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howareyanow

Wayne almost didn't even make it on over to the common room fer breakfast that morning. There'd just been this heavy feeling weighing down his broad shoulders since he woke up that morning wondering what was even the point? No one even really cared about MMB and the tradition of it all, 'cept mebbe him, really, and it wouldn't even matter soon, anyway, he'd only had two or three more of 'em left before he graduated and it was back to the farm, back to chorin', so what did it even matter? Mebbe you could fuck with tradition after all; mebbe you should.

Odds were somethin' terrible was going to happen once he got down there, anyway, like all the eggs were actually monsters or all his pancake batter turned to slime or some other such tomfuckery...

But somehow, he managed to pull through this fog of reservations and excuses and shuffled reluctantly down the hall to the common room, not at all comforted by the fact that the eggs were just eggs and his pancake batter remained batter, because that just meant that, if the breakfast was normal, then something else was likeleh to go pear-shaped instead, but at least there was something in the fact that he'd have a good solid breakfast in his stomach to prepare him for whatever it was that might be headin' their way...

[[ open breakfast is open, of course! ]]

x_discospider_x

Ummmm....today had been the last day of classes, which made it officially summer...how was nobody totally on a party for that fact???

It was, at least, a problem easily fixed, so with help from Wayne and Astrid (and Astrid's T&C discount, heh heh heh), snacks, beverages, and a keg were procured and dragged all the way up to what he was now dubbing The Party Floor, a few pizzas were ordered, and if the mass text wasn't enough, each of the party planners went down to a respective floor to holler out the news of a party on the sixth floor (each to varying degrees of shouty-ness).

So now it was time to pump up some music, crack open some drinks, and party it up.

And if no one else showed up, there was worse company than Astrid (no comment on Wayne but he did do most of the keg carrying), but that would be kinda lame on everyone's part.

Who didn't party on the last day of school before summer??

[[ I'm stuck at work,my brain is dead, have an impromptu OCD-free party, idk! ]]

howareyanow

Mebbe it was jus' because he knew there weren't many of these Monday morning breakfasts left; mebbe it was because he knew that this place had gone and made him quite a bit paranoid about this sort of thing, but....when Wayne got down to the common room to get started on his weekly feedings and the most important meal of the day and everything was pretty normal and straightforward and how it should be for yet another week, he couldn't help feeling...suspicious. Like the other foot was about to drop. Or that all this quiet was likeleh trying to build up into something truly, spectacularly full of tomfuckery that there was no way he could even prepare for it.

So he spent a good deal of his prep and cooking trying to find even the smallest little thing even slightly off, as if spotting something like that would mean that he wasn't in for a doozy of a day when all this normal gave up and gave him one last hurrah.

But, no. No, everything seemed ship-shape and pretty normal.

Fer now...and hopefully fer the rest of his time here, but he wasn't getting his hopes up any time soon!

[[ open breakfast is open, of course! ]]

howareyanow

Anyone who knew Wayne on any of these sorts of weekends knew that he, uhhhh....he didn't care much fer kids, and there was a good chance that by the time Monday rolled around, they'd all be gone, anyway, but you never really knew around here, so he was bracing himself to need to provide a few more extra pancakes and a few more eggs than usual that morning fer breakfast.

And trying not to think too much on the fact that he'd had a kid show up on a weekend like this before, but was spared that particular experience this year.

Made sense, though, if you thought about it.

What with graduation right around the corner, an' all...

[[ open breakfast is of course open! ]]

lovethatjourney

As advertised, there was a party today, because this week was a lot and Alexis figured people needed to blow off some steam. Maybe hook up a little. Maybe it'd be a good precursor to prom!

So the common room was decorated, there was some good grinding music playing since there was a dance floor and all, and the counter was covered in snacks and drinks in case people needed something to hold while they mulled around. And she had entertainment in the form of games, so maybe that would get people going.

Welcome to the party! Alexis was here to facilitate you getting smooches!

howareyanow

Did it....did it seem a little warm in here, lateleh? Or mebbe that was just Wayne.

But not in that spring making its way toward summer sorta way, but in that uncomfortable under the skin sorta way that definitely put to mind exactly what you'd es'pect to come to mind to someone who bred dogs as part of his living.

It was definitely a little warm in here, lateleh.

Not that that dissuaded Wayne from still rocking the flannel, though he very noteably seemed to have one extra button undone on his shirt as usual as he tried to distract himself with a few more videos on his daily hockeyfights.com fix before heading down to the common room to get started on breakfast. He was pretty sure, though, that the hockey fights only made it worse.

And then he was left squinting into his pan with each new pancake, because he wasn't sure if they were just all coming out in lewd and inappropriate, Not-Safe-Fer-School shapes, or if that was just all he was seein' in 'em that morning.

Either way, there was breakfast. Let's not talk about how all the pancakes seemed to look like dicks and boobs. Well, and butts. A few of those were definitely looking like butts.

Well. Fuck a du--

--nope. Fuck. Just fuck.

[[ i am so sorry. anyway! open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Waste not, want not was definitely an adage that Wayne tried to live by as best he could, and he had no idea if all the containers of fried rice in the fridge that morning had to do with Sabine's excess take-out just the other deeey, or if this was a completely unrelated leftover incident, but he would have felt kind of bad if he just ignored it all and went on about making more food when there was already so much.

Thankfully, all you really had to do with something like fried rice is mebbe fry it up again for a few light minutes and crack an egg over it and you pert'near had breakfast ready to go.

So it was a good thing there were plenty of eggs to be had, too.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Now, Wayne wouldn't want to say he was gonna blame Sabine fer this, but...a part of him felt he sorta had to blame Sabine (well, Sabine and her stomping around and slamming cupboards looking for her cereal last week) on this.

This being the overwhelming amounts of sugar cereal scattered all around the common room that morning.

Still in their boxes, thankfulleh, but the mere presence of such things felt like an insult to the fine institution that was Monday morning breakfasts!

But Wayne did his best to diligently work around the cereal to start cooking up something much more suitable fer the most important meal of the day, and he had enough faith in his fellow students to know that a few of them would choose the proper route and have him fix up the usual plates, but he knew there were a few that would likeleh just go fer the sugar cereal and probableh have too much of it, to boot.

Like fuckin' degens.

(Though he s'posed there was something to be said about not letting things go to waste, even though some things were better off bein' just wasted!)

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Breakfast that morning...might be a bit slow going.

Because when Wayne came into the common room that morning fer Monday Morning Breakfast, something felt...off. Something definitely felt...not right. And that was normal, realleh, fer most Mondays around here, but the real kicker here, unlike most Monday mornings that were a bit...off....Wayne couldn't figgur out exactly why.

And, realleh, that there was the worst kind of off.

Everything seemed normal, but he didn't trust it, so it was with great caution and mebbe even a bit of nervousness that he opened every cabinet, every drawer, expecting something awful to be inside or something to jump out at him, but so far, everything had been fine. The same suspicious caution was practiced in opening up the flour, pouring the milk, with the crack of each and every egg.

So far, so good, he s'posed, but that just meant surely something real bad was lying in wait at pert'near any second now...

...mebbe Shuri really had been onto something yesterday with all her booby traps.

[[ and open breakfast is open! if a bit suspicious! ]]

scoffs_at_tradition

Do you know what happens when a scientifically minded engineering genius gets a little paranoid?

An elaborate freaking Rube Goldberg-esque booby trapped common rooms, that's what.

Come on in! But watch out for the lasers on the floor, the bowls of whipped cream ready to tip onto you and the giant foghorn ready to go off if you trip an alarm.

Shuri herself was on the sofa under a blanket watching the ultimate in comfort TV: ~~Mythbusters~~ It's Science As Long as You Write It Down.

howareyanow

Welp.

Wayne sure hoped no one 'round here had one of those peanut allergies, because, boy, did he have some bad news for them.

Last week as a whole was pretty quiet, so Wayne was expecting at least another bit of tom fuckery around the kitchen that morning, and he was right. And it came in the form of a whole mess of peanut butter in the cabinets.

Walls of peanut butter.

Cabinets stuffed to the brim.

Drawers filled with those flat little plastic packets of 'em that you get at hotel breakfasts.

Thankfully, there were still plenty of the usual things behind all the peanut butter, but if you had all that peanut butter, it seemed a bit odd to just not use some of it, so he worked a bit of it into some of the pancakes, and even some crepes, and he was all fer anyone wanting to use it on regular toast, but anyone wanting to work it into some French toast could just fuck right off. Who had time for that?

(Well, technicalleh speaking, he had no Monday classes, so he did. He had time for that, but fuck off anyway).

[[ open common room, open breakfast, of couuuuurse! ]]

howareyanow

For all the things Wayne could have expected to go wrong when trying to tackle Monday Morning breakfast the Monday after a school trip, this...wasn't actually that bad. He was half expecting everything to turn out with fish in it (or, more specifically, fer some reason, lobsters), or with noodles, or all the untensils were replaced with chopsticks (which, really, originated in China, anywhey, so way to go on that one, super cheif), but...

...none of those things happened.

In fact, most of the the usual standard hearty breakfast fare turned out just fine, no odd ingredients, no loops thrown with odd cooking impliments. A perfectly normal, typical, breakfast-as-expected.

Well...

'cept fer the pancakes.

Wayne was trying not to think about the pancakes.

[[ open common room, open breakfast, of course! ]]

howareyanow

Wayne didn't know which was more irritating: the fact that half his pancakes were turning out heart-shaped even though Valentine's Day was clearly over, or the fact that the other half of his pancakes seemed to be turning out with the face of either George Washington or Abraham Lincoln on them since it was apparently Presidents Day today.

On the one hand, he didn't care much for Valentine's Day at all, but, on the other hand, he generally didn't care for eating things that had people's faces on them, either.

But he s'posed, in the end, it all got et all the same, so he was determined to handle it in the most tried and true Wayne method he knew: by simply, staunchly ignoring it as best he could.

[[ open common room, open breakfast! ]]

howareyanow

Despite the fact that there had been no Superbowl parties here in the dorms yesterday, to the best of Wayne's knowledge (or even any Puppy Bowl ones, although, fuck, he could watch Puppy Bowl all day!), the common room was all but overflowing with Superbowl party leftovers.

With no indication of the usual ingredients he picked up on Sundays when he could in sight.

And even though Wayne had, by now, started to expect this sort of thing, it still made him grumble quite a bit, be grateful he still at least kept an emergency supply of coffee in his room for days like this, and was glad he came a little bit prepared to try'n make the best out of the situation.

There were, at least, inexpicably, plenty of eggs, so he'd just have to lean into that while making the best of the leftovers.

He might be able to make a decent scramble with cocktail weenies, mebbe a little bit of guacamole toast, a potato chip frittata, and a chili burrito.

And, of course, the ubiquitous leftoever pizza.

All in all, he s'posed it could be (and had been!) worse...

[[ open common room, open breakfast! ]]

howareyanow

There appeared to be some new bookcases in the common room, including smaller ones that sat awkwardly on the table and the counters in the kitchenette, but not just any new bookcases. No, these bookcases appeared to be filled with breakfast pastries and sandwiches instead of actual books.

Was Wayne going to ask why there were all sorts of bookcases filled with breakfast pastries and sandwiches in the common room?

Hard. No.

Was he going to generally ignore the bookcases filled with breakfast pastries and sandwiches and get on his way to cooking up some proper breakfast as per usual?

Can confirm!

He supposed some people might have taken it as a sign that most of the work was done for him and he didn't need to bother with the usual stuff, but Wayne would much rather err on the side of having as little to do with island tom fuckery as possible.

[[ open common room, open breakfast! usual fuck-you-monday sp likeleh to apply! ]]

howareyanow

Without anything too funneh happening over the weekend, Wayne was able to actually follow through with his plans for breakfast that morning, meaning his mood was much better, although the differences were subtle at best (unless, he s'posed, you knew where to look for them). Which meant tha the was able to get everything and prepare everything for a full English, at the behest of one of their full English classmates.

Well, perhaps not the behest of. Enola had mentioned beans, and that was enough to turn it into a thing, albeit only in Wayne's mind, but that was enough that his mind could finally settle a bit now that it was done and over with without anyone being ~~sixth~~ six to mess up with it.

And he sure hoped everyone was hungry (they usually were), because he was making a lot of it, as if to compensate for all the sugar cereal and Poptarts from last week.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Having been only ~~sixth~~ six this weekend sort of messed up Wayne's usual shopping habits to get everything he'd need for his Monday Morning Breakfast, which was particularleh disappointing because Enola's request for baked beans last week had him lookin' to fix up something full and English. Now, sometimes, the island seemed to predict what he was lookin' to fix up and provided for him all the same, when he wasn't able to do the shopping himself, but this Monday was not one of those times.

All there seemed to be was some leftover sugar cereal and Poptarts.

Well, at least there was some coffee.

And mebbe he might be able to do something with this leftover pizza? Mebbe he should just put breakfast on hold for a small amount of time so he could get some proper food...

...or mebbe hope Nina showed up, and she could make do with what was in the fridge with that nonsense tom fuckery she called cooking...

...fuck a duck.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

apocalypsehow

~~Because it was funnier~~ Five had woken up perfectly normal this morning. Normal and enjoying the fact that his roommate wasn't there so he could work on setting up a chain of events that may have started the apocalypse now that he had access to more materials.

You know. Since it wasn't destroyed in said apocalypse and all.

But right now, he was just enjoying a nice cup of coffee without anyone throwing knives at him and contemplating going to get himself a donut.

[open!]

howareyanow

Well, Wayne hadn't really gotten much of a chance to get the word out about Monday Morning Breakfast to any of the new kids, but, fuck, there were only four of them, and where word of mouth failed, it seemed this place had a good habit of spreading word of nose once things really got cooking. And he felt much less crunched for time now that he didn't have a first period class (or any class on Mondays, fuck!), so he coudl really enjoy just a good solid morning full of making food and feeding friends.

With it being the first MMB of the semester, he stuck with all the usual, often moddable classics, especially the pancakes and the bacon and the eggs and potatoes, but also some fruit for more healthfully minded, plenty of juice and milk in the fridge, and, of course, some good fucking coffee in the pot.

It was, after all, the most important meal of the day, especially when that day was Monday!

[[ open breakfast is oooopen! ]]

howareyanow

Wayne was planning up a trip back home for the holiday and change since he had the time and the resources, but he figured he'd work his plans around squeezing in one more Monday Morning Breakfast for the year before he hopped back north of the border until the next semester. With that in mind, and also the fact that it was pretty clear skies after that nice little bit of tom fuckery last week, and there were no classes he needed to get to, you better believe Wayne went all out with the breakfast that morning, with all the usual staples.

He considered doing a little bit of Christmas spin on the pancakes, but he figgured everyone'd had enough of that sort of thing fer a while now!

Either way, it was Monday, there was breakfast, everything was nice and back to normal, jus' as it should be, and so Wayne was...mostleh content.

Jus' so's long as he didn't think too much on the snowmobile. At least it hadn't been lost in vain.

[[ and open breakfast is of course open! ]]

howareyanow

Wayne was in such a good mood when he looked out the window that morning before heading down to the common room to get started on breakfast that there was almost even an actually perceptible hint of a smile on his face as he stood at his usual position in front of the stove flipping pancakes and scrambling eggs. It was about time this place got some decent snow around here, and he could finally get out there and put that snowmobile he'd been working on in the scrapyard fer what felt like pert'near ages to good use!

Of course, this was all mostly because he had yet to be out in the snow, because of course there couldn't just be a nice, good snowfall 'round here without....conditions, BUT...at least he'd also get to see how that snowmobile might fare when it came to attempting to run down candy canes that seemed to think dragging people under the snow was funneh.

For now, though, still blissfully ignorant, Wayne was just going to cheerfully (well, cheerfully for Wayne, which generally meant slightly more upbeat than a solid stoic line) attend to his breakfast while looking forward to snowmobiling it up once he was done with class fer the day.

[[ and open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

When Wayne got to the common room early that morning to get a start on breakfast, he was not expecting to see that not only was the Christmas Troy still there, it was also fully decked out just the way they'd left it.

He probably should have expected it, really, and didn't know why he felt even a little bit surprised.

He squinted a little at Troy before moving to fridge and the cupboards to start getting everything out to start cooking, until a voice emerged from all that tinsel and garland ornaments.

"Wayne? A little help?" When that wasn't met with an immediate leap to action, he added, a little witheringly, "I really have to use the bathroom."

"Oh, fer fuck's sake!" Wayne huffed slightly, setting down his pots and pans in a clatter before turning sharply to access the situation. Because when a man asked fer help, you helped 'em, but they'd really gone a bit overboard, and Troy, in general, sort of needed all the help he could get.

"I'll go find scissors," he concluded.

Or, at this point, to cut through all that bullshit, some gardening sheers...

[[ open of course! ]]

x_discospider_x

Exactly how all this Christmas decoration stuff showed up in the third floor common room was anyone's guess, really. Maybe somehow, all the stuff from the party on Friday magically just got dumped in the common room instead of the trash.

And exactly how Astrid wound up there explaining some of it to Troy was also sort of a mystery, but there she was, and the concept of Christmas trees and their exploration of their purpose and meaning turned into...well...

There was an small tree on Troy's head with an angel topper; his body was wrapped in garlands and lights, while his hands were held out like branches, holding clumps of sparkling tinsel with a blinking Rudolph nose over his own, while Astrid, marveling the whole time that this was apparently a thing she was doing, was singing along with the gremlin carolers in the room while carefully adding bulb ornaments to the whole ensemble.

"O Christmas Troy, O Christmas Troy," they sang, "thy candles shine so brightly. O Christmas Troy, O Christmas Troy, much pleasure though canst give me~"

It was at that moment that Wayne, looking to grab a late lunch, appeared in the doorway, squinted hard at these shenanigan tom fuckeries, and turned his head to look down the hall to consider just leaving.

"Hi, Wayne," Astrid offered. "How are ya now?"

Well, fuck. Now retreat was a little more difficult, wasn't it?

"Good," he replied cautiously, "n'you?"

"Oh," Astrid shrugged, grinning faintly as she hung another bulb on Troy's garlands, "not so bad. Want to help?"

The low grumble of a response indicated that he didn't really want to, not particularleh, but...well, when a man asks fer help...

"Why do you guys do stuff like this?" he had to ask first.

Astrid looked to Troy, since this had been mainly his idea and she just generally went along with things, and he shrugged, as best he could underneath all of his lovely Christmas trappings.

"'Cuz it's fun."

"Yeah," Astrid offered, because she really didn't have anything better herself.

And Wayne squinted a little harder.

"The sight of thee," the singing continued, now with Wayne stoicly joining in and adding more tinsel, "at Christmas time, spreads hope and gladness far and wide~

"O Christmas Troy," Troy was now joining in with his own empassioned harmony, "O Christmas Troy, thou tree most fair and lovely!"

Astrid stepped back to admire their work, with a grateful look at Wayne, who mostly just looked away as if to absolve himself from any hand in this.

"Don't move," she suggested, because some of that stuff was very precariously perched on Troy's person.

He oblidged, definitely long enough for Astrid to snap a picture, but as he held his breath to hold still, he had to point out, "This nose smells like special drink."

[[ why, yes, I did have to take this scene and revise it for Fandom, I could not live with myself if I did not. ANYWAY, it's open like a common room, come admire the Christmas Troy! ]]

howareyanow

Wayne had spent a good deal of time, when he got to the common room early that morning to get breakfast going before he had to mosey on over to his class, just sort of squinting into the fridge, occasionally leaking a disconsolate growl-grumble about it, because what he had expected to be in the fridge was not in the fridge, which was a problem, because Wayne didn't particularleh like it when things didn't go as expected.

But he'd convinced himself that he'd be making a very Thanksgiving-themed breakfast that morning, on account of all the leftovers he'd expected (and confirmed having existed all throughout the weekend) to be in the fridge that morning. Only to show up, ready to whip up a Thanksgiving-specific menu, and discover that all the leftovers....were gone.

Another grumble escaped him, because wouldn't it jus' figgur? As soon as he prepares himself fer this sort of thing, the island goes and switches it up on him.

At least, that's what he figgured it was. It made more sense than the idea that anyone had actually eaten all of it by now...

So it was back to a solid, basic, typical breakfast that morning, while Wayne tried hard to not be too disappointed about it.

[[ open breakfast is open! And lacking in leftovers! ]]

howareyanow

Y'wanna know what? If all Wayne had to deal with that morning was an excess of cranberries that made him feel compelled to whip up cranberry pancakes that morning instead of jus' regular ones, he'd take it. Especially since he knew American Thanksgiving was coming up here soon, which meant that next Monday was probably going to be all turkey in this common room and there prob'ly weren't nothing he could do about it, neither.

So cranberry pancakes? Sure, he'd have cranberry pancakes. And everything else as normal as could be while it still could be.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Well, that was a relief!

Wayne certainly had a contingency plan in place fer if this pony thing managed to last longer than the weekend; he had spent more of his free time practicing how to get a good pancake flip with a pan in one's mouth more than he would like to admit, but he much preferred the fact that he was bipedal with hands instead of hooves again and all that preparation was fer nothing!

So he got to the common room, started making breakfast as per usual, appreciating the use of his hands when he did it because he certainly didn't want to take them for granted again, all the while thinking that ponies were a pretty silly thing to turn into in the first place. He'd go ahead and be pretty stereotypical and assume some of the girls were pretty pleased about the whole thing, but honestly? He thought they should have all just been puppers.

A weekend of being puppers would have been great.

"Mebbe you could get on that fer next time," he said, apparentleh to the island, with a firm nod that seemed to work well enough as an agreement, considering he was talking to an island, apparentleh.

[[ and open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

There was a lot that could (and would!) be said about this weekend's particular brand of tom fuckery, but there was one thing that Wayne knew fer sure, and that was that ponies, no matter how much they were usually humans or humanoid, didn't belong indoors! Not unless that indoors was a barn, the case of which the dorms were definitely not, so after some well-to-do with the door and a bit of careful awkwardness with the stairs, Wayne finally made it outside, into the open air, and instantly felt better about it.

He s'posed it was a silly thing, to be concerned about, considering he was just as much himself as usual, only in pony form, but it just made him feel a little bit better that if the proper order of what body he was inhabitin' couldn't be in order, at least a simple fact like no ponies indoors could be, and that was that.

Although now he was sort of just squinting out over the landscape wondering just what one did with their newfound pony-ness in general...Mebbe go for a little trot. Go lookin' fer a little hay, or, if he was lucky...some barleh....

[[ open deck is open! ]]

howareyanow

The last few Monday Morning Breakfasts had been a little quiet...some of them considerably so...but did that mean that Wayne was going to cool it on the tradition and back off a little or maybe take a week off or something?

Hard no!

He'd been doing this for well over a year now, and he had no intention of stopping it any time soon, even if he wound up being the only one who cared, because it was tradition, and you don't fuck with tradition!

Besides, all the leftovers seemed to still manage to get consumed and enjoyed in a timely fashion, though he didn't exactly know who was eating them or even when, and he s'posed Fosse could be cleaning it all out after a couple of days, but there were still things in that fridge that he was pretty sure had been there longer than he'd even been doing breakfast, so that seemed doubtful.

He was pretty sure one of those things might have been growing eyes.

He wasn't going to be the one to check, though.

[[ open breakfast is open, of course! ]]

howareyanow

Yes, there was still an apparent abundance of Halloween candy everywhere in the common room that morning, but if you thought Wayne was actually going to go and incorperate it into his usual breakfast, than you'd clearly been eating too much sugar cereal, bud.

Breakfast was very decidedly, very dedicatedly candy-free, thank you very much, though there weren't nothing stopping anyone from incorperating the candy in their breakfasts all their own, except, y'know, the oppressive inevitability of Wayne's fiercely disapproving squints.

Overall, though, he was just happy he wasn't blue anymore. Or even worse, blue and tiny.

[[ open breakfast is....

.....open! SHOCKING I KNOW ]]

howareyanow

Wayne wasn't sure he should've told those dancing pumpkin people who pretty much just danced their way on in, grabbed themselves some breakfast, and then danced their way right back out that some of the pancakes that morning were, in fact, made with pumpkin, but they (and the skeletons) kept occasionally dancing back on through fer more, so at this point, he figured they probably knew, but he made sure to keep the cans of pumpkin he was using out on display if they want the hint without him having to go and make things awkward.

As if a buncha random pumpkin people and skeletons prancing in through the common room to grab breakfast and then prance their way right back out wasn't awkward enough already.

He just made breakfast. It wasn't his place to ask questions. 'Specially since he knew those questions likely didn't even have any answers...

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Wayne had, very briefly, considered an attempt to incorperate all the candy that was just sitting around into his breakfast for that morning, and the fact that he'd even thought about it for a second bothered him a bit, that it was his natural impulse to just see what the island had given them and think about using it first and foremost before considering that candy didn't belong in breakfast!

There was definitely a disconsolate growl. This place was starting to make him 10-ply. Or at the very least, three.

So it was breakfast as normal, without any candy, although if anyone wanted to be spare parts enough to incorperate the candy into their breakfast themselves, they were more than welcome, though Wayne may personally, privately wish upon them that every piece they plucked out of those bowls would be black licorice, and they'd learn their lesson.

The pancakes may have taken on a certain mouse-eared shape, though. Whether or not that was done intentionally or by influence of the island, though, Wayne would never tell.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Considering how Wayne had spent most of his weekend stuck in his room with a stubborn mule that refused to move past the doorway until Wayne accepted the idea that the mule was something called a daemon that was apparently something to do with Wayne's soul or other such tom fuckery, thus putting them at quite the expected impasse, and considering how last Monday not only had everything all tiny, but also had Miles bein' all sticky and going out a window, he was going to be a little put out and peeved off if breakfast that morning was anything but normal.

Normal food, normal dishes, he had managed to squeeze in the normal shopping on account of the mule having at least a healthy respect fer tradition...so far...so good!

At least everything on his side of things seemed good'n'normal that morning.

He did not expect that to stay as such once his fellow students started coming 'round, though. He may be stubborn, but he wasn't stupid.

[[ open breakfast is open and bemoaning the fact that I never got around to Wayne and his mule this weekend ]]

howareyanow

It was hard saying goodbye to old Gus yesterday (well, and Katy-Kat, too, but that was diff'rent!), and Wayne had almost considered maybe keeping him around, but the farm was easily the best place for the bo, but it had still been nice to have him around for the weekend and get to introduce him to a few people, too.

But now it was back to business as usual, and breakfast as usual, or at least breakfast as usual as well as it could be when all he seemed to have were tiny knives and tiny pans and tiny plates...

So breakfast might be a while today unless you were lookin' fer some...lighter fare, which was why there was also a box of doughnuts on the table fer everyone to hold them over in the meantime.

[[ and open breakfast is open and tiny! ]]

howareyanow

Probably not surprising anyone fer this week, considering the weekend, Wayne came into the common room that morning fer Monday Morning Breakfast to find the fridge was particularly well-stocked with sauerkraut and bratwurst, and, not one to let things like that just go to waste, added a frittata and some hash to the usual offerings and expected pancakes.

And he weren't going to even say nothing about it, either, because, as far as weird things to happen on a Monday morning, that barely even registered as one, so it seemed a bit...silly to go and make a fuss.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

There was a whole new step that had been developed, recently, in Wayne's process for gettin' up and makin' breakfast to start the day. It started with him actually waking up, gettin' ready (a process that didn't take too long at all), checking radio, checking his hawkey fights, and then heading to the common room, and (this was the new part) doing a swift but thorough look around the place to check fer anything...funny. Because if there was anything funny, he wanted to make sure he got wind of it before getting into his cooking, even if the funny didn't even directly relate to the cooking itself.

Like today, there was definitely a gremlin hanging out over behind the TV, which was generally good to know, because if he hadn't done that sweep, then he could have come right out and surprised someone at an inopportune moment, and now he could at least give people the warning.

Other'n that, though, everything seemed normal, the food was all as it should be, the equipment was all right...Well, it seemed all the usual plates had been replaced with small plastic kiddy plates with cartoon characters and dividers in 'em, but if that and the gremlin were the worst of what he was getting today, Wayne wasn't going to complain!

...not too much, anywhey!

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

If Wayne was a little more inclined to pay attention to American traditions, he might not have been as surprised as he was to find that the stove in the kitchenette of the third floor common room had been replaced by a grill, nor would he question the fact that the common room was definitely doing its 'nudge Wayne in a certain culinary direction ' thing by providing a lot of beef and buns that morning.

As it was, he just thought it was a little excessive, because he'd just been doing grillin' fer the party that weekend.

But, never one to shy away from the challenge of what the island seemed to want to foist onto him (not these days, anywhey, not anymore...), he just readjusted accordingly, and got to work, making a breakfast that was a little heavier on burgers than pancakes, though he did manage a bit of those, too, as well as the usual variety of things, fer all the variety of palates that went beyond the favored 'just fill up a plate' approach.

[[ and open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Wayne didn't get a chance to chat with many of the newbies on picnic day, meaning he didn't have many chances to let them know about Monday Morning Breakfast, but, hopefulleh, the breakfast would take care of letting them know itself through the power that was cooking aromas working its way through this school's odd kind of ventilation system. Or word would get around somehow. Or he'd just have a lot of leftovers for the week, and that was okay, too, though not exactly optimal.

Honestly, though, by Monday morning (though a bit of a later start than usual since he wound up with a class first period; that was hardly going to stop breakfast, though!), he was mostleh just feeling glad that, when he came into the common room, all the stuff he'd gotten for it was there and just the way he'd left them, there wasn't anything weird going on with any of the equipments or cupboards or dishes, no abundance of weird ingredients, no lurking gremlins, no nothing out of the ordinary....which was a little out of the ordinary, but Wayne, who was about 95% sure this island was going to try and fuck up the first Monday Morning Breakfast of a new semester, was not going to complain!

...not about that, anywhey!

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

complexfemale

This all felt weird. Maeve was sure she was in for major adjustments and culture shock and it was going to be hard and take some getting used to, and that was before she ended up rooming with a cat girl who didn't think she was a cat girl, which made her at least consider that she herself might be the crazy one.

So yeah. Weird.

She got herself set up enough in her room, slept off some of the jet lag, and then decided to wander around a little and get a better feel for the place. When she found the deck, she took a seat and lit up a cigarette, figuring this was a fine enough spot. She had a book on her if she decided she wanted to stay out here a while. At least out here she didn't have to worry about anything else.

[Open!]

howareyanow

It was becoming a part of the routine at this point, Wayne making a little extra time in his Monday mornings to head to the common room to prepare himself for whatever tom fuckery the island was going to throw at him, although the steps were sometimes a little different based on what had happened the week before. This week, he first went to check the fridge, and was pleased to find that there was not a single shrimp to be found. And the next step was to check the cabinets, where all the dry ingredients and the pots and pans and plates and utensils were all just as they should. The stove? Working fine. Coffee maker? Coffee as it should. Wayne cautiously whipped up a little test batter for a test pancake, and, sure enough, just a regular pancake came out in the end.

So everything was normal fer breakfast that day, which you'd have thought would make Wayne happy, but, oh contrar-ray, it was having just the opposite effect, causing him to grumble in dissatisfaction as he got to work.

'Cause a quiet, normal day today more'n likeleh meant it had something in store fer next week instead.

[[ and open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Wayne, while emitting a low, dissatisified sort of rumble in his chest and throat the whole time, didn't want to jump to any fucking conclusions, or nothin', but he felt that was a good direction to focus his ire for what seemed to be this Monday morning's choice of tom-fuckery.

He wasn't going to say anything about it--well, prob'ly not, not unless he was mebbe provoked, by what would only necessitate the mere whisper of suggestion--but there were definitely shrimp omelettes that morning, and he felt they all knew who could be blamed fer that one.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

In his experience keepin' up this whole Monday morning breakfast tradition (for well over a year now! Who'd've thunk?), Wayne had sort of figured there were three kinds of tom-fuckery that were likely to occur fer those days when tom-fuckery was going to just up and happen: there was the kind that sort of spread over the whole island, which were generally speaking more rare these days, as they tended to be pretty weekend-heavy and were over come Monday morning. There were the ones that seemed pretty common-room-specific, where there was something particular wrong with the stock afforded to him for making his breakfasts, like an abundance of broccoli or all the eggs turning green, something like that. And then there was the third kind, the kind that he figgured he might as well dub 'the Nina Effect,' where he started out cooking something like normal, but when he went to put it on the plate, it came out completely different from what he'd expected it to be.

In his estimation, the third one was the worst one, because it was unpredictable and a firm display of how things Should Not Work, and yet, there they were.

This one seemed to have an added element of Number Two in there, too, since Wayne had noticed an awful lot of graham crackers and chocolates and marshmallows in the cupboard that morning, which he had tried to ignore. Which is probably exactly why the place decided that every pancake he made, no matter how he made it, wound up being s'mores pancakes.

Which were, of course, an abomination, but what could you do? That was just island tom-fuckery for you right there.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Welp. Hopefully no one out of the (somewhat dwindling) usual suspects had a nut allergy, because it appeared that the common room was beset with nuts that morning.

And by beset, Wayne almost meant overflowing, because opening up the cabinets and being greeted with no small waterfall of almonds and cashews and acorns, pistachios and chestnuts and filberts, that clattered to the floor at his feet and caused him to just sort of look at all the nuts and sort of hope that the squirrels, at least, would be hungry that morning, because that was a lot of nuts.

Nuts that would not be making it into his breakfast, because he already had the usual menu plan, and he honestly wasn't feeling very much like he wanted to trust cabinet nuts today. But he certainly wasn't going to stop anyone if they felt a bit more inclined.

[[ and open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Even though it'd only been a week since things had been a bit fruity loops around here, a part of Wayne was almost feeling like things had been too normal, and weren't that an odd thought just there? But he'd been here on this weird little island for over a year, it wasn't really that surprising that he'd get acclimated to its quirks and whims and feel a little compelled to have something a bit more interesting than the normal sometimes fer his Monday mornings.

He thought about messing with the pancake batter with colors or sprinkles again, but that didn't have quite the same appeal when he knew Nina wasn't likely to be around to complain about them.

He'd done crepes, he'd done omelettes, he'd done quiches, he'd done breakfast pizzas, even. He'd almost felt like he was running out of new ideas....

...which, in turn, only reminded him that, realleh, if it weren't broke, then why bother go fixin' it, and time would come 'round where he'd have no choice but to do something different and weird because the island was actin' up again, so he should appreciate the simple while he could, nodded resolutely, and, with that small little morning insight, got to cooking.

Only to discover that all his pancakes appeared to be coming out of the pan with faces on them.

"...well, fuck."

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Waking up that morning had Wayne feeling all sorts of skeptical and suspicious, because they'd just had two weeks in a row that weren't normal, and so the fact that things were sudden normal again didn't feel all that normal at all, especially since it was summer, and he was here for last summer, where something not normal every week was what became normal.

...but if it really were normal, he'd happily take it, and he was just going to squeeze as much normal into the morning as he could by sticking to the classics, nothing fancy, just the usual pancakes and eggs and sausage and fruit and international selections of bacon on the menu today.

But maybe, just maybe, things weren't exactly quite as normal as they seemed, though you'd have to look pretty close to realize that, as he was cooking, Wayne's head was bopping up and down a little bit. The music all over the island may have stopped, but that didn't mean the music in Wayne's head had.

Because he still was far from being over a fuckin' guitar-playing dog.

Fuck!

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Wayne didn't know everyone's feelings about turnips, really, but he was hardly one to refuse nice, fresh produce when it was available to him. Which meant that breakfast that morning was definitely a little turnip-heavy, but y'wanna know what? Weren't nothing wrong with a good turnip every once in a while.

The abundance of fruit on the island right now made for a good counterpoint to it, too, which meant more crepes because who didn't love a good crepe with some fresh fruit, although Wayne himself might be a little more likely to avoid it on account of the fact that it was summer and he really didn't trust a whole lot of randomly growing fruit on trees around here in the summer. But his little farmboy heart couldn't just let all that nice looking produce just go to waste.

[[ open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

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! ]]

howareyanow

Depending on how they timed it, some of the breakfast goers might walk in to find Wayne not dutifully minding his pancakes at the stove, but, instead, a few steps over at the counter where he figured the best light was, his phone out, taking pictures of a stack of pancakes he had apparently mixed with food coloring so that they were rainbow-colored, and another stack of pancakes that were artfully sliced into to show that there were rainbow sprinkles inside, like he was setting them up for a fucking Instagram or Pinterest or Fartbook or whatever the fuck all else there was.

Not that he was actually posting to any of those things, because fuck social media, but he'd made the pancakes that way that morning fer Katy, and it didn't do much good, did it, if he made them fer Katy and then didn't even send her pictures.

They weren't good pictures, but they were good enough, and the pancakes themselves being good would more'n make up for it.

Even if Katy was only looking at them instead of actually eating them, but he knew she'd appreciate them all the same.

[[ open breakfast is open and colorful! ]]

howareyanow

No kitchen utensils and pots and pans all up on the ceiling. No everything turning into pizza. No weird colored food or blue milk (save for the little bit kept around for those who were into that sport of thing). Just a nice, normal breakfast, the way God (and Wayne) intended.

And, fuck, it was nice to have a good, normal breakfast around here.

At least nice and normal for the time being, but, realleh, that was all anyone could hope for 'round here. So Wayne got to work, got to cooking, and got to getting the week going right.

[[ and open breakfast is open! ]]

howareyanow

Aww....fuck.

There was a problem with breakfast. Wayne didn't like when there was a problem with breakfast, but at least the problem with breakfast usually involved the food being a bit different than he expected, be it in type of food or color or abundance of one thing over the other, but he'd yet to have a problem exactly like this before. And that was the problem that everything....pots, pans, plates, mugs, utentsils, bowls, everything...had been placed extremely high up, and far from any countertop that he could climb to reach it. Even the chairs seemed just a bit too short, leaving him to just look up at the ceiling where all the things were, and truly not appreciating this level of Monday morning shenanigans.

Fuck.

Someone might need to get a ladder.

[[ random breakfast is open! there might even eventually be some food? ]]

howareyanow

If there was one good thing to say about Nina's class, it was that it certainly made Wayne a little more toleratin' and slightly more accepting of the fact that, sometimes, when you cook...at least around here...some things are going to happen in ways that you don't expect them to. Like mayo in cheesecake. Or in boozy buns.

Or, in today's case, the odd phenomenon that was everything he was making just ending up as a breakfast pizza.

Pancakes? Started out fine. Flipped just fine. But as soon as he took it from the pan and onto a plate? Pizza.

Eggs? Scrambled, sunny-side-up, over-easy, poached? No matter what, pizza.

He even cut up some fruit, went to put it in a bowl, and what did he get? Fuckin' pizza!

At that point, he just gave up and figgured, well....looks like they were having pizza fer breakfast today. Ain't no reason to get excited.

Although it was a pretty good reason to get irritated as hell. Especially considering that when he said everything was turning into pizza, he meant everything. He'd put off making coffee that morning, terrified of what the results might be, but curiousity got the better of him, and as he went to grab the pot...pizza.

Shoulda fuckin' known better.

[[ open breakfast is open! come get some 'pizza'? idk. ]]

Fandom High RPG

About the Game

---       Master Game Index
---       IC Community Tags
---       Thinking of Joining?
---       Application Information
---       Existing Character Directory

School and Grounds
---       Fandom High School
---       Staff Lounge
---       TA Lounge
---       Student Dorms

Around the Island
---       Fandom Town
---       Fandom Clinic

Communications
---       Radio News Recaps
---       Student Newspaper
---       IC Social Media Posts

Off-Island Travel
---       FH Trips

Once Upon a Time...
---       FH Wishverse AU

Out-of-Character Comms

---       Main OOC Comm
---       Plot Development
---       OOC-but-IC Fun

⚙

Disclaimer

Fandom High is a not-for-profit text-based game/group writing exercise, featuring fictional characters and settings from a variety of creators, used without permission but for entertainment purposes only.

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