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Fifth Floor Common Room [Evening]

Rilla had discovered slice and bake cookies today.

Which was why she was now muttering to herself, wondering why she couldn't get the little hearts in the middle of the sugar cookies to not look incredibly deformed.

Rilla's life was very difficult.

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Gabrielle had a nose for trouble. Or food. Or both.

Okay, it was both, with a healthy dose of 'wanting to help people' on the side.

Which was why, when she wandered upstairs several floors in her distracted quest to clear her thoughts (there was a passage of the scroll she was working on that just wouldn't cooperate) she poked her head into the common room and spotted Rilla.

"Is something wrong?"

In her experience, there was an extremely broad range of answers to that question, but she doubted it was anything like a giant coming to stomp the dorms if someone didn't pay him protection money.

Rilla sighed heavily. "I can't get the hearts to look like hearts," she complained. "Well, the symbolic hearts, anyway, not what a real heart looks like."

She tilted her head appraisingly. "Though these are getting closer to looking like actual hearts." She peeked into her father's medical books every now and then. "It isn't pretty."

"It's a little disappointing, isn't it?" Gabrielle commiserated, then yelped as a shower of rose petals materialized out of thin air overhead. "Where is it going wrong? Do they get mooshy when you slice the dough?"

If only there were such a thing as refrigeration, she could change the culinary world back home by introducing cookies like this. Pity about that lack of electricity; they hadn't figured out what to do with lightning besides tie kites to giants' belts and let them run through a storm.

"What are you doing?" Someone never had to bake anything in their lives. Unlives. Whatever.

Harper looked rather out of breath when she came running in. "Are we watching Rumor Gal in here tonight? I checked all the other floors and no one else has it on," she asked between gasps.

"They get very mooshy," Rilla said, holding up the cookie sheet so Gabrielle could see the woebegone things on them.

...covered in rose petals.

"Making a pretty failure of making cookies," Rilla sighed with a pout.

"What's Rumor Gal?" Rilla asked.

Oh, poor, poor deprived Rilla.

Maladicta peered over at them before shrugging. "They don't smell inedible. So you're already doing better than the ones from the reserve's attempt at baking."

"Aww, poor things," Gabrielle exclaimed, picking rose petals off the cookies. (Please, like modern-day kitchen hygiene concerns were on her radar.)

". . . you don't think baking the entire thing, and then slicing it, would work, do you?"

Modern-day ovens: also not so much on her radar.

"You've never seen Rumor Gal?" asked Harper, looking very shocked. "It's just the best television show ever! Everyone watches it."

She was willing to overlook that she was only introduced to it just a few months ago, and there weren't a lot of die-hard fans this season.

Edited 2011-02-08 02:43 (UTC)

"I hadn't thought of that!" Rilla exclaimed.

Of course it hadn't occurred to her to check the directions on the package. It was also why her oven was set to "about halfway."

"Did Karla make those?" Rilla asked.

Because Rilla was petty.

Talking to Nico about ice cream yesterday had reminded Jason that he'd left some ice cream in the freezer a while ago, and he wasn't sure if a) it was still there, and b) it was still any good. Investigation was definitely necessary, but when he got to the common room, he found himself watching Rilla instead. "Uh, are you okay?" he asked.

"I want to be part of everyone!" Rilla exclaimed. "Tell me about the show!"

"I am an abject cooking failure," Rilla declared.

Rilla had a finely honed sense of perspective.

Gabrielle could cook fish, and rabbits, and random root vegetables; baking was sadly beyond her, especially since their one iron pot suitable for attempting to bake anything in had been cracked in two over a random bandit's head a couple dozen adventures ago. (Thanks for that, Xena.)

"It might be worth a try," she mused with that ever-present but occasionally sadly misplaced optimism. "We might have to saw them into cookies afterward though."

Or they'd just be mushy in the middle and end up looking funny anyhow.

"It's about these kids from New York City who do all sort of neat stuff and go to all these fancy parties," said Harper, speaking in a rush because of her excitement. "I'm from New York myself, but they make my city look so much more exciting than what I've seen."

While trying to catch her breath, she glanced at what Rilla was working on. "Oooh, are you baking?"

Oh, Rilla.

"I wouldn't know for sure, just that it might kill anything other than a troll."

"I think there is another dough loaf--" technical term, "in the refrigerator," Rilla said. "Shall we try that for another batch?"

"Definitely Karla's handiwork," Rilla declared, nodding.

She paused. "Have you met a troll? Are they under a bridge?"

"They are supposed to be cookies," Rilla sighed, "but I can't get the hearts to look heart-y."

Jason gave Rilla a sympathetic look, and did his best not to snicker. "What are you trying to cook? Maybe it's not that bad."

"Cookies with hearts in them," Rilla said. "But they are kind of...sad and lumpy instead."

"They tend to live in the mountains, actually," Maladicta replied. "Bridges bring up bad memories for them."

A beat.

"As do goats."

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Fifth Floor Common Room [Evening]

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