Echo Bay, California, Wednesday Morning
Aug. 24th, 2022 11:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
napkingGray shuffled downstairs, intent on conning Raiden into making him waffles--he could feel him still in the kitchen, along with a weird number of their brothers for this late in the morning--and stopped dead in the entrance to said kitchen.
Castor snatched a set of gold-toned measuring spoons out of Raiden's hand and said, "I should--we should keep these." He slipped them into his pocket, and Bellamy rolled his eyes and took them back out.
"They're not made out of real gold, Cas."
"I know that! We'll just need measuring spoons!"
"Uh, guys..." Gray started, but he was ignored.
"I just worry about what you guys are gonna do," Raiden said as he put one of the other sets of measuring spoons into the cardboard box he was packing.
"We'll be fine, Ray," Alastair assured him. "I can cook." It was true, Alastair could cook perfectly competently. His Pride wouldn't let him be bad at anything, really. He just wasn't Raiden. "Most of us can make at least a few things, anyway." Alastair lifted his teacup and muttered into the rim of it, "Except Bell."
"Hey!" Bellamy protested, but it was true: he was a disaster in the kitchen. The only one worse than him was Gray, and Gray at least had Sloth as an excuse.
"Guys!" Gray said more forcefully, and everyone turned to look at him. "What's going on?"
"Smalls!" Raiden exclaimed. "You want breakfast?"
"I want to know why you're packing up our kitchen," he said, and then admitted, "and also breakfast."
Alastair sipped his tea, then said, "Raiden has a surprise for you." Then he told him to, "Be nice."
"I'm always nice," Gray protested, saying out loud, wary, "What kind of a surprise?"
"Oh, uh." Raiden looked suddenly nervous. "You know your island? Well, I'm gonna try my hand at running the pizza place there."
Gray stared at him for several seconds, unable to figure out what to say, because most of his thoughts were in the vein of, I don't need a babysitter, and Al had told him to be nice. Castor broke the standoff by pointing out, "You're the one who told him about the pizza beer."
Bellamy nodded agreement. "This is your fault."
"It's gonna be so cool, Smalls, we can hang out and I can give your friends free pizza," Raiden said. "I've never run a restaurant before!"
Because he would eat half the inventory, Gray thought, and he turned wordlessly to Alastair, who read the thought on his face and told him, "Castor is taking measures."
"We're never going to financially recover from this!"
"Have a little more faith in Greed, Sloth."
Ugh. Well, it looked like everything had already been decided, and he didn't want to crush Ray's enthusiasm. He summoned a smile. "That sounds great! You can make me waffles."
"You bet, Smalls," Raiden agreed. "Do you want waffles now? Oh, I--" He looked around, frowning. "I think I packed the waffle iron already..."
"Then how are we supposed to make waffles?" Bellamy asked.
Daman slid past Gray into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee pot. "You're not allowed to make waffles," he told Bellamy.
"We all still remember the incident in '87," Castor agreed, tapping away on his phone, presumably looking for a replacement waffle iron with the most bells and whistles. "They're called Eggos."
"Guys!" Raiden said as he dug through the box he'd been packing. "Help me find the waffle iron!"
Gray looked at the boxes scattered around the kitchen. None of them, of course, were labeled. This could take a while.
...maybe he should just have cereal.
((Establishy! NFB/NFI due to distance.))
Castor snatched a set of gold-toned measuring spoons out of Raiden's hand and said, "I should--we should keep these." He slipped them into his pocket, and Bellamy rolled his eyes and took them back out.
"They're not made out of real gold, Cas."
"I know that! We'll just need measuring spoons!"
"Uh, guys..." Gray started, but he was ignored.
"I just worry about what you guys are gonna do," Raiden said as he put one of the other sets of measuring spoons into the cardboard box he was packing.
"We'll be fine, Ray," Alastair assured him. "I can cook." It was true, Alastair could cook perfectly competently. His Pride wouldn't let him be bad at anything, really. He just wasn't Raiden. "Most of us can make at least a few things, anyway." Alastair lifted his teacup and muttered into the rim of it, "Except Bell."
"Hey!" Bellamy protested, but it was true: he was a disaster in the kitchen. The only one worse than him was Gray, and Gray at least had Sloth as an excuse.
"Guys!" Gray said more forcefully, and everyone turned to look at him. "What's going on?"
"Smalls!" Raiden exclaimed. "You want breakfast?"
"I want to know why you're packing up our kitchen," he said, and then admitted, "and also breakfast."
Alastair sipped his tea, then said, "Raiden has a surprise for you." Then he told him to, "Be nice."
"I'm always nice," Gray protested, saying out loud, wary, "What kind of a surprise?"
"Oh, uh." Raiden looked suddenly nervous. "You know your island? Well, I'm gonna try my hand at running the pizza place there."
Gray stared at him for several seconds, unable to figure out what to say, because most of his thoughts were in the vein of, I don't need a babysitter, and Al had told him to be nice. Castor broke the standoff by pointing out, "You're the one who told him about the pizza beer."
Bellamy nodded agreement. "This is your fault."
"It's gonna be so cool, Smalls, we can hang out and I can give your friends free pizza," Raiden said. "I've never run a restaurant before!"
Because he would eat half the inventory, Gray thought, and he turned wordlessly to Alastair, who read the thought on his face and told him, "Castor is taking measures."
"We're never going to financially recover from this!"
"Have a little more faith in Greed, Sloth."
Ugh. Well, it looked like everything had already been decided, and he didn't want to crush Ray's enthusiasm. He summoned a smile. "That sounds great! You can make me waffles."
"You bet, Smalls," Raiden agreed. "Do you want waffles now? Oh, I--" He looked around, frowning. "I think I packed the waffle iron already..."
"Then how are we supposed to make waffles?" Bellamy asked.
Daman slid past Gray into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee pot. "You're not allowed to make waffles," he told Bellamy.
"We all still remember the incident in '87," Castor agreed, tapping away on his phone, presumably looking for a replacement waffle iron with the most bells and whistles. "They're called Eggos."
"Guys!" Raiden said as he dug through the box he'd been packing. "Help me find the waffle iron!"
Gray looked at the boxes scattered around the kitchen. None of them, of course, were labeled. This could take a while.
...maybe he should just have cereal.
((Establishy! NFB/NFI due to distance.))
