fandomhighdorms | Fifth Floor Common Room, Saturday Afternoon

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Fifth Floor Common Room, Saturday Afternoon

Ronan got to the common room a little before 1PM, setting down on the counter the basket he always used to carry stuff to the kitchen. He had everything required to bake the cupcakes, and now was only waiting on Anders, who, thankfully, had actually gotten the voicemail he'd sent this morning. There was a vague wonder if anyone else was going to show up, since someone else had probably gotten the original voicemail the day before.

He was a little excited, and this totally had nothing to do with the potential for explosions.

(OOC: For the fellow cupcake experimenter, but open for all your common room needs.)

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Enter a freshly-showered and rather cheerful himself (because he might not have gotten the voicemail that went to Xander instead (http://needsaparrot.livejournal.com/2464.html?thread=730016#t730016), but the intent sure held when he got home) Anders, stage left. Okay, through the common room door.

"Oh, awesome, dude, we ready to go?"

Ronan nodded. "Absolutely! I've got everything we need. I hope. Everything that's on the directions on the package, anyway. And a cupcake tin."

"And I've got frosting and sprinkles down in my room, if the experiment fails and we don't blow 'em up," Anders added. "This is pretty much exactly how you started last time, right?"

"Yeah," Ronan said. "This is even the same kind of mix. So... if everything goes as it did before, we're looking at a messy oven."

Anders shouldn't have been grinning as gleefully about that prospect as he was, but it sounded like fun, for the time being. "I've never blown up cupcakes yet, so . . . maybe I should let you do this part?"

Ronan laughed. "All right," he said, equally (and equally inappropriately) gleeful. "So, yeah, last time I followed all of the directions on the package exactly."

Which he proceeded to do, and Anders was welcome to double-check that if he wished to see that, yes, he actually was following the directions as they were written.

Anders did just that, actually. As the self-appointed cupcake guru of Fandom High, he sort of felt it was his duty. And yes, so far the proceedings seemed to be going according to the rulebook.

As it were. Not that there was an actual official cupcake-baking rulebook . . . that he knew of.

"So maybe it was, like, rogue cupcake mix?" he mused. "Or maybe the oven was conspiring against the cupcakes?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Ronan said. "I think I'm just not supposed to bake." He paused. "Remember, you did say you'd be responsible for clean-up. Although if you do get stuck with the oven? I'll take care of the bowls and stuff."

Ronan was just about finished mixing the cupcake batter. "Do you want to put the little cup things in the tray?"

"I'm a pro at that," Anders said lightly. "Sure, let me at 'em."

He liked to think he had a certain degree of style when it came to putting the liners into the tray, and he did so with a flourish, whistling what sounded like an incredibly mangled version of Colonel Bogey's March to himself as he worked.

"Well, you know how the second floor common room is like really cool? It got made over after it got blown up, so maybe this one'll get a sweet redesign if disaster strikes."

"... Who blew up that common room?" Ronan said. "Was it another cooking related disaster?"

He started filling the liners, his precision almost exact at filling each one two-thirds full.

Anders had to envy that. He'd always been a little slapdash in his liner-filling efforts, so he was totally watching Ronan's technique.

"No, it was the Elrics. Some alchemy-related experiment that went wrong, and that was over a year ago. I don't get the whole alchemy thing, so I couldn't tell you how exactly they did it." He started twirling the lid of the cupcake-liner container between his index fingers, and leaned against the counter. "All I know is there's something about equivalent exchange involved."

"Alchemy? That sounds interesting. I may have to see if I can meet them, learn what they do." Ronan finished filling the cupcake tray, and smiled. "The moment of truth," he said, and placed the tray in the ~~handwavily~~ pre-heated oven. He set the timer. "So... last time, it took about five minutes before boom."

Anders checked his watch and set a timer, then crouched down, hands on his knees, peering expectantly through the window in the oven door.

This was probably not his best idea.

"Whatever you do," he said, his tone amused, "don't ever tell Al that what he does is magic. He gets all mad about it."

Ronan laughed. "Don't say the same thing to me," he said. "Mine is wizardry, not magic. It's totally different." He paused. "... And I mean that. Although I don't really get mad about it."

He, too, crouched down a bit to look through the oven door.

"Both of those things are totally out of my league," Anders admitted. "How's it different?"

He squinted at the cupcakes. "And yes, now we have batter rising a little bit. Not dirty."

"It's... not magical?" Ronan said. "I'm not really sure how to explain it. It's just... magic's always seemed to me to be, 'wave a wand, get your wish.' For wizardry, something's spent -- the energy comes from somewhere, whether yourself or the universe at large. And you need to know what you're doing, because if you screw it up there can be some seriously dire consequences." He totally wasn't thinking of Dairine's timeslide for ur-matter.

"And rising is a good thing, I think. ... Not dirty."

Anders nodded and checked his watch. With any luck, they'd have cupcakes-go-boom in about two minutes. "That sounds more like alchemy," he decided. "At least, I think it does, 'cause you can't create something from nothing, if I'm understanding it right."

He tapped lightly on the oven door. "C'mon, blow up!"

"Cool," Ronan said. "I definitely need to talk to them, then."

... And look. Boom.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Each cupcake was exploding individually, each one splattering the inside of the oven with more half-raw, half-burned cupcake goo. Each one of twelve.

". . . wow," Anders said, watching in rapt fascination -- and apparently completely unmindful of the fact that he'd have to clean this up, later. "And you did everything according to directions. That takes some serious skills, dude. Especially getting 'em to go one after the other like that."

Ronan grinned. "I can't explain it. At all. It just... happened last time. Although the went all at once when I did it before..."

BOOM.

The oven shook a little as all of the cupcake-stuff kind of... reexploded. No property damage, but the oven was definitely moved a little bit from where it had been before. And the cupcake-stuff seemed to have expanded.

"... Maybe we should turn off the oven?"

"Holy frak," Anders blurted out, "potentially lethal baked goods! I can't decide whether that's wrong, or the best thing ever."

A little reluctantly, he stood to shut the oven off, then peered in at the cupcake carnage again. "Wow. It grew."

"... I wonder if I could submit this for extra credit in Explosions."

Ronan examined it. "Yeah, I think you're right. It did grow. That... shouldn't be possible." He turned off the oven. "Time for clean-up, I guess," he said. "Although we should probably open it and let it cool off first."

He opened the oven door.

And cupcake goo, half-raw and half-burned, flew everywhere, covering them both as well as the area around them.

"... ... Remember, you promised to clean up."

Anders sputtered for a moment and wiped cupcake goo off his face, because ow.

"I did, didn't I?" He'd have to save cleaning himself off until he got back to the room. Somebody could have fun with that. "That was pretty awesome. If we could figure out how we did it, I bet you could totally get extra credit for it."

With a mock sigh, and a grin far too big for the amount of mess they'd made, Anders headed over to the sink for paper towels.

Ronan chuckled as he wiped off his own face. "How we did it? As far as I can remember, you just watched."

He examined the mass. "... I just don't understand it. It doesn't make sense. It must have something to do with my wizardry, although I couldn't tell you what."

"Hey," Anders objected, laughing. "I put the paper cups in! For all you know that's why they exploded one by one!"

He scratched his head, getting more goop into his hair, and got to work mopping scorched batter off the floor. "Weird. That's the only thing I can think of, too, but I'm even less qualified to tell you what it is."

Ronan considered. "Maybe something to do with fire and water? I mean, I wielded a spear of elemental fire for a while, but my first major wizardry involved the ocean in a big way."

Anders stopped mopping cupcake goo off the floor and stared at Ronan for a moment.

". . . you talk about elemental fire so casually."

He might be a little stuck on that part.

"... Well, I carried the spear around disguised as a ballpoint pen for a while?"

That only increased the bogglement. "That must have been hell on paper."

Ronan shrugged. "Well, I didn't write with it. It was just... much more convenient to carry around than a spear, that's all." He grinned, and grabbed a couple of paper towels. "Here, I'll help so that we can finish up and go get clean ourselves. I know that I'm now dying for a shower, and I can't imagine you're much different."

"Not to mention a lot easier to get through metal detectors and . . . hey." Anders batted at his hand with the paper towels. "You did the exploding, so cleaning up's my job. Besides, I bet I could find a use for all this cupcake goo on me."

Ronan grinned. "Got someone to help clean you up, then, hey? Wish I could say the same..." Although Johnny might help if he were around. ... it's hard to say, really, how he'd react to the idea.

Cue dorky grin time. "Uh huh," Anders replied as he replaced his worn-out paper towels with fresh ones, and tackled the next gooey patch of floor. "But I bet you wouldn't have a hard time getting somebody to help you with it."

Ronan grinned. "Probably not, no. Maybe I'll ask around, see if anyone's interested."

"If that doesn't work, maybe next time we should try it with, like, glitter sprinkles," Anders suggested with a smirk.

"Who needs glitter sprinkles?" Ronan said, laughing. The spell was getting easier every time he used it, although this time it was focused on just a little tiny bit of the cupcake stuff. As he pulled his hand away, the cupcake stuff glittered. "I mean, when I can do that."

Anders gaped for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Oh, that is so not -- showoff!"

Ronan laughed, a little harder. "Who, me?" he said. "No, showing off would have been doing it to myself. Which I have done. And to others." He grinned. "It's, ah... a lot of fun, shall I say?"

"I bet it is." Anders gave an amused snort. "Want to glitter up a little of the stuff on my shirt? I just want to see how Bel's going to take it."

Ronan grinned, and ran through the spell again in his head as he passed his hand across Anders' shirt. As his hand trailed, it left behind itself a wake of glitter. "That good?" he said, after a few moments.

Anders surveyed the results and shook his head, bemused. "Yeah, that's perfect. Around here, that talent will get you places, too. Which I'm sure you already know."

"Yeah, it's been... interesting. It's gotten me a few places I wouldn't have expected." Ronan shrugged. "It's been fun, though. I've had some good times since I got to Fandom." He paused. "And, of course, there was the apology. I guess no one's ever turned a cabin glittery before me?"

"Nope, I think you're our glitter-cabin trailblazer," Anders assured him. Vaguely, as he started wiping goop off the furniture, he wondered if the oven was cool enough to clean out yet. Probably not.

Ronan was wondering the same thing; he gave it a stern look, and then muttered a few words to it in the Speech. A pause; reply. A pause; reply. Another string of words, and then Ronan laid his hand right in on the oven rack. "There you go," he said. "That should do it; it should be cool enough to clean now."

"Holy frak, did you just talk the oven into cooling down?" asked Anders. He reached out and touched the rack gingerly with one fingertip, as if he didn't quite believe it yet, then whistled and got to work on the inside of it.

"Most useful thing ever," he said wistfully. "Man, I wish I had special powers."

Ronan nodded. "That wasn't even really wizardry. If you learned the Speech, you could have done the same thing. Not the glitter, but definitely you could have spoken to the oven." He grinned. "Objects like that can be very stubborn, but if you know how to talk to them..."

"And people think yelling at the TV is pointless." Anders shook his head. "Was that stuff you said . . . is that the Speech? What is it, some kind of wizards' pep talk for machines?"

"Yeah, it was the Speech. It's... the language that was used to speak the universe into being. At least, where I come from. Everything responds to it, everything understands it, at least on some level." Ronan shrugged. "So I can use it to talk to the TV, or the toaster, or the ocean. It just... yeah."

"Huh." Anders peered thoughtfully at the oven. "Talking to toasters . . . that one, actually, I could probably do at home, but not the sort of toasters you . . . never mind."

He shrugged and grabbed a wet sponge from the sink to scrub at the inside of the oven some more. "You can explain it to me some more later, or while we finish cleaning up or something, 'kay?"

And ~~to wrap the scene FTB-ily~~ he proceeded to put a little extra effort into cleaning up, before the batter on his clothes got too dry to be of any . . . use.

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Fifth Floor Common Room, Saturday Afternoon

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