Work Text:
Amarillo sneezed.
Sickness was, he noted, a stupid thing. It was there, and its presence was logical, but Amarillo being disturbed by it was illogical. He had far too proper an immune system to be bothered much, so why did the colds even try?
"Bless you!" rang out from the kitchen. Oran.
Oran was making soup because soup was a classic and Azul was also out of commission due to another illogical choice made by bacteria.
Along with that, Rojo was tending to the animals and could not cook to save his life, and Verde, who was probably admiring the five bajillion paintings of him, also disliked cooking, ruling him out.
So Oran, who was terribly average but slowly improving, was making the soup.
Amarillo didn't need the soup, he was fine, but Azul probably wanted it and there would be enough for two or three so Amarillo may as well have some to prevent leftover soup, because who in their right mind leaves leftover soup.
Nobody, of course, so Amarillo would make the logical decision to consume the soup which was somewhat illogical to make.
Soup shouldn't have to be made, but it was being made because bacteria made an illogical choice.
So the entire situation was illogical.
Amarillo appreciated the blessing of him from Oran, but blessings weren't real, really.
Sure, there was a blessing a man might give to the guy trying to marry his daughter, and other such things, but Oran meant blessings as in old religion related culture. So like a magical get well soon, Amarillo was pretty sure.
It was a nice gesture, but Amarillo did not share that belief system and so assumed the blessing would not work, not that it would work even if he did because it was just a few words and not medicine.
Amarillo wouldn't ever say that to Oran, though, because even if it did nothing it was still kind, and Oran was also rather believing in the gods and Amarillo didn't want to risk somehow offending the artist (even if Amarillo saw nothing offensive about his beliefs).
After a few minutes, Oran came over with the soup, also having made some for themself.
"I'm going to give this bowl to Azul and then I'll be back down in a minute." Oran said.
"All righty." Amarillo responded, more interested in the soup (Not that he needed it, he just happened to like soup, obviously).
Oran went upstairs with the third bowl of soup.
Amarillo sipped some of the broth. It was good, definitely the canned type for convenience. Not that Amarillo could tell by taste alone, obviously, loving soup that much was purely illogical because it's so basic, it was just that Amarillo saw Oran making it, of course.
He could tell that Oran had just dissolved some of the medicine in the soup, because Oran always did that to make things easier on those with sore throats and other such things, and because it left a very faint spiky taste. Amarillo always assumed the medicine would be less potent, but Oran made it work somehow. Oran was illogical like that sometimes.
The soup was good. Average, but on the high end of average, which was common with anything Oran did that wasn't art related.
Oran was illogical like that sometimes.
Amarillo was tempted to consider the soup, and Oran being illogical, more, but Oran came back down and grabbed their bowl.
Oran had a smaller serving than they gave Azul and Amarillo, which was odd because Oran loved eating. Well, it didn't really matter, and asking about it would be illogical.
It was probably because Azul was sick and Amarillo was also sick but less sick than Azul. Oran was nice like that, although it was illogical that they didn't split their portion evenly with Amarillo instead of choosing the smallest portion.
Oran sat down next to Amarillo, which for anyone else would be illogical, but Oran had a scarily good immune system and had not gotten sick a single time since they moved in. Perks of being a traveler, Amarillo guessed.
"So, did you ever manage to fix the blender?" Oran asked.
It was an illogical question, considering the thing had been broken last week, and therefore had obviously been fixed by now.
"Of course I did. Why do you ask?"
"You seemed frustrated about it all last week, I was just curious."
"Ugh, don't even."
"Hehe."
"I just don't get what Rojo did to break one of the blades and then get goop in the machinery! I mean he said it was an accident, but how in the world?" Amarillo cried, which turned into a cough.
"Well, I can tell you that for Rojo to have done it, Azul had to have let him by the blender. That or he snuck by. Overall, Azul helped."
"Er...I knew that. It would be illogical if I didn't, but either way I'm going to beat some sense into him. There is no reason Rojo should've ever been allowed in the kitchen!"
Oran, finishing off their bowl and getting up, laughed. "You're talking like you're much better in the kitchen. I imagine you all starved when Azul was sick and couldn't cook before I got here."
"I can follow instructions at least!!"
Oran laughed again and disappeared into the kitchen.
"Well, if you need anything else, I've got to do some painting, so I might be slower to help." Oran said.
"Are you gonna paint Verde for the millionth time?" Amarilo teased. Oran glared at Amarillo.
"I was going to paint you, but now I think I'll just paint one of the rabbits again instead. They're much better muses anyway."
"Wha-! I'm a good muse, I'll have you know! You must just not know a good muse when you see one!"
Oran started to walk up the stairs.
"I'll paint you pregnant if you keep this up, Rillo!" Oran laughed. It was Amarillo's turn to glare, though said glare was ruined by another sneeze.
What an illogical morning.