fandomhigh | 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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"I don't like this," Stark said, finally pushing his mostly ignored cupcake away. "Not the cupcake. This." He waved a hand, trying to indicate that he meant everything that was happening.

"Just like old times, huh?" Anders hadn't even gone for a cupcake; he'd just been standing, occasionally pacing, occasionally crossing his arms when he needed something to do with his hands. And the question, even if it was worded like a joke, came out more sardonic than light-hearted. "Not exactly the good old days of zombie invasions or chasing friends into the sewers after they turn evil, but . . ."

It reminded him more of that plague, to be honest, and that part was more disturbing than he wanted to voice aloud.

"These things do seem to keep happening. But I preferred the times without monsters," Stark said quietly. He'd been gone already for the plague, at least. "But this is different. This just feels wrong. Zombies felt wrong too, but," he shrugged and tapped his mask lightly. Death was a Thing, with him. "Dead things shouldn't be walking, usually."

Anders let out a soft, noncommittal grunt; living with the people he did, 'monsters' were an entirely relative concept by now. ~~Also he might have been gone for the plague too, oops? Look, it's been ofrever.~~

"The monsters are almost easier to me," he admitted. "It's simpler, y'know? This is . . ."

He blew out a breath and finally settled on the vague and not at all helpful "It worries me. And I worry about the kids. 's different when we're not students any more somehow."

"Monsters are easier than this," Stark agreed. And monsters, for him, were the sort that were attacking. ~~You were totally here for plague!~~ "There is no this," Stark said. "That's part of it. We don't know what it is. Or why."

"It's easier to worry, now," he said. "But I always did. Always worried." Stark, after all, wasn't exactly the sort to go charging into battle. He was the sort to pick up the pieces, or the bodies, afterwards.

~~LOOK I CAN'T REMEMBER ANY MORE.~~

"Me too," Anders told him, nudging at Stark's shoulder lightly with his own. "Most of these guys have a head start on me when it comes to jumping into things. I did a lot of worrying for a long time there, myself."

Which was apparently like riding a bicycle.

"We can worry together," Stark offered. "I'm going to the clinic, later. To see if I can help there. Not sure what I can do. But there should be something."

"Good man," Anders said gruffly, nudging him again. "Want me to walk you there?"

"You don't need to," Stark said. "But I would not mind the company." ~~we will just pretend you were there when he tagged in. Yup.~~ He also wouldn't mind someone there in case one of the deer decided Starks were for nomming.

"It'll be fun," Anders said, mostly sarcastically. "We can toss a few of the leftover weird cupcakes at 'em and see if they're really as bad as we keep sayin' they are."

That part was actually mostly in earnest.

Besides, Starks were not for nomming. ~~Unlike certain Stark players.~~

"What if they like them and want more?" Stark asked. This was a real concern. Who knew what mutated teal deer liked to eat (besides people, apparently). "We don't want to encourage them. Or get eaten. But some of them are hard and gross now. They might work as projectile weapons. If we need them."

"If they like them?" Anders looked at him, completely straight-faced. "That way we know they're evil, don't we?"

He cleared his throat. "And then we run like hell."

"Good point." Stark nodded. "Yes. Running. Running is good. And it's been so long since I had to run from something or someone. Probably overdue."

"Stark, man," Anders laughed. "You sound like you miss it. You going crazy on me?"

Um, Anders . . .

Valid question, Anders.

Stark thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I don't think. Not today, at least. Probably not, anyway. At least, I don't think so."

"Ain't a bad thing even if you are," Anders assured him. "Not by my standards, anyway."

"I like not being crazy. It's quieter." In part because his babbling lessened when his sanity grew. "But sometimes it's easier, not trying."

But Anders liked the babbling!

Anyway.

"How 'bout let's just stay focused on getting to the clinic after this for how, huh?" he suggested, fishing a dubious, very stale, and likely rock hard cupcake from three weeks ago out of a cupboard. It sure felt solid enough to knock something out with a good, well-aimed throw. He just might test that out on the way.

"I can do that." He probably could. Probably. Although he couldn't make any promises if something tried to eat him. Sanity might vanish rapidly at that point.

"Were you saving those on purpose?" Stark asked, frowning at the cupcake. "In case you needed weaponry?"

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

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