Your OC Makes Dinner

Chase sat at the table. He wasn't sure what brought him here, or how he accepted to have a meal cooked for him, but he was here nonetheless. He heard noises coming from the kitchen. Abnormal ones. Was the chef okay...?
Suddenly, Purpura stepped out, stains covering his body and two hands holding two plates of a... sad slice of cake. Chase stared at the baked treat set down before him. And he continued staring at it. When he looked back up, he hesitated to see the chef staring at him expectantly. "Sorry," he said with a sheepish smile behind his scarf. "I don't like eating in front of others. It's strange, I know, but it's a... personal preference." When Purpura reluctantly turned, Chase stared back at his meal. It was true that he didn't like eating out of not wanting his scar to be visible, but this... this didn't look quite appetizing. Was that a... Was that a leaf sticking out of the mix? Was this fully cooked? He picked up his fork and sank it into the dough. Uncooked egg yolk seeped out. Chase gulped. He would undoubtedly be sick for a week if he were to eat this. Looking up, he saw Purpara still looking away. Swiftly did Chase grab the dish and pour its contents into the nearby pot plant. After arranging the leaves to hide the cake, Chase set back the plate and leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach.
"That was a delicious meal!" he praised.

"It's been a long time since I've had a guest here. Please, make yourself at home," Chase greeted his guest before disappearing into the kitchen. He didn't plan on impressing, he was going to cook something simple. Some noodles, a sauce cooking in the pan right next to it, some shrimp on another skillet. Give it some time and there it was: shrimp alfredo. He added a sprinkle of seasoning and a few vegetables for flavor, then stepped into the dining area to set it before his guest. Besides them was a glass of wine.
"I hope you like it," Chase nodded.

To say Strange waited patiently for the meal would be stretching the truth. He had never been patient, and he fidgeted in his seat while waiting, fingers tapping a beat against the table top. With clawed fingertips the pattern rang throughout the room. All the while he tried to steal glances at his host - he certainly wasn't bad to look at and trying to sneak peeks was far more entertaining than waiting. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), he didn't have long to wait before the meal was set out in front of him. Two red eyes peered over the meal with interest, the third red eye regarded it passively. Picking up a fork, he tucked into the meal. His movements were slow, savoring the flavors of the sauce, shrimp, noodles, and vegetables mixed together. A simple meal, but not all that bad for being so. He drained the glass of wine last, and lifted the empty glass to his host. "Cheers. Maybe I can convince you to cook for me again sometime?"

---

Cooking was something the demon king rarely engaged in. He could eat if he wanted to, but he didn't have to eat. When he chose to eat, it was most often prepared by someone else. This was something a bit new to him then. The foods he most enjoyed eating when he did eat were the decadent kind. He wanted to make something fancy for his guest, but this would be an expectation vs reality kind of thing. Steak and potatoes would do, he eventually decided. Yet the steak he prepared was woefully overcooked with no seasoning to speak about. It was tough to cut and tough to chew. The potatoes fared a little better. Tiny red potatoes were boiled in a pot and then drizzled with butter and herbs on top. Perhaps drenched in the butter, but they were easier to get through than the steak. With everything ready, he arranged it artfully on a plate to present to his guest. "Bon appetit!" A glass of red wine was poured for the both of them, and he joined his guest at the table to watch and drink.

wyrm stretched and gazed at the demon with her usual dopey expression while Furocious nibbled on a piece of cheese.

"My whiskers are tingling, something clawful is going to happen." the felyne whispered.

Wyrm placed the felyne on the table so he could eat. Wyrm bit into the overcooked steak as her felyne companion rolled a potato about.

 a demon huh? kill it! kill it for this insulting "meal". Wyrm sighed, again with that voice bothering her. it was fine, a nice meal after a long hunt. she laughed as she watched the felyne kick the potato he had. that's just what he did with his food. he always had to "kill" it first . Furocious smacked the wine glass out of her hand before she could drink from it. fair enough, if he didn't like it she probably didn't want it.

now, it was her turn to cook, not that she could make much anyways. monster meat and honey butter would have to do. (gourmet steak +200 health and gradual heal) it was one of the few things she could cook. She went outside to start a fire while her felyne companion sat on the table, staring at the being waiting. He ventured closer and gave the being a bite with a smug grin. wyrm would slaughter whoever dared hurting her friend and he knew that. Wyrm soon returned with a gourmet steak and placed it on the table. dragon noodles would be good. yes, they are classified as monster food but she thought it was tasty. she began to make the noodles, while Furocious licked the cooked meat on the table. in return he would give up some aged felvine. Wyrm placed the finished noodles on the table and sat down, drinking elder dragon blood. Furocious snagged a noodle to play with.

Kriltchar's attention is only slightly diverted from fiddling with his robotic claw at the felyne biting him.  His dull glance is the only physical response the little felid gets.  
"Why'd you have to choose my regular arm to bite?  I don't need another robotic arm, asymmetry is all the rage these days."  He replies calmly and in a tone that leaves you unsure whether he's being serious or sarcastic.  After returning to his previous activity, he's only pulled away by the delicious scent in the air and the rumbling of his stomach. He digs right in in not the most polite way.  He's not really one for manners, even if he's not really outright mean or intentionally rude.  Only when he's finished does he acknowledge the one to which he owes thanks.  "Quite tasty! Thanks.  Noodles were a good touch.  Not quite sure what that steak was from but.. that mystery meat was good!"

Not wanting to entirely shift attention away from his delicate task, the dinosaur-like dragon Kriltchar checks the time just with his robotic eye, the other still focused on the task at hand.  His guest would arrive soon.  He so rarely had dinner guests.  Finally finishing up the last fixes on the strange looking device fitted on right arm replacing his hand, he lifts it up proudly. The silent air was suddenly cut by the whirring of internal mechanics and the cascading light reflected from the moving metal as he tests the transforming mechanism between his regular clawed hands and the new device.  "Smooth as butter again." he mumbled to himself with a smirk.   His musings were interrupted by the gentle dings of the bell on his door.  The dragon runs to the kitchen to quickly grab the ingredients he had gathered previously.  Being a creature who relies heavily on the cheapest convenient meals he can get his claws on and has never really cooked with fresh items, he has no idea really when vegetables spoil.  Who knows when he bought them honestly... better hope for the best?  

Eventually he comes out, grinning like a child showing off a cool new trick he learned, and puts an assortment of vegetables and spices haphazardly in a half bowl in front of his guest.  He dramatically raises his claws and his fingers shift into itself and becomes the complex device he had been working on.    He taps in some commands before pointing it at the dish and in the blink of an eye and with a loud crack, from the molecules being forcefully rearranged and re-positioned in an instant, there is suddenly an exquisitely presented dish of Ratatouille.  Of course... you can force things to look like a dish, but one thing this eccentric scientist had forgotten to really consider was: proper care in the timing, vegetable quality, quantity of ingredients, chemical reactions in cooking,  and overall taste testing.  At best it would probably be bland with a small aftertaste of radioactivity.

Zinkur has never been good with company, and she never knew and actual conversation starters, so she just sat at this dragon's table awkwardly staring at this... she thought it was food?

Coughing nervously, she picked up the fork with her fingers and poked the dish. It was... spongey...

"What do you call this again?", Zinkur asked, pretend smile fading.

"Ratatouille!", the scientist chirped. "It's a French dish, made mainly of vegetables!"

The dragon rambled on and on about the dish's origins and where he found the vegetables but only one question was really on Zinkur's mind;

What the heck is a French???

"-- I actually got the tomatoes from this old woman's garden, so I guess I can't really say I bought them!", Kriltchar said, with a reptilian smile.

Zinkur, who hadn't been listening, only nodded. She lifted up the human food, and took a bite.

It tasted... bad, to say the least. But she was dealing with a scientist here, and well, aliens and scientists usually only meant bad things for the alien in question.

"It tastes... unique...", Zinkur said, acting much unlike her rude self. She was being polite though, for the sake of her organs staying well inside her body. Scientists loved to rip apart aliens to see what was inside of them.

"REALLY?!". Kriltchar squeaked. 

Zinkur nodded. 

She was gonna throw up...

"SON OF A DONKEY'S LEFT NUT, I BURNED MY FINGER!", Zinkur cursed, whilst sticking her injured finger in her mouth. She had accidentally touched water, and well, Irkens are allergic to water.

Nonetheless, she kept on cooking. Cooking was one of her talents, and honestly, she was good at it. She only hoped her mystery guest thought so too.

She was cooking her own alien-esque version of spaghetti. She had carefully selected foods she could eat, and she only hoped her guest could eat them too. Sure, she hated people, but she didn't want someone to die because of her cooking.

Her stupid sister would never let her live it down.

Soon, the sauce had been perfected, and the noodles were the perfect texture. She garnished it with an Irken spice, which would add an interesting flavor to her dish.

She set it out on the table, and then, the doorbell rang.

 The fusion smiles as she was admitted through the door of the aliens home. "Ah, an Alien." She greets Zinkur with a small bow and seats herself at the table. "Hm..." She pokes the food around with her fork and takes a single bite. The spaghetti was wonderful, with the Irkens twist on the plate. "This is wonderful." She covers her mouth in between bites to speak. "Although I don't need to eat. I am glad I did. I hope we can meet again." She offers the Alien a small coin as thanks, and with that, she was gone.

The gem was back in her lovely ocean spire. "Ah! I have a visitor coming, I better make them feel at home!~" She thought of the lovely alien that prepared a meal for her. She decided to make a meal as well. She had no food to speak of. She ponders for a while, thinking about what she has seen humans and other creatures do. She leaps into the ocean that surrounded all sides of her spire. She retrieved a rather large quantity of Oysters and Clams, she smoked them inside a make-shift smoker she constructed. She plated them on a mirror she had lying around. No cutlery. "Oof... I hope this is enough." She crosses her arms, admiring the four foot tall stack of smoked shellfish she had made.

I didn't mind the beauty of the pile of shellfish, but looked with a evil smirk over to Gem. "I'm gonna be shellfish and say I'll take a half" I grinned with my K-9 teeth bared. I politely snatched 5 shellfish and cracked them open. The smell was overwhelmingly good, and when I removed the beautiful meat I felt a soft fuzz travel up my spine. A gentle slimy texture surprised me with a blast of flavor. I enjoyed my food and happily ate it. 

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I grabbed my pans and pots with a deathening hard grip, and set them on the stove top. The spices and assorted supplies were awaiting my use. 

"Company... Hmm..." I blurted out, thinking of what spices to use with steaks, and vegetables. 

I pulled out a secret spice and begun sautéing the vegetables in a marinade. The steaks were grilling in spices and sauces. I furiously worked on the best I  could make. 

Finally, after much work, I laid out the plates with the fanciest setting out. I was prepared or the final judging of her meal. 

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Slushu is a very good cook, due to an obsession with food. She's very delicate with how she spices the food, but she always makes sure she doesn't over spice. She makes sure everything she cooks is savory. 

Bingo stares at the parfait with a blank face. He takes a handful of it and eats it without question. To him, it's not as bad as month old flesh the vultures (or whatever the Pikmin equivalent is) forgot to eat or rotten eggs...but it's still bad. He just eats quietly.

Once he was done, he just got up, and left, not even saying anything. ((sorry this is so short oof))

Bingo can't cook for the life of him. ...or do anything other than kill for that matter. So he decided to go out of his way for the sake of this forum game to kill someone and steal some eggs. He puts the organs he gutted from the poor victim (without cooking it) on a plate and set some raw chicken eggs next to the raw guts. He stares at [charater below] with a small smile, hoping they would like it...he thinks that they will. ((Blacked out in case you don't like gore or something lol))

Tomoko nearly flinched when the "food" was brought to the table. Did this creature have no idea what demons ate? There is always the few demons that like... this sort of stuff, but Tomoko was in he majority that didn't. But of course he couldn't be rude to someone who was trying their hardest to serve him.

He started with the raw eggs. Those would be the most easy to get down. Cracking one on the plate, he broke it over his mouth and quickly swallowed it. It was slimy, and slightly unpleasant, but nothing too bad. Tomoko just hoped he wouldn't get salmonella from it.

"I... like it." Tomoko decided that telling a petty white lie wasn't going to hurt anyone.

-

Tomoko was silently panicking. Ammerie was the one who knew how to cook, not him! He only made food occasionally, and even then those creations were subpar. Now he had to make food for a stranger. He decided to go the simple route: spaghetti with meatballs. He may have undercooked the meat and substituted ketchup for sauce, but he just hoped hat they wouldn't judge him too bad for it. He brought it to the stranger and set the plate down in front of them. "I hope y-you like it!" He shuffled nervously to sit down, and gave a small smile of intense anticipation.

Chance might have made a funny face with the first bite, but did manage to eat the entire plate. Sure, the ketchup was a poor substitute for actual sauce, and the meat might have been undercooked, but at least it was food and it was edible. It didn't taste terrible, either. Just weird. 

"Well, it's not the worst spaghetti I've had." They admit to Tomoko, offering a slight smile. "If you keep at it, you'll improve in no time, I'm sure!"

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They hum to themselves as they prepare the meal. They're not particularly good at cooking, so they improvise by mostly preparing food that's simple to cook. Rice is easy, so they opt to make some, seasoning it only with a bit of salt. Various fresh veggies cut into pretty shapes; bell peppers in thin strips, chopped up carrots further sliced into stars, and diced onions, these are sauteed briefly in butter with a bit of garlic. Chance also fries up a cut of steak, barely searing it on both sides, the inside still cold and very rare. This is also sliced thinly and placed on top of the rice and veggies, trying to arrange it as prettily as possible. They push it out to the stranger, looking at them expectantly. "Enjoy! There's plenty!"