15342/These Are Not The Cookies You're Looking For

These Are Not The Cookies You're Looking For
Date of Scene:	08 July 2023
Location:	Level 4 - Kitchen and Dining - The Roost
Synopsis:	From prior player
Cast of Characters:	Tim Drake, Phoebe Beacon

---

Tim Drake has posed:
    It's summer, and outside there is a heatwave threatening on the horizon, getting ready to make Gotham a miserable place to be (you know, moreso than usual) here in a couple of days. And yet Tim is inside, where it should be cool and comfortable, running the double ovens so that the kitchen and dining area of the Roost is just a couple degrees above where it usually is. You know, just enough to be noticeable.

    He's taken over the majority of the counter space, with a series of bowls in varying sizes arranged in some logical order that makes sense only to him. His laptop is sat there as well, slightly to the side but close enough for constant referencing, and... he's wearing an apron over his t-shirt and jeans. This is not a good sign.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    No, no, this is a great sign. Phoebe loves it when people try new things, and seeing Tim get down and dirty in the kitchen is something that actually touches her. She leans in the doorway, pink hair recently washed and super fluffy in that way that only wooly kinks can get, wearing a T-shirt with a skeleton contemplating its own skull in its hands in faded green with cream-colored paint and a pair of grumpy bear pajama pants. Which meant she probably over-mornninged at the Roost and not at the Estate. She takes stock of the materials he's working with, and figuring he knows she's there, just patiently watches and gives Tim his space in the kitchen.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Situational awareness being a thing, Tim figures out he's being watched pretty quickly. He looks up and smiles at Phoebe, then gestures her into the kitchen with a "Come on in, I'm about to get started."

    And true to his word, he dumps a bunch of flour into the big mixing bowl he's standing in front of, which seems to be Step 1. Mix your dry ingredients together. A couple of pre-measured amounts of Other Things get added to the flour and then it's set aside in favor of another, smaller bowl. "Any plans today?" he asks as he drops softened butter into the bowl.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Only if you insist. Didn't wanna be in your space." Phoebe replies as she pulls back her hair with a cloth that was over her shoulders to make sure it's all contained, and brings herself up to sit on an island to provide help or guidance as needed. She was *pretty* sure Tim could handle a batch of cookies on his own.

    "Was considering heading into New York. Came across a guy with a tooth necklace that let him channel some creatures. He's an EMT, ran into him with a bomb run scare last night that Cassie, Diana, and Indestructibelle showed up to as well."

    She tilts her head back, and there is an extremely satisfying *CRACK* as it finally lets go.

    "Special occasion for the cookies?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Well, consider me insistent," Tim says as he slowly pours sugar in with the room-temperature butter. Then it's time for mixing, which he is apparently deciding to do by hand despite there definitely being a variety of powered mixing options in this kitchen. Maybe he just doesn't know what kinds of small appliances he technically owns (but has never been the one to use). It's certainly not his area of expertise, after all!

    He nods along with what Phoebe is saying, eyebrows going up with interest even as he focuses on the methodical scrape-scrape-scrape of spoon to bowl. "Nnnnoooooope," is his forthcoming answer to the following question, then he immediately segues back to the prior topic with, "Did you catch a name for this EMT?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Nope. Recorded his face on my old Balm domino though. I might need to update some software or something. It was blinking and buzzing a bit last night." she states conversationally, and then she wrinkles her nose. "Or it's getting interferance with being so close to all magic all the time... or because I tanked a two hundred pound steel door with the Trigger Twins behind it with my face the other night."

    There's an audible shrug sound "It's a mystery."

    And she leeaaaans over, trying to catch what recipe he's using. "Do you want my vanilla extract? It's better than the store stuff."

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim makes a mental note to check Balm's camera feeds from last night to see if it ends up being a familiar face or not. For now, though, it's a mystery, and one Tim is willing to allow to continue being mysterious for the time being, as he has more pressing concerns. "I can take a look at your domino later in case it's a hardware problem."

    Mixing is still happening, so nothing new to report there.

    The recipe he's using is the old tried-and-tested one that shows up on the back of the chocolate chips bag. He does, however, nod enthuasiastically at Phoebe's offer, with a "Sure!" added on. "Do you make it yourself?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I'd appreciate it. Jason keeps offering but somehow, weirdly, I'm a return-to-manufacturer type girl. I mean, it is the one you made me when I was invited in." Phoebe offers, and she hops off her space on the island and makes her way to one of the cabinets.

    She withdraws a dark bottle that has some magical looking insignias on it, marked 'DO NOT DRINK' with a skull and crossbones and underneath it: "this is not a challenge Gabby *do not drink this*" enscribed in blue ink to make it stand out.

    "I used to make my own extracts all the time. I've still got a little Lavender extract from my old garden. I have a mint extract that's great in fudge, and I have a morning glory extract that might knock Bane on his ass with hallucinations." Phoebe explain, and sets the dark bottle in front of Tim. It is corked.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Of course," Tim says, and then he shakes his head. "I get it. I still have my first Robin suit even though it's practically in pieces at this point." The scrape of the wooden spoon against the sides of the bowl stops for a second. "Well, the first Robin suit that was made for me, at least," he corrects.

    He resumes mixing as he watches Phoebe walk to the cabinets, and when she pulls out the bottle he actually laughs. "Thanks," is all he says though, despite his clear amusement at the warnings Phoebe had to label the bottle with.

    Then he sets the spoon down so he can uncork the bottle and sniff it. "Is it possible to be nostalgic for a thing you never experienced? My mom was never much of a baker but this still smells like home."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    It smells like a little slice of Heaven, not quite the idealized West Virginia in Country Roads, but it's a heady, heavy vanilla. There are sliced vanilla beans still in the bottle in fact.

    "Yeah. Commercialism relies on that around Christmas which is why we get all misty-eyed at decor that our families don't use. Or Elf on a Shelf." she leans against the counter, but she tilts her head back. "Fernweh, a word that's like... Farsickness. The opposite of homesickness. Longing for a place you haven't been. But I think this might be closer to Hiraeth -- longing for a place that ..." she trails off a moment.

    "A place that never existed."

Tim Drake has posed:
    The bottle is set aside for later usage, as Tim is still focused on hand-mixing the sugar and butter together until it takes on a smooth consistency. Oh if he only knew that there were machines that could do this.

    Or maybe he's just using this as his cardio for the day. Who knows!

    "A place that never existed," Tim repeats, a frown both in his voice and on his face. Slowly, the spoon comes to a stop, and he leans his elbows on the counter. "Huh. That's sad to think about."