(no subject)

[sunbaked_baker]

Your boyfriend being loving and understanding and staying out of your business, not asking any uncomfortable questions despite this being the one situation where you really need to be able to talk about things openly?

Make tea.


Your local SOFs looking haggard and worn from 12-hour shifts, but refusing to tell you any news?

Make Killer Zebras. (And some extra for Theo; they're his favorite and he's not off-shift again until midnight.)


Your friendly neighborhood vampire ally keeping you in relative radio silence (for your own protection) as he tries to gather more information on the new vampire gangs moving into your city and generally putting his li... existence at risk?

Make Cinnamon Rolls As Big As Your Head. Work out your frustration by kneading the lurid, multicolor hells out of the dough.


City council passing a mandatory curfew law that requires everyone to be indoors after 10pm without giving an explanation as to why, meaning your workplace has to close an hour and a half early, causing almighty snit-fits to erupt from both employees and the regular customers?

Make Bitter Chocolate Death. Add more chocolate. No, more. And make more tea.


Judging by the delicious smells coming out of the Milliways kitchens, it's been a bad week in New Arcadia.

Comments

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart is bringing his bucket of fish into the kitchen, to freeze some of them and smoke some others. There is always cold smoke to be had there for proper smoked salmon or trout.

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae is kneading the rosemary-garlic bread dough like it personally insulted her, trying to work out some of the tension from her shoulders. She hears him come in, though, and looks over, offering Urquhart a slight smile when she sees it's him.

"Hey."

[scots_wolf]

"Good morning, Sunshine," Urquhart says.

He puts the bucket on the counter and starts cleaning the fish.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Good morning," she replies, turning back to her kneading. Rae will not be watching the gutting of fellow oxygen-breathers.

[scots_wolf]

"What are you making?" Urquhart asks, salting the fish for the smoke.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Rosemary-garlic bread," she replies, flexing her hands. The kind of flour she's using makes a stiffer dough than usual. "With this much dough... there's probably enough for two or three loaves."

[scots_wolf]

"Oh, that sounds very tasty," Urquhart says. He puts a bit of pepper on the inside of the fish.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Should be, unless I give in and pound it to bits."

Or, you know, just overknead it.

"How've you been?"

[scots_wolf]

"Busy," Urquhart says. "I've gone to Alfred's world with him, which was profitable fun."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Do I want to know?" Rae asks, raising an eyebrow. Urquhart and his lover friend seem to have quite the adventures.

[scots_wolf]

"Probably not," Urquhart says. "Especially not the details at the inn."

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

Balthazar cautiously pokes his head into the kitchens. He hasn't lived this long without being at least a little aware of hazardous situations.

Even if the major hazard here is thrown dough.

"Is there something I should know?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae looks over at him, leaving a smear of flour on her temple as she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"That being left out of the loop can be terminally frustrating?" she says, letting out a sigh.

She feels that it's something that everyone should know.

"Want some tea? I just set the pot to steep a few minutes ago."

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

"Try being in an urn for ten years. It's amazing what you miss out on." Balthazar comments dryly as he takes up his usual place on the corner bench.
"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

[sunbaked_baker]

Once the dough has been moved to a flour-dusted stretch of countertop, she moves over to the sink to wash her hands, filling the now-empty mixing bowl with soapy water to soak off the dough remnants.

Rae soon returns with two cups of tea.

"At least in an urn, you're not actively being brushed off by the people not telling you what you need to know. I hate having nothing to go on, especially when I feel I could actually help if I did."

As much as it frightens her, as much as she hates being able to do what she can do, she's set herself to doing what she can to try and save the world. Fighting for good and light and blah blah blah. Whatever. Fighting to stay alive and keep the human world alive. That'll do.

Surely she'd be better able to do so if anyone ever told her anything.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

"Oh yes," He says, dry as the Sahara, "Being in an urn was much better."

Why yes, that does sound ridiculous. He knows it full well. He resists the urge to dump sugar in her tea.

[sunbaked_baker]

It really does.

"There aren't many cinnamon rolls to be had in an urn," she admits.

Like the one she's begrudgingly setting on a small plate and handing to Balthazar, dropping herself onto the stool near the counter with her tea.

"Even though they frustrate the everloving hell out of me, not telling me anything but expecting me to keep up the undercover stuff, I'm still sending bakery bags home with my SOFs. The current situation has them pulling twelve-hour shifts, as if their normal workload wasn't enough."

So she supposes her situation could possibly be worse.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

He sees the point is taken, and so refrains from making sarcastic comments about the trials of such horribly long shifts. He's still waiting to come off duty, after all these centuries.

"Undercover... stuff? More vampire bait?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Nothing so well-defined," Rae sighs. "They just want me out there doing what I can do, whatever that is, and they'll do their best to cover me from the attention of their bosses."

Great job at giving the reluctant newbie some direction, guys.

"At least they haven't asked me to scry through cosmails again. I doubt they will - last time they had me try, I blew out the entire com-system of SOF headquarters."

And the time before that she nearly died by being sucked out of her body and into the chaos-side of Other Space. Thankfully, Aimil was quick-thinking enough to shut the combox down. Sunshine isn't about to mention that incident to Balthazar.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

"We must work on this tendency of yours to explode when pushed. For once, I eventually will get tired of getting the wind kicked out of me." He grumbles, picking off a piece of the cinnamon roll.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Magic isn't always biddable," she says apologetically, wincing as she remembers last time. "And it wasn't me exploding at SOF headquarters, it was the computer. Backlash from trying to get past a master vampire's defenses."

Psychic email reconnaissance isn't an exact science.

"And some things are getting better. Sometimes, I almost feel like I could create an illusion, but the... power... or whatever... doesn't like how I'm going about it. Like one of those perspective puzzles, that look like a jumble of shapes if you approach them from any but the right angle, and then it looks like whatever it's supposed to be."

Perhaps, in practice one day, if she can let go enough to get herself to fall back into her Dark Sight, it might let her know what she's doing wrong.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

The napkin pats Rae's hand consolingly.

And Balthazar's ring stops glowing once the napkin smooths itself out again.

Magic not behaving? Only when there's an opposing sorcerer messing with his spellwork. If you know how to do it, if you do it right, it behaves itself just fine.

Except when Rae's involved, it seems.

[seat_five_girl]

These are delicious smells that are not the product of strangely processed meat tubes, so Ako is taking a moment to pop her head in through the door.

Milliways! Promoting snooping in every patron!

[sunbaked_baker]

No cooking smells caused by Sunshine will ever smell of meat tubes. Or meat at all. If someone wants a non-vegetarian meal, they can find a different cook than the one currently kneading tension out of herself by kneading the hell out of a mixing bowl of dough.

[seat_five_girl]

Ako follows her nose towards the ovens.

That smells good.