hewhoworshipsthecrust | Labyrinthum Inbox

Mikey allowed himself a moment to take in his surroundings, quiet and smiling as his eyes flitted along every inch of Puck's home. He'd developed a bit of a fascination with seeing how people decorated their residences once his family had befriended April, eager to explore living spaces which differed from the sewers he'd spent his whole life in. It was a different world to him, always had been, and while he always made the most of his place under the city streets, he couldn't deny that a topside place was something special.

Puck's house was like him, pleasant and cozy, inviting. It looked well cared for, a space he'd made for himself against the backdrop of the world he'd been taken to. Everybody had worlds they'd been taken from and Puck had seemingly made the most of his little slice in the odd dream realm they'd been led to. For as far away as his true home was, the one he'd stitched together in the present seemed as good as one might hope for. Mikey hadn't done much of anything with the treehouse, but he found himself thinking it'd be good to take a page out of his friend's book. Perhaps he could get his hands on some paint and spruce the walls up a little.

"Some snacks would be awesome. I'm pretty much a bottomless pit. Think it's the whole growing teenager thing. I've almost always got room for good eats."

Michelangelo made way to the kitchen, taking a glance at the tomatoes Puck had set to boil, and imagining how good the sauce would taste. New York new pizza, but there was always something special about homemade.

"Anything I can do to help? I'm a pro at mincing garlic and chopping basil."

Some decorations and fostering the kind of atmosphere he wanted had helped Puck settle in. It wasn't the same as his home in Manhattan or his former one in Avalon, but it worked. Puck laughed a little at the comment about almost always being hungry and looked through his kitchen cabinets with a hum.

"Snacks, snacks.. Here we are. Nothing too heavy, but it should work to ease that off before we start working." He pulled down a bag of as close to potato chips as he could find in the area- still cut and fried potatoes, but more home-made than produced in a factory. The bag was tossed to Michelangelo before Puck looked back to the pot.

"Both of those would be helpful actually- I need to start getting the toppings ready. But that comes after some refreshments." Puck had grabbed himself a pack of candy, more for the sugar than the energy and unwrapped a piece to enjoy.

"This should be fairly easy, all things considered. Most of the kitchen work has already been done, so that's working in our favor."

Mikey caught the bag and tossed a few of the chips into his mouth, humming out a noise of satisfied approval at the perfect crunch. He'd never tried to make homemade potato chips despite having been curious and the taste of his snack had him considering it more. They were simply seasoned, but tasty nonetheless. He set the bag aside after allowing himself a few more bites, washing his hands thoroughly before he got to work.

Puck's kitchen was easy to navigate and despite how bulky his form was with his shell, Mikey noted that there was enough room for the two of them to work without bumping into each other. He peeled the garlic, pressing the flat of the knife down onto the cloves to crush them, before giving them a thorough chopping, the scent strong yet pleasing for a pizza lover like himself. He had a minced pile waiting off to the side in no time flat, moving onto the basil next, leafy green finely sliced.

"Need me to toss the dough, Puck? Promise I'm good at it. First time I made a pizza, I managed to toss the dough too far and it landed on Raph's head. He chased me around the lair for a good five minutes, super ticked off. Kinda surprised his hot head didn't cook the dough."

He laughed at the image, the prior melancholy of previous days silent, and thus allowing the shared memory to simply be a happy recollection.

"What toppings are we going for? Long as it's not anchovies, I'm down for anything."

"Not right this moment-" Puck answered as he turned to look. He'd expected it to take a little while to get the cloves and basil prepared. Seeing that he'd been proven wrong, Puck laughed. "Well look at your speed! Sure, the dough is over on the counter."

In a wooden bowl, covered by a kitchen towel since it was the closest Puck could get to plastic wrap, sat the dough. It had doubled in size as Puck had planned, and would make a decent sized pie for the both of them. There was also a medium flask of olive oil and a bowl of corn meal, roughly ground, but useable next to the bowl.

As Mikey shared the memory, Puck smiled. "No, hot heads don't actually cook food. I tried that once with one of my siblings- they just had raw egg on their face instead. I was thinking of pepperoni and there's some sausage, but it isn't ground." Puck gestured to a little ways from where he was standing, a few pepperoni and sausages, both not sliced, sat on a cutting board. There was a medium sized wheel of cheese and a hand grater that looked like it could be a door stop.

"Oh, no. I've never liked fish on my pizza!" Puck said with a shake of his head.

Puck clearly knew his stuff when it came to throwing a pizza together and Mikey was eager to get to work.

"Pepperoni and sausage is plenty fine by me, dude," Michelangelo told him, grinning over his shoulder as his friend kept at it with the sauce.

Making sure the surface he had to work on was reasonably floured up, Mikey got to work forming, movements practiced rather than unsure or clumsy. If he let himself zone out for a bit, he knew he could probably pretend he was back home in the lair, putting together a pie his whole family would absolutely decimate. He wasn't, though, and Puck's home wasn't a bad place to be at all. There was no scent of burning incense or sounds of Donnie's power tools echoing off the walls, but he find a brand new comfort in the sound of his newest pal moving around on his side of the kitchen, companionable conversation between them.

In no time at all, Mikey had the dough in the air, tossing it up and down with all the signs he'd done it dozens upon dozens of times. The scent of the sauce only continued to grow and Mikey could barely contain his growing excitement. He didn't think he'd ever gone so long without pizza before.

With the dough well and properly shaped, Mikey carefully set it off to the side and got to work chopping the meats, deciding there was no sense in pre-coating the pizza peel, if Puck had one, with cornmeal before all the toppings and sauce were ready to go.

There wasn't a pizza peel, but there was a thin baking tray that looked carved out of rock and sanded down. The closest he could find considering the way that time seemed to mash together in Somnius. Puck hummed as they worked, checked the sauce a final time and nodded.

"The sauce is ready, and you'll have to teach me how to throw dough like that sometime!" he complimented. With the pizza in the works, Puck took the hand grater and wheel of cheese and began to grate it over the pie after the wax had been removed. It was a little like resistance training and Puck chuckled at the memory.

"This will be good- it's been a few months since I've had pizza, and it's not common enough here that you can just go to a restaurant for it." Puck realized something and frowned a little. "Pepper flakes- Oh well, this has enough spice in it. No need to gild a lily."

"If we make pizza again, I'll show you how to toss dough like a pro!"

A generous helping of toppings had been gathered up thanks to Mikey's chopping skills, ready to go once Puck finished showering the pie with freshly grated cheese. He'd never gotten to grate a big cheese wheel like that, but he could imagine it was a lot more of an arm work out than the smaller blocks he'd gotten to use in the past.

"Hey, Puck, I'm grateful for all your hard work. Sorry. I know that was pretty cheesy."

Mikey chuckled at his absolute terrible puns, apologizing through his amusement, and once Puck had completed his task he got to work laying on the bits of sausage and pepperoni. He could tell just from the looks of the pizza and the smells that it'd be a delicious pie, fighting not to do an excited jig where he stood. He grabbed the baking tray, spreading out a layer of the cornmeal to help everything slide more easily.

"Somebody should really open a pizza restaurant around here. It'd be a huge hit. I mean, who doesn't like pizza or wouldn't love it if they finally got to try it. Maybe sometime, if we make pizza again, we can save some slices for some of the folks around here who've never had it?"

"Good, I could stand to learn!"

Which wasn't true, but Puck wasn't going to turn down knowing how to do more things. As the puns were made, Puck snickered. "You don't sound that sorry, but you shouldn't apologize anyway. It's not even a toss up."

He looked at Mikey and didn't say anything else for a moment before simply moving on. Puns weren't something Puck used a lot, but he had them in his metaphorical back pocket to use as needed. "Pizza does keep well enough, so saving some wouldn't be hard. The hardest part would be handing it out in time. As far as a restaurant, that's a lot of work behind the scenes. It's not like they can run themselves."

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