Fandom High Dormitories

When Wayne checked the weather for that day (even though his days of spending most of his time out chorin' around the farm were currently on hiatus, it was a habit that had yet to die out and probably never would because Wayne was an entity held together by habit and repetition), he saw it was going to start bein' a bit hot, so his breakfast that morning tended to trend on the lighter side of things. More fruits and juices, crepes instead of pancakes for the day, that kind of thing, because he firmly believed that not only was breakfast the most important meal of the day, but it was also important to match the breakfast to the sort of day you were going to have, if you could.

So far, though, everything seemed to be cooperating, even if he did seem to be a bit clumsy this morning, getting a bit of food on his shirt as he was cookin' things up that'll definitely have to be washed out soon, or else it might stain. And that'd be a shame, since this was one of his favorite flannels...

Sure, it looked almost exactly like his complete rainbow array of various flannels, except for the color and the exact pattern if you looked closely, but it was one of the nice ones...

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

Well. Let's see.

All the food Wayne had picked up for breakfast in the morning was present and accounted for. The milk was the right color (for Earth, anywhey), there was no blood in the coffee (fake or otherwise), the lights worked, the stove worked, the only critters that seemed to need being accounted fer were the usual radio squirrels...

Looks like it was a fine day for breakfast, one without anything too squirrelly goin' on, and so that put Wayne in a pretty good mood and maybe even made him a little hopeful for a nice, quiet sort of week after all the Halloween nonsense. Even if it did mean all his classmates would wind up just bored and needing to explore other parts of the dorms, he was absolutely fine with just a nice normal morning with some nice normal breakfast, and he'd preferred it that way, too.

It'd be nice if the rest of the breakfasts for at least this month could be that way, but Wayne defintiely wasn't bettin' the farm on it.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

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! ]]

Wayne was stubborn, especially when it came to things he didn't much care to think about, but, so help him, this waking up Monday morning and not really knowing what sort of place he'd be waking up in was starting to get to him a little bit, so he actually did twitch back a curtain before heading to the common room for a look outside, saw that everything looked normal again, and wondered if maybe some of all that from last week...and the week before...and the week before...was all just some sort of a fever dream or some bad eggs.

It didn't help, either, that when he did make it to the common room and checked the fridge, mostly expecting to find very little by way of appealing offerings and having to really push to make a decent breakfast out of it, he found all the stuff he remembered getting two Sundays ago that had disappeared last Monday. Which make him wonder if this Monday was actually last Monday, see: fever dream or perhaps some strange sort of other situation where the last week hadn't actually happened and he'd only thought it did.

But he still had a couple of cuts on his knuckles and probably that ruined shirt to prove otherwise.

Ah, well. If things were back to normal now....he would say he wouldn't look that gift horse in the mouth, but you knew Wayne was totally the sort of person that would inspect that gift horse's mouth so thoroughly, he might as well become a horse dentist.

But he was going to make breakfast, an actual breakfast with some real food, all the stuff for the omelettes and hashbrowns and sausage he was planning on making last Monday back and ready to be used. So he put on the coffee, got started on the cooking, and he supposed it would only be a matter of time before the girls started coming in.

Because tradition.

[[ monday morning breakfast post is open as always! ]]