And keep your jokes to yourself

[the_iceman]

There were only very few people in the world who had seen Mycroft Holmes without a tie. He only took off his jacket in extreme circumstances, but his tie, in a double Windsor knot, was a set feature. Come winter, come summer, in England or Dubai; Mycroft would always wear it.

He had only taken it off now because he didn’t want it covered in flour. It had taken him long enough to get the wardrobe to provide him with one of acceptable quality and he took great care of it.

It took him some time, and great patience, but eventually he managed to gather all the ingredients the recipe mentioned – though he did find himself needing to make some adaptations to the original, as the food replicator only seemed compliant up to a point. But he managed to gather them without swearing and that was saying something.

Now, to business; cake.

It was his brother who was the master of ingredients – be it of a chemical kind – and who, through years and years of practical experience in measuring, compounding and mixing, had perfected the science. Mycroft had never quite bothered to put scientific knowledge to practice – let alone engaging in any attempt at cooking or baking. And though he did understand the basic purpose of a whisk (no genius required there), he had never before held one in his hand.

He felt quite ridiculous – and he was not even wearing an apron – but in quite good spirits. He didn’t feel particularly useful as such, and baking a cake could hardly cure the mental tedium from which he suffered, but it was something.


((Yup. You’re reading it right. It’s not a figment of your imagination, or a door to another dimension. Find him at any point, either gathering ingredients, baking a cake, or somewhere in between, coming to terms with the fact that he’s actually doing something.

Comments

[auroradora]

Tonks's hand darts toward the bowl, one finger coming away coated in cake batter before Suit Man can bat her away. She sucks it clean and nods, mmming in the back of her throat, her eyebrows going up. "Not bad," she says appreciatively. "Always did love a good vanilla cake. Not that chocolate doesn't have its place, but sometimes you just want something simple."

She goes to the fridge and gets out the pitcher of pumpkin juice she'd stashed there a couple of days ago, noting with a frown that the level's gone down. Pouring herself a glass, she hops up onto a nearby counter and sips at it. "What kind of frosting, when it's done?"

[the_iceman]

There was no point in telling her to keep away from the batter, and when she did compliment it, he decided not to mind too much.

"The recipe says strawberry, but I wasn't able to get any." He said pointing at a bowl of bright blue strawberry-like fruit. "I haven't decided if I should use them."

[auroradora]

"Hmm." Tonks reached over, grabbed one, and inspected it thoughtfully. It smelled fresh, and looked like a normal fruit except for the colour. She bit into it.

Almost instantly her face screwed up as her tongue puckered with the most intense sour flavour she'd encountered outside of a bag of Bertie Bott's. "Ooh!" she exclaimed, swallowing her unfortunate bite and shaking her head, her eyes almost watering. "Definitely not. Not unless you're actually a fan of sour grapes."

[the_iceman]

"Ah, well, thank you for trying them. Then chocolate perhaps. I have an abundance of that." The replicator seemed to think chocolate was the appropriate ingredient for nearly everything he asked for.