fpping):“ScreeeEEEchGRIIIIT—”
Lorin walks by and sps him in the back with a dishrag so hard his belt jingles.
?
[SNIPPET 9: “Krummar’s Midnight Devotion (Accidentally Romantic)”]
Night. Rooftop. A pale blue tarp is spread like a sacred quilt. Krummar kneels on it, his vender-lic and camellia tattoos glowing faintly under moonlight. He’s whispering names into the petals sewn into the fabric.
Unseen, Mel watches from the tree nearby, her aura faint with curiosity and guilt. One of the names he whispers is hers.
A gentle pulse of scent—sunwarmed flowerdust—curls toward her.
She presses her hand to her chest. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. But a feather falls from her p.
Codex Trigger: Mel: Root-Soul Resonance → Emotional Imprint Zone Formed? Next rest in this spot heals 1 Axis point? Mel now dreams of the prayer from his perspective
?
[SNIPPET 10: “Lorin’s Softest Rebellion”]
After the tavern closes, Lorin tiptoes barefoot through the dining hall, her mismatched socks hidden under her skirt. She hums an old manor lulby under her breath as she lights candles with quiet fingers.
She stops at Melodia’s chair.
Pulls a ribbon from her memory box.
Ties it gently to the back of the seat.
Lorin (softly):“You don’t have to sing if you’re tired. But you’re still heard.”
She steps away, unaware that Melodia was watching from the stairwell the whole time, teary-eyed and trembling with one hand over her moonstone choker.?
