third floorn common room - saturday afternoon - 12/13

[new-to-liirness.livejournal.com]

Liir had done the job of getting the ingredients together and now he was putting them out in little bowls for easy access. He'd picked up a nice selection of different cookie shapes for gingerbread men and mice and all manner of moddable animals so hopefully Tony would be pleased. The cookie sheets were off to the side, and he'd printed out the recipe in case Tony needed reference.

[for one, obviously, but open as a common room is!]

Comments

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"It smells good already," Tony said. He popped a couple of gumdrops in his mouth.

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He grinned.

"The spices are fresh," he admitted.

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Tony ate a mint candy. "What do I do?"

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He pointed to the dry ingredients.

"If you wanted to start sifting those together, it would be very helpful," he said.

"May I have one?" he asked, pointing to Tony's mouth. He meant the mint candies.

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"Sure," Tony waved a hand at the bags of candy. "They're for decorating, but I think it's traditional to eat about half of it before the cookies are made. What's sifting? Is it like mixing or something fancier?"

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He picked up the item that looked like a large can with a crank on the side.

"Hold this over the big bowl here and pour the ingredients in. Then you turn that until it's all in the bowl."

He pulled the a mint from the bag and popped it into his mouth.

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Tony poured the ingredients into the sifter and managed not to spill too much. He turned the crank. "Cool," he said.

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"That makes sure that the dry ingredients mix well, also that it isn't prone to get lumpy," he told Tony with a smile.

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"Good," Tony smiled back. "No one wants lumpy gingerbread men." He sifted some more. "How's your week been?"

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"Pretty... well, it's been all right. Ups and down. You?"

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"Not too bad," Tony said. "What's going on?"

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"Lost a friend. Had a very cheerful day due to some sugar. Saw my older brother for the first time in ages. All manner of things."

He mixed the wet ingredients together in his own bowl, creaming them carefully.

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"Lost a friend?" Tony asked. He hadn't heard about anything happening to one of the students. "What happened?"

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"No one was hurt," he said quickly, "she just... got tired of my mistakes."

He was certainly creaming those ingredients.

"I'm not upset, I suppose. Disappointed. Sad. But not upset."

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"I'm sorry," Tony said. "That really sucks."


[Ack, so sorry for dropping this. This weekend has been teh suck.]

[new-to-liirness.livejournal.com]

[happens; no worries; SP is love; wanna say they can give them out Monday?]

"It's... unfortunate. But eventual. Thank you, though."

Then he pointed to Tony's bowl.

"When you're done, could you pass that to me? I've got to mix one into the other and then we have a little while to wait."

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[Sure!]

Tony finished sifting and passed Liir the bowl. "Wait for what?"

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"Once I put this in," he said as he started to mix the two, "we have to let it rest for a little while in the ice box."

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"Okay," Tony said. "You're the expert. Last time I helped bake cookies, I was paying more attention to the fire-engine cookie cutters than the process." He added, "I was six."

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His lips quirked in a faint smile.

"I wasn't allowed in the kitchen when I was that age, unless Sister Cook was feeling very very kindly."

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"Apparently exposure at a young age does more harm than good, then," Tony smiled. "Maybe if I hadn't been allowed in the kitchen - nah, I still wouldn't be a good cook."

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"Well, I did spend an inordinate amount of time with Sister Nurse," he said with a short laugh.

"And I'm rubbish at anything past very basic first aid. So you might be right."

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"Were they really called 'Sister Cook' and 'Sister Nurse'?" Tony asked.

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He nodded.

"The younger sisters had names: Sister Gracielle or Sister Monmadell. But the ones who'd done things for long enough, though, they just took that as their name. Though Sister Cook wasn't that old. Mostly she was cranky and no one used anything but Sister Cook, so she simply went along with it."

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"Huh." Tony considered this. "The nuns I knew all kept their own names."

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"Maunts are an odd breed," he said with a shrug as he made sure the mixture was smooth.

Then he popped it into the ice box.

"But kind. I liked them better than the other children, usually."

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"Did a lot of kids live there?" Tony asked.

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He nodded.

"Lots of orphans," he said, "from mothers in the city or caravans, Quadlings and runaway Munchkins... all kinds."

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"There was a shelter run by nuns in Toronto," Tony said. "They had really strict rules, though. And they didn't have many beds, anyway."

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"The maunts mostly let the children run around and do what they liked," he said with a faint, sad smile.

"Sometimes a sister would look after us, but usually not."

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"Doesn't sound so bad," Tony said.

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He shook his head.

"It wasn't."

He breathed out and tipped his head to the couch.

"Where did you grow up?"

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"Suburb outside of Toronto," Tony said. He hesitated, then added, "I left home when I was thirteen."

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"Fourteen," he said to Tony.

"At least, I think. When she died, anyway."

A glance at Tony had him wanting to ask--

"Why?"

He couldn't help it.

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Tony shrugged. "Parents kicked me out." It didn't come out quite as casual as he'd tried to make it.

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Family, again. Like a shot hitting ground beside his feet, almost like a warning.

He didn't know what to say, never knew what to say, but this struck too close not to say something. He only hoped that he said the right thing.

"I'm glad you're here," he finally said.

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Tony managed a smile. "Me too. And I have other people in my life now. People that want me there." He thought of Henry. "People who won't let me out of their lives." Unlives. Whatever.

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"That's good," he said, thinking about who he had. And who he didn't have.

"I'm glad of that too."

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"I'm glad you're here, too," Tony said. Wow, this conversation had gotten serious. "What are we doing for frosting?" he asked, changing the subject.

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He shook off the seriousness as well, flashed Tony a smile, and tipped his chin towards the kitchen.

"I have the ingredients in the cabinet, but I don't want to mix that up until we've got the cookies in the oven. It dries quickly."

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"Good call," Tony said. "We'd have to eat it all before it dried and I don't know if the sugar rush would be worth it." He popped a couple more gumdrops in his mouth.

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"You don't want to see me on a sugar rush," he said with a shake of his head.

"You might have to peel me from the ceiling."