>You are anon.
>And it's dinner time.
>Okay.. Well. not really.
>It's somewhere around 10 PM.
>That's why you're sneaking into the kitchen in the cafeteria with your cast-iron pan, some fresh greens, a small container of garlic butter, some fresh asparagus, and an uncooked rib eye in a backpack.
>The day you've had has been nothing if not drawn-out.
>A training mission to go track a pack of Grimm south of Vale with Professor Port.
>Nothing but stories.
>For three days.
>And when you finally get back, you find that the cafeteria had just closed for the night.
>So screw it. You worked all day, you had to listen to what boiled down to pretty much the exact same story all day.
"When I was (Inset age here) my (Insert family member/friend and name here) and I had to stop a (Insert Grimm species/pack here) right outside of (Insert location here.)"
>It was enough to make you consider feeding yourself to a death stalker.
>You deserve a decent goddamned meal.
>You climb into the cafeteria through an open stained-glass window and squat on the ledge over the ground.
>You take a moment to look around the room, trying to find a table to jump on within jumping distance.
>There we go.
>You drop down onto a table, and hop over a few more.
>All the floor tiles by the windows, and a few random one throughout the cafeteria are glyphed to keep people like you out.
>After several near misses, set off alarms, a handful of stern discussions with Professor Goodwitch and/or Oobleck, and a threat or two of expulsion you have figured out the pattern.
>Haven't been caught in over 7 months.
>Suckers.
>After reaching a safe spot, you finally get off the tables and casually walk into the kitchen.
>What?
>It smells like... hamburger meat.
>Someone's cooking.
>You slide behind one of the long counters in the prep station area and sniff a little bit.
>Burnt Garlic.. About to be burnt ground beef..
>Whoever it is.. They clearly aren't the best cook.
>So chances are it isn't one of the cafeteria staff.
>You peer around the counter ever so slowly.
>They're wearing pretty much all black.
>Definitely not kitchen staff.
>Wait a second...
>You peer around the corner again.
>Long red hair tied up into a ponytail.
>So tall they almost have to slouch to use the stove comfortably.
>Bronze crown-looking thing around her head.
>What the hell is Pyrrha Nikos doing in here?
>Relieved that you don't have to hide, you quietly stand up as to not startle her.
*DONG.. CLANK CLANK*
"EEEEEEE"
>Or not.
>That's what you get for not looking up before standing.
>Stupid low-hanging pans.
>Pyrrha spins around and reaches for a bread slicing knife and extends it towards you.
>You put your hands up and start shaking your head no. If she screams again, or (god forbid) turns this into a fight; not only will you lose you'll probably get kicked out of Beacon.
"Who're you!? And what're you doing here?"
>Shit..
>Well here's hoping she's as level-headed as you've heard.
>"Relax! I'm a student here, just like you. I just wanted to make myself dinner."
"Prove it!"
>"Okay! Just.. Put the knife down. The name's Anon."
>She lowers the knife slightly.
"What's in the bag?"
>You slowly take off your backpack and reach in.
>You glance around the kitchen to find a clean spot to put your food.
>The entire area is a goddamned disaster.
>Meat juice, broken egg shells, outer layers of onion, and garlic skins are somehow littered on almost every cooking surface.
>What. The. Hell.
>You peer behind her and see smoke rising rapidly out of the pan sitting on the stove.
>"Uh... Ms. Nikos..? Might want to check that."
>The realization makes her eyes go wide as she immediately spins around and starts haphazardly turning dials in hopes of turning off the heat under the pan.
>This.. This is the famous Pyrrha Nikos?
>After a few moments she still hasn't found the right dial.
>You walk up to the stove. She backs away as she sees you coming.
>Third dial to the left. Off.
>You look down into the now blackened pan.
>A small mound of completely charred beef is in the middle of the pan.
>Going through a small Rolodex of recipes in your head, you turn to her.
>"First time trying to make your own hamburger patty, right?"
>Pyrrha nods, slightly ashamed.
>"You giving up on a diet or something?"
"No Anon... It's.. For a boy."
>"Trying to impress him?"
"Yes.."
>She's either ashamed of the unappetizing attempt at a meal, or still embarrassed about being caught here so late.
>You take a deep breath and look around the kitchen.
>At the mess she made.
>Then your backpack.
>And then at her.
>Okay.. She's distraught about the meal.
>Thinking over your options, it becomes clear that you don't have much of a choice.
>This guy had better be worth it.
>Probably isn't..
>"Clean all this up. I'm going to teach you how to make a meal this guy will really remember."
"Wait, really? Why?"
>"Because I 1: don't want the profs to think that there's anyone other than me sneaking in here because that means they'll lock this place down tighter than they already have. And 2: I don't have the conscience to see anyone try to serve something like that to someone they're trying to impress. So clean up while I unpack."
>You let out a sigh and go to unpack your bag.
>Everything is still in pretty good shape.
>Let's set up for a nice meal.
>You maneuver around the cleaning Pyrrha to get to the stove.
>Pretty sure you heard her whisper "I'm sorry," as you walked by.
>It better be for this goddamn mess..
>You spread the ingredients out on a small area and put your cast iron the stove top.
>Time to prep this motherfucker.
>You look around the kitchen and eventually find salt, pepper, and olive oil.
>Okay. Time for the cooking lesson.
>"Pyrrha, give the cleaning a break. We'll be here for another hour if-"
>You turn around and find that her once disgusting workstation is now spotless.
>Well.. At least she cleans up fast.
>Maybe there's some hope here.
>She walks over to you, placing a chef's knife on the cutting board.
"Okay.. Thank you. Now.. What's first?"
>"Steak dinner."
>She recoils a little bit.
"Isn't that.. A little out of my league?"
>"Not at all. Pay attention, and you'll be fine."
>Pyrrha looks away and crosses her arms.
>For fuck's sake.
>How the hell is someone this famous this unsure of them self?
>"Okay. Let's step back for a sec. Who are you?"
"Pyrrha Nikos."
>"And you're probably the biggest name of come to Beacon in.. Ever, I guess. Right?"
>She nods sheepishly.
>"You didn't get famous for nothing. You trained and worked you ass off. Right?"
"Yes..?"
>"And just like anybody else who wants to be a hunter or huntress, you start with the basics."
>Now she just looks confused.
>"Look. My point is that this meal is filled with the basics. Things anybody can do, and anybody can understand. And if you can learn the basics of being a huntress, you can learn these too."
>The look of confusion fades, and is replaced with one of curiosity
>Think you're up to it?"
>Pyrhha smiles a little and nods enthusiastically
>You start turn on the heat under your pan.
>"Good. Then lets begin."
>While the pan and oil heats up, you give her instructions on seasoning.
>She produces a pen and tiny notepad and starts taking down everything you say.
>Everything.
>You season the piece of rib eye with salt and pepper
>"Salt and Pepper are tried and true. There is always plenty of room for experimentation for seasoning. But hold off on that until you feel more confident."
>The pan is finally hot enough.
>You delicately place the steak in the pan.
>Smoke starts to rise immediately.
"But. Aren't we worried about it burning?"
>"No. We sear it to lock in all the juice. Turn down the heat slightly before you put the steak on. Once it's on don't touch that, and don't touch the meat."
"But.. What if it-"
>It's not going to burn. You're going to have to trust yourself. Wait 3-4 minutes. Flip, and wait another 3-4 minutes for medium rare."
>She's still furiously writing to keep up with you.
"What about a side dish?"
>"That's what these are for.
>You pull out the asparagus and a container of fresh salad.
>"Usually potatoes are a go-to with steak. But potatoes take too long to cook, and I'm always pressed for time in here."
"Why?"
>She stops for a second, realizing that you both are still trespassing.
"Oh.. Right. Sorry."
>God. What is with this girl?
>The timer on your watch goes off.
>Okay. Flip that. I'll be right back
>You clean off all the asparagus stalks and lay them down on the cutting board.