Fifth Floor Common Room, Saturday Afternoon

[not_in_the_book]

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.)

Comments

[not_in_the_book]

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?"

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"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."

[not_in_the_book]

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.

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

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."

[not_in_the_book]

"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?"

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"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.

[not_in_the_book]

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."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"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."

[not_in_the_book]

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..."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"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?"

[not_in_the_book]

"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."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"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.