Third Floor Common Room; Monday Morning [10/21].

[howareyanow]

At some point last week, Wayne had been making some notes about some of the regionally inspired breakfasts they'd been having to carry on over to his own Monday Morning Breakfasts, but, really, when all was said and done, when he actually got to making breakfast that morning, he decided, fuck, all that was gonna do was make him him miss the place. Not necessarily miss bein' on vacation, he didn't really do well with idleness and vacations and things like that, but he had enjoyed the trip, and decided maybe getting back to the more traditional stuff could be in order jus' to sort of set up the idea that it was back to the old usual grind again.

So there were pancakes and eggs and bacon and what have you as per usual, and that was all well and dandy, but then there was the whole issue with the coffee, and the fact that what Wayne got when he brewed up a pot was less of life-giving bean juice and more midnight matinee horror show. Because what he got was definitely a pot of what was absolutely fake blood (because real blood didn't really look like that).

He sniffed it, made a face, and poured the whole pot right down the sink and rinsed it out (and the sink, too, lest it look like he was up to something decidedly not breakfast related around here), and tried again. Same thing. Dumped that, figgured mebbe the third time's a charm, but no such luck. Which left him to narrow his eyes at the coffee maker, squinting at it accusingly.

"Now, look here, bud," he said, fully aware that he was standing there, talking to a kitchen appliance, "if you've got a problem with coffee this morning, then you've got a problem with me, an' I suggest you let that one marinate!"

This island had put them through a lot of terrible things, sure but no coffee on a Monday morning after a vacation? Fuck a duck, that was just a whole new level of cruelty that Wayne almost couldn't stand to contemplate.

[[ My schedule's a bit wonky this week, so a bit of SP on my end, more'n likeleh, but open breakfast is definitely open! ]]

Comments

[chirpchirpchirp]

"Wait, who's marinating?"

See Vette. See Vette poke her head curiously into the common room, blinking. She didn't smell the usual coffee, but the familiar scents of bacon and eggs and sausage and pancakes were still in the air, so she'd been mostly sure Wayne was in there...

But the coffee?

"Morning, Wayne," she added, once she was sure it was still him. "How are ya now?"

[howareyanow]

There was a bit of a hesitation, as Wayne needed a moment to weigh out whether his sense of propriety was stronger than his desire to not be disingenuous.

Propriety won out, as always, but it was by little more than C-hair of a thin margin.

"Good," he drawled, "n'you?"

They could get to the marinatin' after their Ps'n'Qs.

[chirpchirpchirp]

"Oh, not so bad," Vette replied, thus sealing the holy breakfast covenant. Or... something. She offered him a sunny Monday morning smile anyway, meandering her way over to inspect the breakfast offerings.

And side-eyeing that coffee pot something fierce.

"Did someone run through all the grounds while we were on vacation and not buy more?"

[howareyanow]

"Oh," said Wayne, and sounding particularleh cross about it, too, "there's grounds enough. Beans, too, fer that matter! But the coffee maker's actin' a bit squirrelly this mornin', Vette. Go on," he nodded at the machine vaguely, as if he couldn't bear to bring himself to actually look it in the eyes right now, "try'n make yerself a pot, you'll see what I mean."

[chirpchirpchirp]

Well, now Wayne was getting that side-eye, at least for a moment, but Vette was curious enough that she was making her way over and filling the machine with water and grounds and setting it to perk all the same.

Hopefully Wayne would forgive her for hunkering in with an eagle-eye kind of interest while the first of the syrupy goo started to drizzle through.

"... What."

[bookbeltof_love]

"Gooooooooooooooood moooooooooooooooooorning!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

One guess who was bouncing on in and, well, no one really needed more guesses than that, right?

[howareyanow]

"Egg.Zact.Leh," said Wayne, almost triumphantly, as if he'd just won some long, drawn, outstanding debate between the two of them. "Now, I'd bet my best bovine that that right there is nothin' but corn syrup an' food coloring."

And decidedly not coffee!

[howareyanow]

And anyone who needed more than one guess had clearleh been eatin' too much sugar cereal.

"Nina!" Wayne's usual bark of greeting was a little rough around the edges, thanks to a particular deprivation of caffeine at the moment. "How are ya now?"

[bookbeltof_love]

"I'm great!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she said, since Nina didn't need sugar or caffeine to function like she'd eaten all the sugar cereal.

Nina did frown at little, though, since his greeting was kind of—

"Are you, like, okay?????????????????????"

[chirpchirpchirp]

Well, that was Vette, fearlessly sticking her finger in the drip, pulling it out to inspect it and tilting her head at the weird translucent purplish tint against her fingertip before popping it into her mouth.

"... If it wasn't so sticky, it'd actually be pretty good," she mused. "It'd be fun to put on pancakes, if you wanted to freak somebody out."

[howareyanow]

Wayne grumbled a little, frowning particularly hard at the pan while he flipped the pancake on it, then huffed out what sounded almost like a sigh. "Coffee maker's actin' squirrel--"

He started, then stopped, with a glance over toward where he was pretty sure he heard one of those note-writin' radio squirrels squeaking a bit in objection to that particular term, and he grunted and tried again.

"The coffee maker's off," he amended, with the tone of a man who couldn't help taking it a bit personally when something didn't work the way it should, and who found it particularleh offensive when that something that wasn't working involved his coffee.

[bookbeltof_love]

"Oh."

Well, like, that was a crying shame, wasn't it?

(Nina was not particularly upset about this.)

"I suppose, like, you could have a soda instead?????????????????????" she offered. "Like, once you add cream and sugar to coffee it's basically a soda already, right??????????????????"

Nina considered her life, her choices.

"Ooooooooooor you could heat up a soda and then add cream and sugar too it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I bet, then, it'd be just like coffee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Nina didn't actually think so but, well, once she'd thought of that abomination she'd had to share.

[howareyanow]

"Now why would you wanna go and ruin a perfectly decent set of pancakes," said Wayne, who was now, of course, preparing such a set of pancakes (and all the other stuff) for Vette now, "by dressin' 'em up with that stuff when you've got perfectly good maple syrup on hand to dress 'em up with instead?"

This was downright sacrilege, Vette.

"Figgur it ouwt."

[chirpchirpchirp]

Vette tilted her head a little, trying, in fact, to figgur it ouwt.

"Well," she mused, "after the island spent all day screaming at me, I'm willing to bet it's that weird time of year again where everything is supposed to be spooky. So it'd be thematic, right? Practically," she was gonna say it, Wayne, "tradition."

[howareyanow]

"Please don't tell me," said Wayne, in the exact same pitch as his usual grumbled, as he side-squinted Nina pretty hard just about then, "that's how's you all make coffee back where you're from."

He wouldn't at all be surprised by it, of course, but that wasn't going to make him feel any less sick about the idea.

"An' I drink my coffee black, anywhey," he added stoutly. "The way God intended."

[howareyanow]

"Don't," said Wayne, sharply, firmly, and then he let it linger there for a good long while, to really get it to settle in, "....you blaspheme. There ain't nothin' traditional about puttin' fake blood on pancakes. Go ahead an' do it all ya like, but don't go runnin' around actin' like it some sort of tradition, Vette. You don't fuck with tradition!"

[chirpchirpchirp]

"I'm not from this planet, Wayne," Vette pointed out primly. "I have to make my own traditions. But if you know any better ones for this holiday, I'm all ears."

Ear-cones. Whatever. She'd be listening intently while reaching for the bag of coffee beans and pulling a few out to crunch on dry.

[bookbeltof_love]

"I don't drink coffee at all," Nina said cheerfully. "So, like, I don't know how people make it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

She was blatantly lying.

"Besides, like, what is the difference between warm soda and coffee anyway??????????????? Is it the bubbles you object to???????????????????"

[handystand]

"I really miss the sea air," Okuyasu said, wandering into the common room as he sleepily stretched his arms out. "But then again, smelling your cooking is pretty nice too!"

He shot his roommate a big smile.

[howareyanow]

That big smile was getting met with a seriously squinting side-eye.

"We live on an island in the sea, big shoots," Wayne pointed out.

[lilac_eyed_lieutenant]

Unaware of any particular issues with other preferred morning beverages, Tisarwat made it up to the third floor for the usual breakfast, eager to get started on getting things back into the swing of the regular routine.

"Good morning, everyone," she said as she came in, as usual, with her flask on the ready. "Would anyone like some tea?"

[howareyanow]

And before Tisarwat even had a chance to finish that question, there was Wayne, putting out his puppy mug with the usual "I'd have some tea," only it was definitely a bit more aggressively eager on account of what was going on with the coffee just then.

[lilac_eyed_lieutenant]

Tisarwat was used to this response from Wayne, but he was hardly ever so...quick on it. She blinked a little in surprise, and then again as she realized that the mug was actually clean for a change, no coffee residue clinging to it, and she smiled a little, pleased that maybe there was hope for him yet.

Dutifully, feeling quite pleased by the turn of events and blissfully ignorant of any other reasons for it, she poured the tea. "And how are you today, Wayne? Did you enjoy the school trip?"

[handystand]

"It's not the same," Okuyasu said, shaking his head. "It's cold and stuff. And there aren't any turtles. Not the same sort of air at all."

He eyed the coffee pot.

"...what's wrong with the coffee?"

[howareyanow]

See, now...now Wayne figgured Vette had to be at least doin' that on purpose. "Traditions fer Halloween," he said, "involves kids dressin' up in costumes and people handing out candy, and pumpkin patches and, sure, alright, spooky things, too, but there's nothin' spooky about fake blood on pancakes...'cept how wrong it is, when you've got perfectly good maple syrup on hand. S'gonna give me at least a few nightmares, more'n likeleh..."