acapriciousthing: (Default)
Death of the Endless ([personal profile] acapriciousthing) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2013-11-18 11:40 pm
Entry tags:

It's not stress baking what are you talking about

LOCATION: Kitchens
WARNINGS: Unlikely
SUMMARY: Death is passing her time by baking. At all hours. You can assume she made people aware of the availability of assorted baked goods.

The problem with not needing to sleep is that you get restless when your usual late night companion isn't available for cards and stories. So Death has wandered down to the kitchen. And started baking.

Anyone else who doesn't sleep might come across her there. For those or a more... mortal pursuasion, they'll find assorted cookies and brownies already finished and ready to eat. She can hardly eat all these herself, after all.

She's fine. Definitely fine.
sweetmotherofgod: (so Heather gets the front page)

[personal profile] sweetmotherofgod 2013-11-19 07:29 am (UTC)(link)
It's not so much that Heather doesn't sleep, more that she does it at odd hours. Or doesn't do it for three days and then lapses into what might more accurately be described as a tiny coma. The result is that she's awake during the baking process, wandering around so that her body has something to do to match the patterns of her restless mind. It's the smell that gets her, lures her in just like in the old cartoons except she only feels like she's floating right up until she's in the kitchen itself.

"Oh my god," she says, and it's half a sigh. "Are you magic?"
doc_pompous: (I got a hamster.)

[personal profile] doc_pompous 2013-11-20 06:50 am (UTC)(link)
Since the strange memory-sharing stopped (at least, the strange memory-sharing among current passengers), Simon has devoted significant amounts of time to backreading the network and searching around for those elusive people he'd made momentary connections with. Though he can probably think of a few things he wants to explain, depending, it's more out of courtesy than anything else.

Luckily, one of the passengers he's looking for makes her stress baking known.

After some deliberation, Simon makes his way down to one of the kitchens, more-or-less following his nose and peeking inside once he finds her.

"Hi, sorry, I'm not...interrupting, am I?"
doc_pompous: (pic#5020169)

[personal profile] doc_pompous 2013-11-21 08:12 am (UTC)(link)
It's more compulsory than anything, to ask if he's interrupting--Simon knows he's not, not really, and a quick look to see that there's no one else in the kitchen confirms that.

"I've actually been looking for you, I don't--"

There is, of course, nothing about this that isn't awkward, but he tries to swallow it down.

"I think it's you, anyway."
doc_pompous: (pic#5020203)

[personal profile] doc_pompous 2013-11-22 06:16 am (UTC)(link)
With that, he moves out of the doorway ever-so-slightly, though he still doesn't seem quite comfortable standing in the kitchen. There really is no way to go about it, though, so he might as well dive right in.

"I think, maybe, that I had some of yours. There was a girl, a--she had multicolored hair."

That seems like as good a descriptor as any.
doc_pompous: (Top three percent)

[personal profile] doc_pompous 2013-11-23 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
Eventually, he takes a seat at the table, sort of idly fidgeting with his hands in an effort to feel slightly less awkward, even if there really is no good way to go about addressing "we were kind of in each others' heads". Aaaakward was probably an understatement.

"If you remember anything specific I might be able to...explain."

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onetouch: (digby | someone's in the kitchen)

[personal profile] onetouch 2013-11-21 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
Ned is a huge proponent of stress-baking, being that it's usually him taking part. But he won't hesitate to grab for a brownie, leaning on the counter and smiling in her direction.

"These aren't for a party, are they?"
onetouch: (she sounds hideous)

[personal profile] onetouch 2013-11-21 05:31 am (UTC)(link)
He nodded, understanding all too well as he took a bite. Nothing truly beat a warm chewy brownie, freshly baked.

"No one doesn't like chocolate, everyone at least tolerates it." Which was something he'd said to someone else, but he looks up at her, trying for a smile. "Thank you. I couldn't... sleep either."
onetouch: (a sensitive call)

[personal profile] onetouch 2013-11-24 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'm sure they would like it if they were allowed. Or, if it wouldn't kill them."

Ned gave a little grimace and replayed her words and how he'd twisted them. She didn't sleep, implying that she was perhaps an alien, or something else. It didn't bother him except that he'd given away that there was something on his own mind.

"...It's nothing, really. I came down to bake, but it seems someone has beaten me to it."
onetouch: (chuck | what was that)

[personal profile] onetouch 2013-11-25 12:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Death... He tipped his head, regarding her quizzically, but he didn't turn away or feel afraid. If anything, he felt drawn in; compelled to speak to her.

"I'm Ned. The pie maker."

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tinytactician: (Default)

[personal profile] tinytactician 2013-11-25 05:25 am (UTC)(link)
Following your nose is always a good plan, which is why Armin will wander into the kitchen eventually, though he stops short at the sight of someone already there.

"O-Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude..."
inafadingcrown: (Counsel)

pretend this isn't horribly late

[personal profile] inafadingcrown 2013-11-25 12:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Galadriel does sleep, of course. Sometimes. She just happens to need less than your average mortal would- which, naturally, leaves her plenty of time for wandering the hallways listlessly.

This evening, however, the warm smell of baking in progress draws her to the kitchen. It's unusual to find many others up this late and more unusual still to find anyone preparing food at this hour. Let alone so much food.

She pauses in the doorway to speak, not yet decided on whether she will stay.

"You could not sleep, I take it?"
inafadingcrown: (the choice is yet before her)

[personal profile] inafadingcrown 2013-11-27 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, that's interesting enough to make up her mind for her. Galadriel walks into the kitchen and seats herself at a nearby table with a little hum of agreement.

"Or without one's usual company." She's speaking of herself, of course. That it happens to also apply to Death is just a coincidence.
inafadingcrown: (with Celeborn)

[personal profile] inafadingcrown 2013-11-29 12:49 pm (UTC)(link)
On second thought, rather than just sitting, she's going to make some tea. Galadriel stands and makes her way to a counter, talking over her shoulder.

"For you also, then? I intended to speak only of myself, but it seems I have struck too near the mark for both of us."
inafadingcrown: (The fire of their hearts was young)

[personal profile] inafadingcrown 2013-12-04 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
"He is here?" For what it's worth, Galadriel is being utterly casual about it. There's nothing strange or all that noteworthy in the problem for her. "I would imagine that that is something of a mixed blessing in and of itself."

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