EZ-Bake Dollsy (Active/OPEN)
Characters: Anna Marshall, Saya, Mewtwo, Naminé, Roxas, whoever the hell wants to be! No permission necessary~!
Setting: Blue Kitchen
Time: Day 006, evening, not long before Koizumi's meeting.
Summary: Anna decides to make some refreshments for the meeting coming up, and soon finds herself giving baking lessons to quite the motley crew....
Warnings: Mommying, cluelessness, awkwardness, adorableness, cuteness and general fluff..... Definitely a sunshine thread. :o No angst or gore here!
Something inside of her had snapped.
Maybe it was the corpses' fault, the sickening atmosphere of tragedy and sorrow and loss they lent to the new house. Maybe it was the grating suspicion that monsters could maybe come out in the daytime now, like the tracks of that wallcrawler she had seen, not cleaned up like the rest had been after night was over and done with. Maybe the worry and grief and strain and even outright terror of the past days and nights had worn her out, first with being kidnapped herself, then with dealing with her sudden muteness and loss of her sorcery, then with Alphonse, and Machi being kidnapped, and.... And it was all just too much. Too much. She couldn't deal with all this.
So she didn't.
She wasn't thinking about the oncoming night at all. That could come later, when reality settled back onto her shoulders; but for now.... For now, she was enjoying this little reprieve. Anna hummed silently (she could do nothing more) to herself as she moved about the kitchen, the sleeves of her coat pushed up to her elbows, a long, faded, checked white and green apron with what seemed to be cherries and soft pink blossoms on it tied around her. A bowl and pulping implement lay in the sink, ready to be washed, as did a juicer--a few pitchers of raspberry lemonade were covered and waiting on the counter, to be given ice cubes just before they were brought out to the Grand Room. At the moment, she herself was starting to mix up the ingredients in a bowl to make cookie dough.
For the moment, she had set aside the pressure of being a strong, independent woman who refused to break in the face of pressure. She had been born in the 50's, for God's sake--right now, she was simply doing what she had always been taught should be her joy and only occupation. For once in her life lately, rather than thinking and acting responsibly, she was content to just be domestic. She could be disgusted with herself later.
Setting: Blue Kitchen
Time: Day 006, evening, not long before Koizumi's meeting.
Summary: Anna decides to make some refreshments for the meeting coming up, and soon finds herself giving baking lessons to quite the motley crew....
Warnings: Mommying, cluelessness, awkwardness, adorableness, cuteness and general fluff..... Definitely a sunshine thread. :o No angst or gore here!
Something inside of her had snapped.
Maybe it was the corpses' fault, the sickening atmosphere of tragedy and sorrow and loss they lent to the new house. Maybe it was the grating suspicion that monsters could maybe come out in the daytime now, like the tracks of that wallcrawler she had seen, not cleaned up like the rest had been after night was over and done with. Maybe the worry and grief and strain and even outright terror of the past days and nights had worn her out, first with being kidnapped herself, then with dealing with her sudden muteness and loss of her sorcery, then with Alphonse, and Machi being kidnapped, and.... And it was all just too much. Too much. She couldn't deal with all this.
So she didn't.
She wasn't thinking about the oncoming night at all. That could come later, when reality settled back onto her shoulders; but for now.... For now, she was enjoying this little reprieve. Anna hummed silently (she could do nothing more) to herself as she moved about the kitchen, the sleeves of her coat pushed up to her elbows, a long, faded, checked white and green apron with what seemed to be cherries and soft pink blossoms on it tied around her. A bowl and pulping implement lay in the sink, ready to be washed, as did a juicer--a few pitchers of raspberry lemonade were covered and waiting on the counter, to be given ice cubes just before they were brought out to the Grand Room. At the moment, she herself was starting to mix up the ingredients in a bowl to make cookie dough.
For the moment, she had set aside the pressure of being a strong, independent woman who refused to break in the face of pressure. She had been born in the 50's, for God's sake--right now, she was simply doing what she had always been taught should be her joy and only occupation. For once in her life lately, rather than thinking and acting responsibly, she was content to just be domestic. She could be disgusted with herself later.