[Multiple post]

[cookiesandhugs]

GLADYS, having gotten all her rage out in that little journal post, is in the back of the cafeteria, flour in her already gray hair and all the way up her arms to her rolled-up sleeves. She's had to throw out three batches of cookies for various problems, which is what happens when you bake while angry. The last batch turned out okay, though, which

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[taibhsearachd]

Kara's head hurts. Kara's everything hurts. There's too much psychic distress in the basement, and while she could leave, it wouldn't do her much good - she'll be able to feel it no matter where she goes. There's the trouble with being a strong psychic.

She's wedged herself into a cabinet, knees curled up to her chest, forehead resting against her knees, and she's been here since before Gladys came in, quiet enough to not be noticed. Focusing on Gladys' thoughts helps, a little, to drown out the rest of it. Or... not really, just distract her from it.

"Is it any better this time?" she asks eventually - which must sound rather disturbing, a young woman's voice suddenly coming from a cabinet, but Kara's used to being disturbing and a little creepy sometimes.

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys, who was taking another batch out of the oven, freezes when she hears the girl's voice- it's fairly startling, and as she looks around, she realizes she has no idea where the voice is coming from. Not that she's going to panic. Instead, she just puts the cookie sheet down on the counter.

Yes, Gladys, no one cares if you scorch the counters. Really. Go ahead.

"I think so," she says in reply to the question. "Do you want to try one?"

[taibhsearachd]

Kara pauses a moment, thinking, and then nudges open the cabinet door with her foot. She doesn't come out just yet, simply tilts her head a little to peer out. She's actually pretty comfortable here - it's small and dark and makes her head seem a little less crowded somehow. "Maybe. What kind of cookies?"

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys sees the cabinet door opened, and is relieved to see the dark shadow of a body in there. At least now she knows she's not going absolutely bonkers.

"Um... sugar, and shortbread's in the oven. I'm about to start on chocolate chip. They look okay, from where I'm standing." She used a spatula to pick one of the sugar cookies up and look at the bottom. "Not too crispy," she says, then places one on a plate. "Would you want to eat it in there, or would you rather come out and have some. There's milk, too."

[taibhsearachd]

Kara considers for a minute, and then slides out of the cabinet, one long bare leg at a time, and finally ducks out. She looks a little haunted, distant, like not all of her is here right now, like part of her's somewhere else, or several hundred other places. Her hair's wild and messy, her eyes dark-ringed and a little red like she's been crying - all things considered, she looks half-dead. Which, actually, she is, but not in the way you'd think.

"They don't make it better. Cookies." Kara wanders over to the counter and hops up onto it. "Shouldn't touch anything. Not even a little. It's fragile. Combustible. Very bad idea." It's hard to tell if she's actually talking to Gladys, or just reminding herself of something she knew already.

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys looks concernedly at the girl, because it's obvious something- a lot of things, most likely- are wrong. "They help, though," she says, even though she's not sure if she's replying or just cutting into some very private conversation. "The cookies. I think they help."

She puts a cookie on a plate and pushes it towards her. "Milk?" she asks, heading over to the fridge to retrieve more eggs.

[taibhsearachd]

Kara eyes the cookie for a moment like she's trying to decide whether she ought to trust it. Not Gladys. The cookie itself. Finally, she picks it up and takes a bite, nodding in answer to Gladys' question about milk.

"A lot of people are going to feel very silly in a week. Not everyone. Some people don't have senses of humor at all."

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys fetches the milk and a glass and pours the girl some, then takes it with her to the counter to use in the batter.

"Really?" she asks. "What do you mean by that?"

She sort of snorts at the last part. "I would say quite a few people around here don't really have a sense of humor." Certain angels, for example...

[taibhsearachd]

Kara shakes her head slowly. "It's not important. I could be wrong." She picks up the glass and frowns into it for a moment before dunking her cookie in and then taking a bite. "I'm usually not, though. Goodbyes don't exactly work when they aren't."

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys understands, and decide not to do too much more inquiring. It's a rough time for everyone, and she really would like not to aggravate anything that might cause more pain. She glances back at the girl.

"Any good?" she asks. "The cookies, I mean." Yes, Gladys. The cookies.

[taibhsearachd]

Kara smiles faintly and nods. "Yes. Much better now that you've calmed down a little. Anger and baking don't mix well." She pauses. "Well. For some people they do. I guess."

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys smiles. "Yes, they don't usually start tasting good until I'm not frustrated any more. Which... is frustrating in itself, I suppose." She chuckles a little. "But I guess it's also a lesson in being patient." She shakes her head, still stirring the new batch. "Who would have thought? At my age, still needing to learn those kinds of things!"

[taibhsearachd]

Kara smiles vaguely. Gladys is only a hundred years older than her, give or take a decade or two, though you'd never know it to look at the two of them. "Not so old. Some people never learn better." And some people just learn to control and direct their anger.

Kara pauses, and then leans over to steal a little cookie dough, looking perfectly innocent as she does. Kara is used to getting her way. "You came here. To Chicago. Even though it hurts."

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys shrugs. She realizes, of course, that's she's not the oldest, by far, of any of the angels, but there's something about the fact that she looks older than most of them that makes her think she should be wiser in some way. Or something.

She just grins as she watches her cookie dough get stolen. Despite having worked in several kindergarden classes, she still appears to not get the concept of germs, and thus doesn't mind. For some people, it's the cookies, for some it's the dough, and for some it's simply the smell that makes baking relaxing and healing. So whatever floats your boat is okay with her.

The smile fades a bit at Kara's statement. "Yes," she says slowly. "Really, what else was I supposed to do? It's hard to focus on five year olds when you have the massive pit of pain that is Chicago calling for you."

[taibhsearachd]

Kara, finger still in her mouth from stealing the cookie dough, pulls her legs up to her chest and rests her chin on her knee, bare feet on the counter. "You could run. Far far away. It can't get you everywhere. Some people do."

Run. But everyone seems to be drawn here, and once they're here they seem to be stuck. Kara hasn't yet decided if that's a good thing or bad, if they'd all hurt less if they just scattered to the winds.

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys sort of sighs sadly. "I suppose I could," she admits. "But all the people here... you can tell, can't you, how much they all hurt? How much they're hurting right now?" She shakes her head. "I can't leave them now. I'd feel so guilty, even if I could get away from it all. It wouldn't make things better. And that's all I'm trying to do. Make things a little bit better."

There we go. The thing Gladys didn't want to admit to herself- that as much as she knows it's going to drive her insane, she can't tear herself away from Chicago. She's invested herself far too deeply into it, and she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to leave.