Jamming in the Afternoon

[ginger_firebird]

Cooking did not happen too often in Mantis’s home. It was messy. It was hot. It took time. He was going to be all day with this latest project. Wandering into the industrial area of the Nexus will allow people to see an unusual sight. Rather than wearing his usual mask, Mantis had a scarf wrapped around his face vaguely similar to how one might imagine a ninja might look. He was seated in front of a portable stove with a pot cooking away over the flame. Next to him were several packages of fruits, empty mason jars, bags of sugar, and massive jugs of water. He sat in a folding chair situated beneath the shade of a large umbrella with a pile of long grass on his lap. Every so often, he’d pick up a piece and add it to a growing weaving project in his hands.

One might recognize the simple operation as a jam making jamboree. It’s an old, but fun way to make the most of a day and a harvest of fruit. Perhaps those who know him might be able to recognize his somewhat gaunt frame as he lounges back in the shade. Some who do not might be curious in general. Pale grey eyes dart up every so often to the cooking pot, but he’s not about to get up and rush for anyone or anything. He gets the jam stirring every so often with a flick of his wrist and a well-used wooden spoon.

There are a lot of jars, in spite of himself. With how time-consuming this was, that jam was going to last him a while. He wouldn’t have to buy any, wouldn’t have to borrow any, and that left him with visions of a personal hoard of sugar-sweet goodness. He sighs as he keeps with making his grass-woven project and sniffs the air. The question was half asked to the air around him, but it does deserve to be answered: “What should I do with these first?”

Comments

[ginger_firebird]

"There's always someone who changes you. Sometimes it's for the better, usually for the worst. What could she have done that you were prepared to end her life over it?" It's a strange thing to hear from anyone, let alone an angel.

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer looks away, all the feathers on his wings standing like a nervous bird fluffing up. A quiet, breathless moment passes before the feathers lay flat again.

"God murdered my child so I was going to kill his." Lucifer sighs as his eyes slowly come back to Mantis. "I was not created for war or violence which is why He murdered my child. I refused to kill my child on God's command."