Username: Kyar
Teekin name: Bava
Prompt:
A long, deep inhale - the sound of the intake of breath filled the kitchen for the umpteenth time, chest puffed out as far as it'd go in preparation. Bava pressed the eggshell to his lips, closed his eyes, and blew. A fountain of liquid egg rocketed out the other end, as his chest deflated, the bowl was spattered with egg once more, threatening to splash as it rolled up the sides before the breath ran out, the flurry stopped, and the egg slowly slid back down the sides of the large glass dish. The sink was on in the blink of an eye, and the eggshell, now light as a feather, took a gentle soapy bath before joining the rest of its brood in a heaping bowl. Across the countertop, paints, tissue paper, glitter, and confetti waited in neat narrow rows for the second phase of the project. And now that the last of the eggs was ready, the scrambled middles could head back to the fridge - he wasn't going to attempt an 18-egg omelet to serve just himself.
Since boyhood, Bava had always loved cascarones. It was tradition - his grandmother always had heaps of them ready for Easter Sunday, he and all the other grandkids scrambling to choose their favorite painted designs before chasing one another, cracking confetti off each others' heads. The first year he got to be involved in preparations was a mark of pride, even if all he was allowed was to blow out the eggs, and even if a few attempts resulted in a handful of shattered shells. Years passed, and his grandmother's painting techniques passed on too, her guidance on building patterns and blending colors filling Bava's dreams even after the eggs were finished, presented, and destroyed. Now, most of his creations ended up shipped off across the country, sometimes across the world. He didn't know if they ended up broken or simply put on display, but to be in the business of creation - the creation of something he loved - was the most rewarding thing he could possibly hope for.
