[ Even though he'd expected Asriel, invited him to let himself in, it still startles him — and the cat! — who both turn round to look at him with wide eyes. But Alberto doesn't miss a beat, pasta spoon still in hand, as he shim-shams at Asriel in beat with the instrumental bridge of the song, greeting him enthusiastically. ]
Ehiiii~! Asriel! Ciao! Benvenuto!
[ He twists, clumsily, albeit somewhat aggressively?!, and points the spoon directly at Asriel, continuing the song in an airy tone. ]
L'amore è quasi zero, no non val di più, (Love is almost a zero, it’s not worth anything more) Dopo, all'improvviso, arrivi tu~! (Then, suddenly, you show up) Ahaha~!
[ The magic of Avalon is a beautiful and wondrous thing, like a multilingual person recognizing another language is being spoken, but registering its meaning fluently, with... every language... They may hear most every conversation as if it's their own, but some things like music or terms that just carry their own unique cultural connotation, just have to fall on the ear in their own way. There's no realtranslation for Ciao after all, however it may be understood in any other language... It is what it is, organically — inextricably Italian. Music can't be stripped of that essence, either, even if it can be understood in another alternate dimension. It's an incredible thing, these barriers dropping — and regardless, just the barriers of reticence or shyness in any sense dropping, being shimmied and twisted away with a pasta spoon as a prop, is its own kind of special, silent language. Alberto knows no shame. He's loping Asriel into this no matter what, it seems. ]
( For a moment, all Asriel can do is watch him -- listening to the song in sung in a language that he hasn't heard before... but, it's pretty to say the least. Even if he couldn't understand it, he couldn't help but that that meaning still might be there all the same, and Asriel can't help but giggle again at just how happy and carefree Alberto is.
In a way, he can't help but be a bit envious. It feels like his own carefree days are long over... At the same time, he's always been someone to be happy to see others happy. He can't help but clap his hands a bit in applause. )
Hah! It's human stuff— humans have the best music!
[ He plops the spoon back in the pot, giving the pasta a stir, then sets it gracelessly on the countertop as he checks the chicken inside the oven. It's definitely that that smells so good, whenever he opens the door it just brings a fresh waft of it through the kitchen. ]
C'mere— Make yourself useful. We need bread and oil. There.
[ It may sound harsh in its directness, but he says it with all the nonchalance and airy affection his tone usually wears. He points lazily with one hand toward the loaf of bread and the big jar of olive oil, but doesn't give further instruction as he cranes his neck to examine the food still cooking inside the oven. ]
( For a moment, Asriel wants to ask why Alberto specifically said "human" music, but he's cut off when Alberto begins to instruct him. Considering that Asriel's used to Chara's rather distant, blunt nature here? He doesn't take much offense to what he says.
He moves to grab them with ease, bringing them over to Alberto. )
[ Alberto looks at Asriel with a bemused, amused face for a split second, then chuckles, breaking into an endeared smile. ]
Slice the bread, ragazzo~ Put that oil down, heh. Not yet~ See that long knife with the teeth there? Grab that one~
[ He points to his over-stocked knife rack hanging above the stove, indicating a basic bread knife, still examining the chicken in the oven. He forgets sometimes that Asriel is like four years younger than him and raised as royalty with ostensibly loving parents, from what he's heard from him and Chara, so probably hasn't had to fend for himself as much as Alberto has. He waves his hand lazily again toward the counter. ]
You do that, then we'll toast it in the oven to make it warm and crispy. Then we'll put the garlic and oil on! Ehi, while we're at it, go ahead and slice one of those garlic cloves in half, will ya? Just one is enough. This is just to hold us over, heh~ Fettunta!
[ He gestures to the long string of garlic bulbs pinned to the wall, acting as if he knows fully what he's doing — which, surprisingly enough, he does; he's not bluffing for once. The things Alberto has learned to make, whether mimicking Massimo's cooking or finding recipes on the "Everything Machine" here in Avalon on his own, are all fairly easy and simple, but fairly delicious. He shows a proclivity toward human food far more than he'd shown any interest in sea monster food, enjoying the heat and robust, unfamiliar flavors like garlic and herbs, cheese and olive oil. Even just the pollo alla parmigiana baking in the oven is a delicacy to him, simple as it is, served over capellini pasta, but every dish he's mastered of the three he's mastered is a source of immense pride for him and he's, as always, eager to show off. Even if it's just antipasto, toasted bread spread with fresh garlic and soaked in olive oil is a great beginning to hold them over until the chicken is done. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-22 05:46 am (UTC)Ehiiii~! Asriel! Ciao! Benvenuto!
[ He twists, clumsily, albeit somewhat aggressively?!, and points the spoon directly at Asriel, continuing the song in an airy tone. ]
L'amore è quasi zero, no non val di più, (Love is almost a zero, it’s not worth anything more)
Dopo, all'improvviso, arrivi tu~! (Then, suddenly, you show up)
Ahaha~!
[ The magic of Avalon is a beautiful and wondrous thing, like a multilingual person recognizing another language is being spoken, but registering its meaning fluently, with... every language... They may hear most every conversation as if it's their own, but some things like music or terms that just carry their own unique cultural connotation, just have to fall on the ear in their own way. There's no real translation for Ciao after all, however it may be understood in any other language... It is what it is, organically — inextricably Italian. Music can't be stripped of that essence, either, even if it can be understood in another alternate dimension. It's an incredible thing, these barriers dropping — and regardless, just the barriers of reticence or shyness in any sense dropping, being shimmied and twisted away with a pasta spoon as a prop, is its own kind of special, silent language. Alberto knows no shame. He's loping Asriel into this no matter what, it seems. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-11-07 07:50 am (UTC)In a way, he can't help but be a bit envious. It feels like his own carefree days are long over... At the same time, he's always been someone to be happy to see others happy. He can't help but clap his hands a bit in applause. )
Gosh! That's a really nice song.
no subject
Date: 2021-11-26 01:50 am (UTC)[ He plops the spoon back in the pot, giving the pasta a stir, then sets it gracelessly on the countertop as he checks the chicken inside the oven. It's definitely that that smells so good, whenever he opens the door it just brings a fresh waft of it through the kitchen. ]
C'mere— Make yourself useful. We need bread and oil. There.
[ It may sound harsh in its directness, but he says it with all the nonchalance and airy affection his tone usually wears. He points lazily with one hand toward the loaf of bread and the big jar of olive oil, but doesn't give further instruction as he cranes his neck to examine the food still cooking inside the oven. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-12-10 03:35 am (UTC)He moves to grab them with ease, bringing them over to Alberto. )
Here, Alberto! What should I do next?
this is technically after the beach log but do you wanna just roll w sea monster as a secret anyway?
Date: 2021-12-10 04:04 pm (UTC)Slice the bread, ragazzo~ Put that oil down, heh. Not yet~ See that long knife with the teeth there? Grab that one~
[ He points to his over-stocked knife rack hanging above the stove, indicating a basic bread knife, still examining the chicken in the oven. He forgets sometimes that Asriel is like four years younger than him and raised as royalty with ostensibly loving parents, from what he's heard from him and Chara, so probably hasn't had to fend for himself as much as Alberto has. He waves his hand lazily again toward the counter. ]
You do that, then we'll toast it in the oven to make it warm and crispy. Then we'll put the garlic and oil on! Ehi, while we're at it, go ahead and slice one of those garlic cloves in half, will ya? Just one is enough. This is just to hold us over, heh~ Fettunta!
[ He gestures to the long string of garlic bulbs pinned to the wall, acting as if he knows fully what he's doing — which, surprisingly enough, he does; he's not bluffing for once. The things Alberto has learned to make, whether mimicking Massimo's cooking or finding recipes on the "Everything Machine" here in Avalon on his own, are all fairly easy and simple, but fairly delicious. He shows a proclivity toward human food far more than he'd shown any interest in sea monster food, enjoying the heat and robust, unfamiliar flavors like garlic and herbs, cheese and olive oil. Even just the pollo alla parmigiana baking in the oven is a delicacy to him, simple as it is, served over capellini pasta, but every dish he's mastered
of the three he's masteredis a source of immense pride for him and he's, as always, eager to show off. Even if it's just antipasto, toasted bread spread with fresh garlic and soaked in olive oil is a great beginning to hold them over until the chicken is done. ]