Chapter Text
007n7 shot up from his bed, breaths coming out in short bursting gasps as he tried to suck in greedy lungfuls of air. After a few moments passed, his body slumped over and he let out a groan. Was it bad that he didn't even know why this was? Probably, but he wouldn't question it. He couldn't find much in him to care about strange dreams when he's got shit to do later.
It was probably because of the horror movie Shedletsky had them all watch the other day anyways. Though he didn't blame the man, the TV only really aired things that contained horror or injury in it for some reason. 007n7 made a mental note to just stay away from it for a little while to calm down, he didn't need more nightmare material anyways. The rounds were enough for that.
He moved almost on autopilot as he dressed himself up for the day. Though when he opened the doors to the main cabin he snapped back into thought at the ringing silence of it all. Strange... usually at least three others would be up?
He decided to check his gui to what time it was– in terms of the rough schedule they put together that is. Time didn't really work as it should in this realm, so they'd roughly logged when rounds started and stopped to plan around it.
He swiped the top right of screen, getting rid of the visual of those three godsforsaken buttons and looked at the Accessibility screen. Grayed out names, remnants of the last round, remained on the page– but he focused on the upper corner instead.
'Really?' 007n7 groaned again when he saw that he'd woken up an hour earlier than he should've. Four hours before a round would wake him up better than three, sure, but it also meant that his sleep schedule would probably be fucked up a little. Well, it meant that, and that it was his turn to make breakfast.
Usually, Noob, Elliot or Guest were the ones to wake up with the metaphorical sun here, so they were usually on breakfast duty due to convenience. But now the usual roles reversed, leaving him uncharacteristically awake while everyone else was fast asleep on the living room floor in their fort. He guessed it wouldn't be too hard, but he admitted to be rusty with cooking. Whatever, he'd make it work.
His stepped quietly through the cabin as he made his way to the kitchen –wincing everytime a floorboard creaked, and when his bones made occasional pops– but he eventually made it with no casualties!
'What do we all have again?' He questioned, softly opening cabinets and looking into the pantry and fridge. There, unsurprisingly, wasn't much in them in terms of easy quick meals– but there were a lot of basic ingredients. It felt a lot like the thing stocking their kitchen was dangling the box of a puzzle set above their heads after dumping the pieces onto the floor. It was very, c'mon, you have all the pieces! Just put the image together! Of the entity, and 007n7 hated that.
He hated ingredient households. He thought the last time he'd ever be in one was that one time in the fourth grade when he slept over at a friends house for the first and last time, but alas. Here he was.
Making things from scratch was difficult, which was why he used to buy items with short instructions on the backs for him and kidd. But, even if he once relied on those things that didn't mean it wasn't impossible for him to make food by himself. It'd just take a bit of harder thinking, and some patience, to figure out what his options were here.
To start off, 007 noticed that they had the basics; flour, milk, eggs and sugar. That was good, great even, he could do a lot with that! Maybe biscuits and sausage? Wait– no. He's checked the fridge and freezer. Only chicken was thawed out, given that Shedletsky tended to make it for his lunches, and they didn't have sausage that wasn't frozen and ground so he couldn't just throw patties in the oven and call it a day. So maybe pancakes? They did have vanilla extract– though they've had those a lot recently, so maybe... 007n7 glanced at the waffle maker.
'Yeah, that could work... just need a side for it, though... wait– chicken's thawed, chicken and waffles? I think I can make chicken tenders– ah. But, would they eat chicken and waffles? Er... wait, would Shedletsky mind me using his chicken? Maybe not, I mean, if Shedletsky also gets to eat it –which hopefully he will– then probably not. I think he'd like it.' Assured in the inevitability of his foods consumption 007n7's hands were moving; grabbing mixing bowls bowls, utensils, plates, and ingredients.
007n7 hummed softly as he worked, it was a random familiar tune to him. It wasn't really one he could quite place, but he didn't care for that. It was simply just a tune he'd randomly acquired back when he first began cooking c00lkidds breakfasts. Though occasionally he'd get the sense that it had lyrics, but they always eluded him. Nevertheless, he hummed the strange tune anyways as he plated waffles and checked on the chicken.
He was so absorbed in all of this that he was unaware of the heavy steps thudding behind him on the wood. He only registered the presence of whoever this was when he jumped at the sudden pressure of a chest on his back and his hands crushed the tongs he was holding with his surprise, "who–"
Shedletsky slurred something unintelligible out into his shoulder in response, wrapping his wings gently around them. 007n7 nearly deflated in the mans hold as his heartbeat calmed down, adrenaline leaving him just as abruptly as it arrived.
Then suddenly, he stepped out of the admins hold.
Before the bird could question him, 007 turned around to smack the man right on his head. Shedletsky squawked in response, headwings flapping in shock while the ones on his back drew closer to himself instead. A few feathers fluttered around the room, but luckily none near the food.
007 didn't care for the man's pain though. Instead he gripped his chest with one hand, white knuckling the fabric of his vest as he yelled quietly at the avian, "you ass! Oh my gods... please never sneak up on me again! By Telamon... I feel like my soul was just ejected from my body..." he shook his head, and turned back to the stove. He quickly opened the waffle maker, took one out and poured more batter in. Then he stepped over to the chicken, removing one of the tenders from the oil to set it on paper towels and get rid of unwanted grease.
"Sorry, Seven," the man apologized, sufficiently cowed and now more awake than he usually would be. Then, predictably, his head turned to look at the plates, "that for us?"
007n7 rolled his eyes, turning to look at the man again, "'course it is. Who else would it be for? The killers? Help yourself."
Shedletsky grinned in reply, snatching four waffles and three tenders with a quick thanks. 007n7 rolled his eyes, going back to his cooking. As the room slowly filled with the chatter of early risers, he eventually calmed down enough to start up his humming again. He figured that as long as it was low it wouldn't be too disruptive of any conversations, and got right back into the swing of things.
By the time he'd finished off the everything and loaded his own plate, he noticed something strange. The room wasn't as loud as it was before. 007n7 snuck a glance behind him and noticed the quiet gazes of the admins next to him. No one else seemed to pay them too much mind, more focused on their own conversations than the lack of one near them.
He couldn't really read their faces well, and that made him nervous. He hesitated to ask, but it was better to get things over with than let it sit around his mind to keep him up at night later. His sleep schedule had been shit lately and he didn't need another contributor. So, he spoke up, voice low and unsure, "is, uh, is something wrong with the food?"
Shedletsky jolted upright like he'd been zapped, "oh! No, no! It's fine! Great actually, best chicken tenders I've had in a while! It's nothing really, we're just– ah, thinking about things. Yeah."
007n7 raised a brow, "really?"
Shedletsky nodded, and Builderman hesitated before doing the same. Dusekkar on the other hand still held the same expression on his face. 007n7 got the impression that he glanced at the two, before the pumpkin headed man let out a short sigh, "forgive my questions, as they may intrude; but it was the song that set our common mood." Shedletsky froze next to him, and Builderman looked away quickly, but Dusekkar continued, "we simply ask of where you heard; nothing too absurd."
007 blinked, this actually wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be, "you guys were wondering about the song I was humming?" Dusekkar nodded, and he laughed sheepishly as he answered the questions, "uh– sorry to say I don't actually know where I got it from... I just sorta picked it up one day while making c00lkidds breakfasts. Might've overheard someone else humming it on the street and gotten it stuck in my head. Ear worms, y'know?"
Despite his answer, they looked unsure, if not mildly disturbed, still. After a short tense moment, Dusekkar nodded, and went back to eating syrup drenched waffles– his chicken shoved to the opposite side of the plate.
Breakfast was a little quieter after that, but eventually things picked up the closer they got to the round start.