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>The smell of coffee and cool morning air lingered in the cabin as Calliope Mori, Hololive’s resident reaper, rummaged through the kitchen. The soft clink of mismatched dishes echoed as she pulled out a well-worn metal percolator and slammed it onto the stove with a bit more enthusiasm than necessary.
>“Alright, Anon,” she said, flashing you a mischievous grin. Her long pink hair, usually immaculate, was tousled - evidence of an early morning. "I'm about to show you something kakkoi as hell. Cowboy coffee. The real deal."
>You watched, somewhat intrigued, somewhat concerned. Mori wasn't exactly known for her culinary prowess. You opened your mouth to say something, but she'd already grabbed an egg from the counter and, to your utter horror, cracked it straight into the percolator. Shells and all.
>“Mori, what the hell are you-”
>“Shush, shush, shush! Trust me on this, Anon!” She wagged a finger at you, looking far too confident for someone who had just committed a breakfast crime. The percolator began to sputter on the stove, the water heating up, dark coffee bubbling with egg whites floating around like misplaced marshmallows in hot cocoa.
>You couldn't tear your eyes away, watching the whole process unfold with a morbid sense of fascination.
>After a few minutes, Mori plucked a fork from the drawer and fished out the now-cooked and blackened egg along with the shattered bits of shell. She tossed them onto a nearby plate and waved her hand over the percolator like a magician at the end of a trick.
>“Ta-daaa!” she said, presenting the concoction with a proud grin. “Clear coffee, my guy. Just like the cowboys used to make.”
>Skeptical, you poured yourself a cup, expecting some kind of... disaster. But when you lifted it to your lips, the coffee was surprisingly smooth, far less bitter than you imagined. The usual bite that came with black coffee was softened, almost mellow. You raised an eyebrow.
>“Huh,” you muttered, taking another sip. “Tastes... decent, actually.”
>Mori crossed her arms, looking smug. “Told ya. Death isn’t the only thing I can handle, Anon. I got coffee *and* bars.”
>You chuckled, staring down into the cup. Maybe Mori was onto something after all. Or maybe you’d just lost your mind along with your taste buds.
>Either way, the morning felt a little less bitter. And, you had to admit, a lot more entertaining.
