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[canttrickmeanymore]

Peter comes through the front door, without heavy-ass books this time. What, you didn't see him leave? He had that Spanish quiz to take, you know.

He is slightly annoyed - he had Spider-Man things to do and now he is here instead of out Spider-Man-ing. Fine. Whatever. He's here. Maybe he'll get a burger or pizza or something.

Comments

[manipulatestime]

Peter's huff doesn't go unnoticed.

"You look like you don't want to be here."

[canttrickmeanymore]

He pulls a face. "Uh, not really don't want to. I just kinda had other plans." Not the first time he was interrupted. Likely won't be the last.

[manipulatestime]

"You can probably still do them when you get back." That's what Five does when he gets interrupted like that.

"Does time move on your side?"

[canttrickmeanymore]

"Yeah, I can. But it's an energy thing, you know? I was all set to do this thing and ending up here is kinda like letting the air out of the balloon." Not that he doesn't like it here, but he had things to do. This probably also answer the time movement question.

[manipulatestime]

"Yeah, I get that." Boy does he ever. "You want to do what you want to do when you want to do it. It's a pain in the ass when that doesn't happen."

[canttrickmeanymore]

He nods in agreement. "It's bad enough that I do get told not to do things I want to do. But this is a thing I'm allowed to do, so not getting to - is a bummer."

[manipulatestime]

"That's the worst. You shouldn't let people tell you what to do."

[canttrickmeanymore]

"See, the problem with that, is the consequences afterward. Especially if things don't turn out well." He doesn't always 'let' people tell him what to do. He does what he wants when he wants sometimes - and sometimes it doesn't go well.

[manipulatestime]

"Yeah, consequences can be a bitch, but they come with the territory." He knows from that, too.

[sunbaked_baker]

Is it possible that a cinnamon roll could help?

Because there is a cinnamon roll being set down near his elbow that is still fragrant with melty cinnamon-sugar from its time in the ovens and that practically dwarfs the plate that carries it.

[canttrickmeanymore]

The smell of warm cinnamon and sugar gets closer and closer until it's suddenly close enough he knows it's right nearby. He turns his head and gives the pastry a look, then glances at someone he assumes is the one offering the treat. But doesn't say anything. Yet.

[sunbaked_baker]

The one offering the treat is a red-haired woman, possibly in her late twenties, wearing a blue, sunflower-dotted apron over her hot pink t-shirt and purple jeans. Her arms and neck are scarred, but her smile is friendly, if slightly wry.

"You look a bit put-out," she remarks lightly. "Anything a pastry can do to help?"

[canttrickmeanymore]

He shrugs a little. "Mildly grumpy." Which may really mean the same thing. "Interrupted plans," he says, though it doesn't really explain much.

"I don't know if the pastry will necessarily help, but it smells amazing."

[sunbaked_baker]

"You might be surprised?" she offers, tilting her head. "Good food is often some of the best ballast against whatever curves the day might throw at you."

"... Unless the interruption in question is the arrival of the bar wherein you get offered one of Sunshine's Cinnamon Rolls As Big As Your Head. Then I can understand the residual grumpiness," she says, not unsympathetic. "Milliways has been known to have pretty stellar timing, but yeah, sometimes its timing can really stink, too."

[canttrickmeanymore]

"I wasn't expecting to come here, no. I - also wasn't expecting a cinnamon roll the size of a dinner plate." That one cinnamon roll is pretty much one serving for Spider-Man. It might also work under the guise: growing teenager.

[sunbaked_baker]

Most teenaged boys Rae knows, including her half-brothers, are effectively bottomless pits when it comes to food. Especially good food with little redeeming social value (Nutrition? Never heard of her!).

"Few people would normally expect a sudden cinnamon roll being offered to them, true, even here, unless they've run into me before. Then they know."

"I'm Rae. Rae Seddon, though most people call me Sunshine. I'm a baker." Her scars add the among other things that she doesn't voice out loud.

[canttrickmeanymore]

"I'm Peter. I'm a student." Yes, he's being pedantic... grumpy, remember?

"Do you always offer your profession - or hobby - along with your name?" Maybe not all that grumpy still. He hasn't yet decided his position on the cinnamon roll. He's hungry - he's frequently hungry - but debating meat and veggies before giant carbo-load.

[wayward_sun]

A well-dressed man with a bright smile and carefully groomed stubble, makes himself at home at the bar with a glass of Scotch and a plate of assorted nibbles, and gives him a friendly "Hello."

He sounds very British.

[canttrickmeanymore]

"Hi," he says back, politely if not his typical sunshine-y bright. He's deciding still between burgers and pizza.

[wayward_sun]

"Too many choices?" Lucifer asks.

It's not uncommon when faced with a magic bar

"I've found a great way to handle that."

[canttrickmeanymore]

"You have a way to fix having too many choices?"

[wayward_sun]

"Absolutely."

He leans in a little, as if to impart a secret.

"I'll just take one of each."

He grins.

[canttrickmeanymore]

"I guess that's one way to go. Maybe not the healthiest..." not that he was going for healthy at all right now.

[wayward_sun]

"If what you really want is both, then why not have both? You could even ask for a smaller serving if you don't like leaving food on the plate."

[canttrickmeanymore]

"Sure, I could, but I don't know if I'm quite that hungry. So it seems like a waste."