Fifth floor common room, Thursday morning

[nadiathesaint]

Oblivious to whatever chaos she may have created between two of her friends, Nadia was humming softly to herself and bouncing slightly as she set about cooking up some empanadas.

Her favorite part was pouring in the beer and the shortening.

Every now and then, she'd pause to sing softly into her spoon as though it was a microphone.

She'd put up a quickly written sign on the finished empanadas on the table:

Free empanadas!
Participation in blind taste test is voluntary but encouraged

[ooc: open! empanadas contain whatever the heck you want to mod them to contain. At least one will be chocolate, marshmallow, pineapple, and onion]

Comments

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I know." Anders finished the empanada, washed it down with milk, and shrugged again. "I'm just lying low for a little while, that's all."

He made a gesture toward his temple that could easily have been mistaken to mean 'crazy.' "Trying to sort a few things out up here first, you know?"

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I know how that is." Walter washed the chocolate off his hands and poked dubiously at the empanadas on the sample plate.

"Who wants to be accused of emo when it's just trying to think things through?"

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

Anders decided to risk a third empanada. What were the odds that the third one could be as bizarre as the first two?

. . . Jell-O? Meat Jell-O?

"Maybe I should just put up a sign on my door. 'Not Emo, Just Thinking.' But then people might go, 'Oh my lords, he's thinking, he's gonna hurt himself!'" Just a wee touch of bitterness there? Yeah, maybe.

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

Walter had been watching when Anders took yet another empanada and wasn't sure if he was encouraged by the look on his face after he had a bite.

But he was hungry.

Beans and coconut? Nadia had some very odd ideas of edibility.

"Is that better or worse than people wondering who else is going to get hurt when I start thinking?"

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

Well, if you closed your eyes . . . and tried to ignore the unmistakable wiggly-gelatin consistency . . . it almost tasted like real meat. Still, warm Jell-O. Anders filed that one away as a loss.

"On one hand? It's like they don't trust you to think. On the other hand? Maybe that means people know you're good at it? Does that make sense?"