Breakfast time~
Participants: Antonio and whoever wants a churro
Can people just hop in? That's kind of the point XD
Where: Break room
When: Morning, after work starts but still technically breakfast time
What: Antonio brings Churros for breakfast. Deliciousness ensues.
Summary: After getting too little sleep thanks to his churro-cooking binge the night before, ( Read more... )
Can people just hop in? That's kind of the point XD
Where: Break room
When: Morning, after work starts but still technically breakfast time
What: Antonio brings Churros for breakfast. Deliciousness ensues.
Summary: After getting too little sleep thanks to his churro-cooking binge the night before, ( Read more... )
It scrambled pathetically against the unforgiving slats of the blinds, ridiculously long legs bending unnaturally against the white fabric, its thin wings clicking as they struggled to keep the monstrosity upright. It almost writhed as it dragged itself to the edge of the window ledge, fighting to reach the pane's glass, as large as the crystal ball paperweight he'd bought last year as a joke for Bjorn and somehow ended up keeping himself.
Freaking huge.
He watched it with slight morbid fascination from the comfortable slouch of his office chair, bouncing himself idly with the foot he'd balanced on the edge of his cabinet as he drew in the horrified shudders of passing secretaries. He couldn't help it: he swore, he'd never seen one so large. It was creepy, in an awesome kind of way, with the way its antenna flicked out before it like two creeping tongues - but still, it was a heck of an impressive bug, a full twice the size of the usual 'fly. He basked in the reactions of passerbys, half considering capturing the thing and taking it home with him- it never hurt to poke fun at all of the daft squeamish people out there, and besides, the bug was a fighter - it had survived an hour already, and looked to be able to keep it up the entire day. Much more effective form of entertainment then the advertisement script he'd been set to edit for the fifth time, and the Duckies'd get used to it in time. Wasn't as if it'd need much taking care of.
He cocked his head slightly as the bug flailed again haphazardly, almost clawing at the blinds, the desperation that expressed itself in the frantic twitch of its movements settling uneasily in his stomach and he found himself reconsidering. ...Mmm, but this bug was, he supposed, one of a kind. Like him. If released, it could spawn an army of more super-flies, and then in a week or two there'd be all the more crane flies to harass his cubicle-neighbours with, rather then just a single stuck one.
He grinned at the beginnings of an idea, the gesture breaking across his lips in a feral twist, before, mind made up, he leaned forward, reaching towards the window's lock to flick open the catch and let it swing wide.
He could live with... Mmm?
He froze, hanging half-way out the window as he was, nose turning into the wind as he closed his eyes to recapture the faint whiff of cinnamon and baking that he'd caught on the edge of a breeze.
There- there it was again, clear as day, oozing delectably from the vague direction of the break room.
His eyes snapped open, wide and excited.
"Cinnabons!"
((<3 Heeey~! *squishes the three of you* BJORN AIDUGKHASKJG ...xD; I do believe he not only dissed spanish baking but compared himself to an insect. Oh yes. Denmark is in the house. *squishes* And... he is heading in your direction? I'm sorry - 'tis my first post with him, and it took a bit to find him. xD;))
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However, as she exited the elevator, a simply mouthwatering aroma wafted through the hall, filling her senses with the warm smell of cinnamon. It was a familiar smell, one that she remembered from the times that she spent at her aunt and uncle's house. She knew what the smell was and Leti couldn't help but feel herself drawn to it. She quickly made her way down the hall to the door leading into the break room, only to stop at the entrance as she saw two familiar faces and one she did not. "Hello..." she smiled at the three before looking over at her cousin, the smile turning into more of a knowing smirk. "I should have known it was you."
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With only half a mug full of milky brown coma-inducing caffeine, he followed the smell like a blood hound, except picture a more graceful and perhaps attractive form traversing the halls. Damn, it had to have been pretty far away, he deduced. The smell was so faint, but it had whet his appetite; it was then that he realized he was famished.
"Dieu," he was heard muttering to himself as he skimmed past the many doors in pursuit of the sugary scent. But his desperate chase came to an end at the break room doors. The candied smell was so powerful that he hesitated to open the door, fearing he would be overpowered by a sudden outburst of euphoria. Who could have made something that enticed him, a discerning food critic?!
Some might have seen this strange 'passion' for food as outlandish and his reaction to this mysterious smell utterly stupid, but he was trembling with excitement. Beyond the doors was something magical, he knew. More magical and more enthralling than even Disneyland! Oui! He had to find out what was beyond the door! And, with a motivated push, he parted the doors and waltzed in to a discovery that was huge to the Frenchman.
"Antonio!" he called. "What is that smell that's permeated my office?! What is it that smells so delicious?!"
His voice sounded shaky like that of a giddy schoolgirl and his eyes were frantic with enthusiasm as he scanned the vicinity. Hmm, Leticia and Lovino, two he had met before. But who were those other two?
Of course, Francis Bonnefoy had never in his life tasted a churro.
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"Come in, come in! Please, have a churro! I made them myself just last night, and I made sure they were nice and warm~~"
And that's when he heard it. Even from down the hall, it was clear as day.
Cinnabons.
His hand clenched around the churro he had just taken a bite out of, sending the filling flooding into his mouth. His traditional Spanish cooking had NOT just been compared to shopping mall fare.
He scanned the bowl and selected one of the best in the batch, wrapping it up in a paper towel, saving it especially for the owner of that voice.
Oh, it was on, now.
((Spain is very proud of his cooking, that he is. Also, I'm a tad confused. This is just one thread, but am I supposed to respond to the posts individually, anyway?))
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His feet carried him in an increasingly more excited trot down the hall, his stomach mumbling in quiet approval as he dove through the winding halls of the company, leaping down a short flight of stairs two steps at a time in the drive of to reach the break room. He'd had breakfast this morning, sure- but god, he loved Cinnabons. They'd kept him alive during the last years of his company, and besides - they were cinnabons. Cinnamon doughnuts.
He liked cinnamon.
Finally spotting the yawning doorway of his destination, he strode forward with a slight skip in his step, a strange twinkle entering his eye. The twinkle only increased when he finally stepped over the threshold and realised just who was hovering near the back, silent and detached as ever, of the congregation that was gathered around a scruffy-haired man leaning against a cabinet, his hand stretched half-out towards a bowl on the counter top.
His nordic.
"Hej, Bjorn!" He called, tossing him a cocky grin as he stepped across the room. He noticed the others fully for the first time during his approach, the man who presumably owned the Cinnabons, for one, leaning casually back as he grinned at the others, beaming at the shorter, grouchier one who stood quite close beside him in particular. The tall blond man and smartly dressed woman were standing somewhere on Bjorn's other side - he knew none of them, with the exception of Bjorn and possibly that pretty little brunette, and he raised a hand in a mock salute, grin unmovable. It'd been too long since he'd seen his 'best friend' - indeed, it was slightly weird - they worked in the same building, after all. Bad luck, heh. Ah well! "Mornin'. Breakfast!"
He clopped on over, placing himself between the scruffy-haired man and Bjorn with ease, resting an arm casually on the counter as he turned to pick out a Cinnabon - happy, content, excited~
His eagerness ruptured into confusion faster than an imploding flying pig at the sight of the pastry ropes lining the bottom of the bowl.
"...Eh?"
((*squishes francis and leticia* Heeey~! :D))
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The Italian blinked, then rolled his eyes. "Oi, Antonio. Should've known you'd bring your sweets to work one day." Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't love the other man's cooking. Not that he'd say that out loud to anyone.
He felt a tingle on the back of his neck, meaning that there was something not right about the room. He, of course, had yet to actually notice Francic in the room...
(ooc: Duuuuude XD *cuddles you all* )
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She stepped away so he could have his turn at the bowl, snickering again when he seemed to be confused with what was in it. Oh, so this was the guy who had yelled from down the hall... "They're churros," she explained before taking a bite. Dios mio they were delicious...
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After that first bite, first taste, Francis felt a wave of satisfaction wash over his body. Creeping up past his shoulders and wrapping around his body, contentment embraced him with its gentle hands. Ahhh... He stared at whatever remained clutched between his fingers and, for a second, he hesitated to finish, not wanting the flavor to leave him so soon--it was as if two long lovers were parting for good. A little pout brushed across his face as he stared despondently at the churro, but he finished it either way and then stared at his hands. It was amazing, he assessed, that he never realized how truly empty his life had been. Of course, he absolutely loved eclairs as well as many other cylindrically shaped desserts, but he had to face facts...something about the churro was so simple that it defied all logic. Put straightforward, Francis thought that it was virtually the 'perfect snack'. Sure, he had seen many of those imitations at amusement parks, but they lacked a little detail that made all food unique (a little detail that Arthur seemed to lack, apparently). Antonio had plenty of it; it was love.
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The white made fell into a dazed state as he stepped out. He did not realize that there was a large amount of people until he heard a certain Dane's voice. He froze. "E-Einar?" And he is only a few feet away from Bjorn as well! He could almost feel the Norwegian man's annoyance.
"Ah... Mr. Bonnefoy?" He didn't quite expect to see him either. "And..." The two others---the female and the male---he did not know their names. Almost showing no emotion, he steadily walked over to Bjorn and then gave Einar small pout-frown. "I did not know you work here." It was not that he did not like him; it was just Bjorn somehow talked him into thinking that every word that escapes from the Dane's mouth would be... eh... annoying. Despite his small size in comparison with Einar, he did not show any other expression but a straight, bland face.
Brushing that aside for a moment, he stared at the pastries on the dish. "What are those?"
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"It's called a churro," he said, giving the word perhaps a little too much of its native inflection. "It's a traditional Spanish confection made by hand. You can't find this kind of quality from any commercial vendor."
He turned to Romano with a grin.
"Nothing like a little sweetness to start off the day, right?" He nearly laughed out loud at the look of utter satisfaction on Francis's face.
"It's like you've never even seen one before," he chuckled to himself. "Have another one, if you like. There's plenty for everyone!"
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Yes, yes it was.
Oh, there went his pen. He had to go find a new one in the break room (everyone forgot their pens there, obviously), since it was now impossible to find. Gilbert had to go get a new one, otherwise he couldn’t be a good employee and finish his work.
The elevator doors opened and Gilbert was hit with a wave of cinnamon. Was it…? Someone brought churros! Fuck yeah! He could probably coerce whoever it was to give him some. Gilbert sauntered into the break room, to find more people than he expected to be on break at this early hour.
“Yo, Antonio, Francis.” He leaned an arm on each of their shoulders, not once taking his eyes off the sugary confections. “Didja make them, Antonio? Looks pretty damn awesome, but I’m surprised you actually got off your ass to make something.”
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Peering silently around the corner like a spooky pedostalker, he'd allow his feet to follow his face only after he'd gathered a little reconnaissance-- sure it was creepy like nobody's business, but there was such a commotion no one would probably even notice. Well, he didn't know what exactly those things were, but they smelled and looked delicious; he could feel his arteries harden by simply basking in their glory. Gupta relaxed visibly, taking comfort in the fact that a sugar-induced coma was probably nearby.
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"Gilbert~!" he said with a heavy accent, "This is absolutely wonderful! This 'churro'!!!"
He laughed as if he had appeared victorious in some epic battle (which everyone knew would never happen as long as Arthur was around) and cradled the snack with such affection one would have thought that the food was Francis' destined lover.
No, it didn't really matter to Francis whether or not Gilbert actually knew about churros, he just wanted to share his joys, completely unaware of how much of a fool he may have looked like.
He peered over his own shoulder and caught a glimpse of the Spaniard.
"This is fantastic, Antonio! I guarantee that I'll be visiting you more often! You have to make me some more sometime~~!"
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"Thank you... Mr. Antonio is it?" The Spaniard appeared to be very popular. He figured out his first name fine. He then nodded as he slowly picked up the churro. No, it wasn't as if he was afraid that it was going to explode, but he was being cautious that he would not let the cinnamon---or the sugar, spill all over. One bite of it and he found himself impressed. He then eyed Bjorn. No wonder why the older man took two...
Argh. More people are appearing---especially that red-eyed annoying guy from his department. He brushed that off for now and then took another small bite from the churro, "I was planning to take a short break. Everyone is here, so it seems. Is this some sort of event?"
Pausing for a second, he hesitated whether he should admit it or not. He continued after Francis, "These are indeed very good, Mr. Antonio."
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