He laughs, aware that he's good but still pleased to watch someone openly enjoy his cooking anyway. It's been a bit to hear so from anyone who wasn't his daughter. "Necessity. Mother isn't the best of cooks, bless her heart, so someone out of the two of us had to learn. I made sure I taught Lucie the moment she was able to learn, I didn't want her in the same position I was."
"Please. I dare you to ask me to make a real gourmet meal like a Wellington. I tried, trust me," Claurant laughs as he recalls his attempt at it. It was both burnt and undercooked at once, somehow.
"We alternate, yes. It depends mostly on who's home at the time and who feels like cooking, really. I have work and I tend to be out either for that or just... out," he shrugs. He doesn't clarify, because even he acknowledges how awful it sounds to say he leaves his daughter to her own devices so he can party or to sleep. "Or she's at that age where she has her own friends and goes out often. So it varies. She's a better baker than I am, I'll give her that, even if I have a few recipes I'm proud of."
"A Wellington? Isn't that the thing Gordon Ramsay is always yelling about?"
Richard wouldn't pass judgement on Claurant leaving his daughter alone to cook for herself, he's already proven himself to be 100 times more responsible than Richard by having a kid in the first place.
"The very same. And he'd loathe me who I butchered mine, so I'm glad we've never crossed paths."
Yes, the deception is working... continue to believe him to be a responsible man. He loves it.
"I'm a private investigator, actually. More civil cases than criminal ones, but I do get a fair share of criminal cases too. Disappearances, murders, white collar crimes... you name it, I've probably worked it once." He wonders whether or not to mention the book and decides to go for it. "... I've written a novel too. One. I don't entirely plan on publishing another, but it was nice to do."
"It is about a detective. He's not solving a proper case so much as he's digging into the history of his family, trying to root out the eldritch in it and discover more about who he is."
He doesn't tell Richard that the novel's practically an autobiography. He hasn't told anyone. Why would he? They say write what you know indeed, which is why Claurant hasn't been itching to write a second novel. He's told his story. So long as nothing else major happens, he's content with that.
"So it's like a Lovecraftian noir? Very cool." Richard says with a smile, "I played an 8-bit horror video game last year that kind of had the same idea."
His plate practically licked clean he pushes the dish away from him and leans back a little in his seat.
"So how does it end? Does he go mad or does it have a slightly happier ending?"
"That's exactly the way to describe it, yes." And exactly how to describe his life. In between his work he weaves an adventure into the depths of magic and mayhem, into the abyss time and time again. It's left its scars, on his hands and in his mind, and Claurant runs his fingers over a few of them as he thinks.
"I went for a bit of both. It ends overall well enough, but the protagonist is forever scarred and it's obvious." Was he predicting his own fate? Perhaps. "My agent said the original ending was a touch too grim."
He inclines his head towards the empty plate, still wringing his hands about each other. "I can fetch seconds for you if you want."
Claurant chuckles with a swirl of his wine, taking a measured sip before he speaks. "Maybe later," he says, and for a split second he wonders if he should have gone there, even as a joke.
The feeling's gone near immediately. Claurant regretting things is one thing, Claurant regretting an overtly flirtatious comment is almost unheard of.
"Well, you've never told me what you do. We can't just talk about me all the time, can we?"
You underestimate Claurant's capacity to flirt with just about anyone.
"Isn't that technically a career? Freelancing?" Claurant says, wondering if he misinterpreted him. "Some people do that. Who am I to judge you, honestly?"
"Yeaaaah I think technically it's just called being a loser." He says with a snort, "Which is fine. I work in order to pay rent, not to feel fulfilled."
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no subject
Date: 2025-12-24 02:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-12-24 09:58 pm (UTC)"Necessity my ass, this is like gourmet shit." If it requires more than two steps Richard doesn't do it so Claurant's cooking seems masterful.
"Do you two take turns cooking then?"
no subject
Date: 2025-12-29 12:49 pm (UTC)"We alternate, yes. It depends mostly on who's home at the time and who feels like cooking, really. I have work and I tend to be out either for that or just... out," he shrugs. He doesn't clarify, because even he acknowledges how awful it sounds to say he leaves his daughter to her own devices so he can party or to sleep. "Or she's at that age where she has her own friends and goes out often. So it varies. She's a better baker than I am, I'll give her that, even if I have a few recipes I'm proud of."
no subject
Date: 2025-12-30 06:23 am (UTC)Richard wouldn't pass judgement on Claurant leaving his daughter alone to cook for herself, he's already proven himself to be 100 times more responsible than Richard by having a kid in the first place.
"What do you do for work?"
no subject
Date: 2025-12-31 01:02 pm (UTC)Yes, the deception is working... continue to believe him to be a responsible man. He loves it.
"I'm a private investigator, actually. More civil cases than criminal ones, but I do get a fair share of criminal cases too. Disappearances, murders, white collar crimes... you name it, I've probably worked it once." He wonders whether or not to mention the book and decides to go for it. "... I've written a novel too. One. I don't entirely plan on publishing another, but it was nice to do."
no subject
Date: 2026-01-02 04:49 am (UTC)"No shit, really? What's it about? A case?"
Don't they say to write what you know?
no subject
Date: 2026-01-03 03:19 pm (UTC)He doesn't tell Richard that the novel's practically an autobiography. He hasn't told anyone. Why would he? They say write what you know indeed, which is why Claurant hasn't been itching to write a second novel. He's told his story. So long as nothing else major happens, he's content with that.
no subject
Date: 2026-01-03 06:27 pm (UTC)His plate practically licked clean he pushes the dish away from him and leans back a little in his seat.
"So how does it end? Does he go mad or does it have a slightly happier ending?"
no subject
Date: 2026-01-03 07:34 pm (UTC)"I went for a bit of both. It ends overall well enough, but the protagonist is forever scarred and it's obvious." Was he predicting his own fate? Perhaps. "My agent said the original ending was a touch too grim."
He inclines his head towards the empty plate, still wringing his hands about each other. "I can fetch seconds for you if you want."
no subject
Date: 2026-01-06 06:51 am (UTC)"No thanks, any more and I'll have to unbutton my pants and you probably don't want to see that."
no subject
Date: 2026-01-09 08:06 pm (UTC)The feeling's gone near immediately. Claurant regretting things is one thing, Claurant regretting an overtly flirtatious comment is almost unheard of.
"Well, you've never told me what you do. We can't just talk about me all the time, can we?"
no subject
Date: 2026-01-10 03:45 am (UTC)"Do? You mean like career wise? Nothing." He says with a grimace, "I work shitty jobs when I have to."
no subject
Date: 2026-01-10 10:42 pm (UTC)"Isn't that technically a career? Freelancing?" Claurant says, wondering if he misinterpreted him. "Some people do that. Who am I to judge you, honestly?"
no subject
Date: 2026-01-11 06:33 pm (UTC)