fandomhigh | Cupcake War Crimes, Take 2, Thursday [8/4]

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cupcake war crimes

Cupcake War Crimes, Take 2, Thursday [8/4]

The Home Ec room was, thankfully, free of any and all creepy alien rocks. The teachers were still aliens but whether or not they were creepy was probably debatable.

Anders wasn't creepy! He'd argue as much, at least. He did, however, look a lot more serious than normal today. (Not to say cupcakes weren't serious business, but . . .)

"I hope to gods you guys are staying safe out there," he began, looking around the classroom to take stock of who was there and who wasn't, and wondering how in the hells he'd turned into a responsible guy. (Also: note how he wasn't admonishing them to stay inside and out of the thick of things.) "Seems like a good day to have a pretty stress-free sort of bake-what-you-want session. Long as it fits in a cupcake tray, I'm not gonna judge today."

Stark (who would readily admit to the occasional bout of creepiness) would probably still judge pretty harshly if you did something foolish like putting fish in your cupcakes, but he'd do it silently. No reason to add to the stress, but fish were really kind of unforgivable. Unless you were somehow not in your right mind. "So, go ahead and make something. Anything."

"Unless you have somewhere else you need to be," Anders added with a knowing look. "We've been there, we get it. Just take it easy, okay, guys?"

"Try not to get hurt," Stark said softly. He was planning on heading over to the clinic at some point to see if he could be of any help, but he'd rather not have to see any of you there. He'd rather not see anyone there, but he knew better than to hope for that.

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They probably won't stop you if you decide to bake something completely inedible to use as a projectile. Maybe they won't approve on principle, but . . .

Sam had avoided contact with the rock and anyone infected so far so he wasn't tired or sickly or anything. He was worried which meant he was distractedly trying to bake...well, he hoped it'd be a basic cupcake but it wasn't coming out very good.

He had other things on his mind.

By all rights, Toby should have gone to the clinic like he'd promised Stan. After all, he'd woken up still sporting grey scaly patches. But he'd also felt... weirdly energized. He had places to be, damnit! So he'd snuck out of the room extra early so he could, well. Make it to cupcakes class.

Where he'd go about the task of making cupcakes with a faraway, unfocused look in his eyes, stopping every once and a while and looking as if he were listening to something no one else could hear.

"Toby," Sam said, trying to catch the other boy's attention. He kept some distance between them but his concern was evident. "Toby, look at me, man."

"Sam," Toby replied distractedly. "What's up, man?" Was he worried about something? He seemed worried.

Sam was a little worried, yep. He looked slightly relieved that Toby seemed to recognize him, at least, but still.

"You look like crap." He was just gonna be honest there. "You eat some bad fish?"

Or maybe touch a rock?

"Fish? No. I'd get in trouble if I put fish in the cupcakes." That... hadn't been his question, Toby.

Yeah, not his question at all. Sam's momentary relief evaporated quickly and he narrowed his eyes at Toby. Something was going on with him and Sam didn't like it.

He decided to test something and, instead of saying anything out loud, started thinking as loudly as he could about mundane things like cookies, shampoo and other everyday items. No, he didn't know how you thought loudly but yelling things in his head instead of just thinking them seemed the best way to go about it.

He was trying to get a reaction besides the obvious distracted facade Toby was putting out.

"You making a shopping list?" Toby wondered. "Don't get any of that girly-smelling shampoo. And you don't need to shout, you know," he added, annoyance creeping in to his tone.

Sam shook his head and continued keeping his distance especially with Toby's ton changing slightly. There were still normal colors pinging in his head so Sam couldn't tell what the gray patches were just by using that alone.

"You need to go see a doctor," Sam told him pointedly. "There's something not right with you right now. You look like you ate some of the mushrooms growing under a fungus ridden rock. I'll even go with you."

The grey patches... itched, actually, Toby mused, as he scratched at his arm under his sleeve.

"She'll just take my blood," he pointed out. "I like my blood where it is."

"Yeah, everyone does but you might need to have blood taken if you're getting sick," Sam said, taking a step closer. "You ever played the Oregon Trail? Them taking your blood's gonna stop you from succumbing to cholera or dysentery or brain fever. I think we should go down there."

"I don't have dysentry," Toby gave him a withering look. "I just need everyone to stop being so loud all the time." But maybe- maybe Sam had a point. Stan had tried to get him to the clinic yesterday too.

...Or was it a trick? Were they trying to trick him so the girl in the clinic could steal his blood?

"Do you want me to drag your stubborn ass to the clinic?" Sam asked, meeting that look with a glare. "I've got no trouble doing that. I've done it to friends of mine before. Yeah, you're a little heavier in the gut then they are but I can manage."

He wasn't necessarily trying to provoke Toby but he couldn't help his mouth sometimes. It'd gotten him in trouble with Douglas plenty.

Toby looked down at his stomach, and then back up at Sam, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "You saying I'm fat?"

"Yeah, a little," he said, shrugging and taking another step closer. "I bet they could help you out with that at the doctor, man. Give you some diet tips, try to help you get rid of the grey...scales you're growing and maybe even give you a lollipop for behaving. Am I gonna have to drag you down there?"

"I'm not fat," he scowled. "And there's monsters outside," he added. So... pretty much a yes.

Re: Bake [CWC, 8/4]

necroslacker - 2011-08-04 17:37 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Bake [CWC, 8/4]

godgavemecable.livejournal.com - 2011-08-04 17:47 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Bake [CWC, 8/4]

necroslacker - 2011-08-04 17:52 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Bake [CWC, 8/4]

stykera - 2011-08-04 18:15 (UTC) - Expand

Freddie looked nervous and more than a little freaked out. The stuff that had been happening was way beyond what he could deal with, healthily.

Still, he did his best to bake. It just was going to end up completely inedible due to nervous mistakes.

"You don't have to stay," Stark said. "If you want to leave, it's all right. Or, maybe I could help?" With the cupcakes or with the general 'this island is insane' feelings. Or both.

"Fantasma de la ópera!" Freddie said, out of mild frustration. "I don't want to leave class early. I also don't... I feel like leaving when there's danger might make people think I'm a quitter."

The Spanish outburst earned Freddie a quizzical look. It sounded familiar, and Stark had definitely been called worse. If he was even being called anything now. "Sometimes staying out of the way is best," Stark offered. "Staying safe isn't quitting."

"I hope you're right," Freddie said. "It's all freaking me out and I really don't bring anything to the heroic table."

"You don't have to be heroic," Stark replied. "I'm not. Never was." Sure, that one time he'd sort of helped end a galactic war, but he'd been forced into that at the beginning. Hardly heroic. "There are enough heroes, here, I think, to cover for everyone else."

"I hope so," Freddie said. "Because I'm pretty sure I just used baking soda instead of sugar. I have just made poison. I shouldn't be allowed to help people."

"You didn't feed it to anyone," Stark pointed out. "No one was hurt. And I'm sure I've eaten worse." He had. Really. "Cupcakes are not the only way to help. I promise."

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