Baked goods for sale!

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine may be running on fumes today, after a string of long days and longer nights with little sleep, but a baker still needs to pay off her tab.

Rae exits the kitchen wreathed in the enticing smells of freshly-baked deliciousness. The tray bearing the scintillating scents' source is securely held in her arms: cinnamon rolls the size of human skulls; a pyramid of moist chocolate cake squares dotted with white chocolate chips and pecans, topped with ginger fudge icing and crushed pistachios and the occasional fleck of sea salt; lines of gooey lemon-strawberry bars like sin dusted with the veneer of powdered sugar purity; sliced spirals of rich chocolate cake and hazelnut icing; a cluster of flaky pastries like miniature meteor craters filled with caramel and almonds; a circle of long, low slices of dense chocolate cake like wedges of pure darkness; a group of rich layered brownies smelling of Irish cream and dusted with edible gold glitter in the shape of stars; and two single-serving sized oval pastry dishes with a light, unassuming pastry crust lying even with its upper rim, hiding anything that might be below.

The tray and its treasures are set upon one of the central tables of the bar room, where Rae puts up her sign.

Sunshine's Freshly-Made Baked Goods
(Prices as listed or otherworld equivalent)
Cinnamon Rolls As Big As Your Head: $5
(Extra Icing: $.50)
Primordial Fudgecake: $3
Lemon Lechery: $3
Killer Zebras: $3
Caramel Cataclysms: $3
Bitter Chocolate Death: $3.50
Morningstars: $3.50
Death of Marat: $5 (only two available)

It's been nearly a full day of baking, and Rae is pleased with the results. She is hoping it will help ensure a good night's sleep later. Sunshine hangs her apron over the back of one of the chairs at the table, and settles down with one of her younger brother's textbooks on Other law.

You know, light reading.

Comments

[themerlin]

An eagle lands on the far side of the table, and peers at the goods, then at her, and a calm voice speaks from it.

"That seems like a delectitude of deliciousness, milady." The voice has a vague Welsh sound to it.

[sunbaked_baker]

Even the most fascinating intricacies of the legal system can't manage to make the arrival of a massive bird inconspicuous. Seeing the movement out of her peripheral vision, Sunshine looks up the moment before it lands. The baker doesn't really have much first-hand experience with them, and is struck by just how big the eagle is, up close.

And how... surprisingly eloquent.

"Thank you," she replies, after a moment of hesitation. "It's been too long since I've baked, here, and I enjoyed the opportunity. The recipes are all my own creations."

They aren't exactly part of a normal eagle's diet, but this is Milliways. What is normal here? In any case, the bird's shadows suggest that even elsewhere, this would not be a normal eagle.

[themerlin]

The bird twists its head sideways, and nods, a bobbing of its whole body.

"Then they are sure to be worth my time. And money."

The eagle places one claw forward and then it twists and shifts, flowing larger and longer, until, there, with one hand on the table, is Merlin, eyes a-twinkle, and glowing softly golden.

"It is good to see you baking, milady."

[sunbaked_baker]

Her look of surprise quickly transforms into a beaming smile. "Merlin! I should have known."

Even with the time that has passed, no one else's shadows gleam with that many colors.

"It's been an age and a half, it seems." A small handful of years is not an age, but they have been particularly full years. She bears more scars - both seen and unseen - than she did when they last met, and her hair has been cut short, falling not even to her shoulders.

[themerlin]

He grins at her. "It's been a time, dear lady, My apologies for not being around so much."

He sweeps her a real bow, the kind someone who has been in court would do to a peer or higher personage, but his grin is in full display as he does.

"A dozen years or so, for me, but such feels the same, after a while." Milliways has always been a fickle friend for him, coming and going.

"How are you?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh, I am still around, despite some very enthusiastic attempts to the contrary," she replies, a touch wry. The burn scars on her neck, though well-healed, are new. New enough to be the cause of her shorter haircut. "Still baking."

Still finding joy in it, and crafting momentary peace where she can.

"Some of these are newer creations you may not have seen before," she nods to the tray. "Though I've been feeling the itch to experiment again, lately."

[themerlin]

"Good. I should be rather shouted if I were to have to go, resurrect you, and salt and burn the idiots who did it." His tone is gentle, but promises mayhem for those who harm her, should he ever get his hands on them. His eyes flicker part those scars, then back to her eyes. "You are as beautiful to see as ever."

Then he smiles warmly.

"Tell me if these new creations?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine's smile gentles. "You're very kind."

For the thoughtful offer, and the kind remark.

Even if some part of her hopes that when her enemies do one day best her (as she has resigned herself they will), those who know her will let her rest, and not pull her back from wherever she goes.

"The Morningstars are the newest addition to the repertoire," Rae adds, changing the subject. "Fudgey Irish cream-layered brownies, sprinkled with edible gold glitter."

[themerlin]

Ah, well, Merlin is never good at letting go. Too many years, too many goodbyes.

Still, he grins at the desert so named, and produces a single gold coin the size of a quarter to offer her for it.

"Then I'd be obliged to try such delights."

[childofrebellion]

Cassian enters with his collar turned up, no one's following him but he feels like the local patrol's schedule is set as a timer in him. When he finds Milliways instead of the cantina he was going to wait in, he relaxes slightly then his eyes widen as he sees the table full of baked goods.

He walks closer, considering all of the options before saying, "What's in the Moringstars?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"All the best things," Sunshine grins, looking up from the absolutely riveting world of the Independencian legal system. Textbooks could at least try to make their topics interesting, right? "The Morningstars are the layered Irish cream-mocha brownies. They're the ones with the edible gold glitter shaped like stars on top."

An addition by their namesake.

"How have you been, Cassian?"

[childofrebellion]

He shrugs and stretches his shoulders,

"Having some long days. I'll try a morningstar and one of the caramel pastries. It all smells so good. How are you?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine sets her borrowed textbook aside and stands to plate up a couple of the confections for Cassian.

"I'm all right," she says, settling one of the larger Morningstars and a good-sized Caramel Cataclysm onto a small plate. "Though I hear you about there being some long days, lately. It's been... a hectic time back home. I'm thinking of staying around here for a little while and catching up on sleep." If she can get herself to actually sleep instead of lying awake and worrying.

[childofrebellion]

"More sleep can never hurt. Thank you. All I have are credits,"

He pulls out from his bag a few thin strips of credit, his hand knocking against his hidden blaster and he feels tired again. His mission removed someone who could damage the Rebellion, but no death is easy.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Credits are fine, just pay whatever you figure you'd pay for something similar back in your world," she replies. Life is too short to bother with interdimensional exchange rates.

"Think you'll get the chance for some rest soon, too? Something to offset the long days?"

[childofrebellion]

After a bit of counting, he sets down a few thin strips for her and nods, "I hope so, this haul took longer than I expected."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Maybe snag a couple of restful nights here, just in case," she murmurs. Sunshine knows the feeling of living with the ongoing hope that things will settle down some, only to find it never does.

Rae sets the confection-laden plate before him, and accepts payment, examining the thin strips with interest.

"Does your world - your galaxy - all use the same currency?" she asks, curious.

[childofrebellion]

"I will. Mainly though sometimes out on the Outer Rim, people prefer using spice instead of credits,"

Spice is harder to track.

[takethatnature]

A man who looks like he just stepped in from about 1920 and then got rolled down a grassy hill - red waistcoat, shirtsleeves, hair of an unfashionable length for his era sticking out from a red and green tartan flat cap, a few small scrapes and smudges of dirt about his person - is staring at the pile of baked goods with a conflicted, bewildered expression. On the one hand, if he was ever going to see a cinnamon roll worth five entire dollars, the hypnotic beacons of deliciousness in front of him would be pretty good candidates. On the other hand, what kind of fantastical ambrosia could it possibly be made out of for one pastry to cost five dollars? He could get a week's groceries for that!

The thought that he would qualify as 'otherworld equivalent', with the distance in time and inflation between his Earth and Sunshine's, has not occurred to him.

[sunbaked_baker]

Wilson would be likely aghast at the prices set by the chain bakeries and coffeeshops in Rae's world, since the economic collapse the Wars brought. Charlie's Coffeehouse is in Old Town and their prices are set to reflect the financial ability of Old Town's poorer residents. The Prime Time location in the bustling downtown area, for example, charges much more for much less.

Much much less, Sunshine would say when she is feeling uncharitable. They use flour improvers, overknead their dough (which comes from using a kneading machine rather than getting their hands dirty) and their chocolate is sub-par.

Sunshine has opinions.

"Hi there," she says with a smile, looking up from the battered law textbook. "Can I help you with anything? What looks good?"

[takethatnature]

Wilson has yet to be initiated into the world of paying $7 for a subpar chocolate croissant, it's true.

"Um. All of it? All of it looks good." He's been living on his own questionable cooking, found ingredients, and the assistance of subtly extranormal cookware for months. He can manage a sort of carrot-cake-like muffin recipe and somehow get waffles out of a slow-cooker pot, but that's about it for baked desserts. "Especially the star things and the giant cinnamon rolls. But I don't have that kind of money."

Wilson doesn't look like he's too poor to spare $5 in twenty-first century money given how not worn out his clothes are, and he sounds more baffled by the pricing than apologetic about his finances. An idea visibly travels across his face. "Do you accept payment in weird gemstones? I only have about thirty cents in cash, but I've got more purple gems than I can use."

They're only a little bit haunted!

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine smiles, tilting her head. "I'll admit I've not encountered any weird gemstones before, so those have the novelty factor going for them. But gems usually would go for a lot more than five dollars in my world, especially since the Wars tanked the economy. How are baked goods usually priced, in your world and time?"

[takethatnature]

"It's probably worth more than that in mine too, but I wanted more than one pastry," Wilson says. He's not a jewel appraiser but they're pretty big gems. "Also I don't have anything in between those."

"Twenty to fifty cents, probably, for the good stuff. What Wars?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"The Voodoo Wars," she replies. "Though they had nothing to do with Voodoo, they had a lot to do with some really bad stuff, and wrecked a lot of things."

Put lightly in the tones of one who is glossing right over a broken world that isn't really recovering, even over ten years later.

"I'm not going to send you off without the baked goods you want, in any case. Could you show me one of the smallest of your weird gemstones?" So she doesn't feel entirely like she's ripping him off?

[takethatnature]

Wilson has no idea what voodoo is anyway, as he predates the popular sensationalization of the practice. "Sounds like a war, all right. I hope my world doesn't end up having those."

He rummages around in his pocket and produces a purple gem - an amethyst, probably - the approximate size of a tangerine. Its outside is faceted and shiny, but its interior is cloudy to the point of complete opacity and as it catches the light strange shadows flicker in its depths even to the unaided eye. Sunshine's discerning eye for shadow will likely pick up that while the gemstone by itself is inert, it makes an excellent conduit for shadow magic and has faint traces of those shadows upon it still. Not enough to qualify it as haunted, but certainly touched by the supernatural.