(2018-03-26) Crisis Cookies
Crisis Cookies
Summary: Grace and Carmichael introduce Bryce to chocolate chip cookies; Ashton wrestles with certain developments… and rubbery noodles!
Date: 2018-03-26
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Scene Runner: NA

Kitchen, Winbarry Estate
Mon Mar 26, 2018

The kitchen has gone through quite an update. The walls have been repainted and thewood floor restored. It is now firmly imbedded in the 21st century with a six burner duel fuel stove/oven combo and a separate dual oven on top of that. A large, double wide frenchdoor fridge sits near the stove with a marble top cabinet between them. More marble topped cabinets and matching island with a few stools,give plenty of storage and counter space. More cabinets above are full of various canned goods and other foods, for the preparation of meals for the students. The pantry is equally full, one area of it set aside for between meal snacks of hungry teenagers.


<FS3> Grace rolls Baking: Failure.

Proof in the pudding, right here, of things being a bit 'off' lately: Grace Halleson's baking has turned out like garbage. The night before ended up being decidedly awful for the wolf girl and other students who went to bed, not expecting the horrible nightmares that would be unleashed upon their sleeping minds (see: board post 4/42)

But there you have it. Grace had a crappy night, that particular evening… one can imagine how the 'nightmares' went for a girl who has very little idea, overall, of what one other part of her subconsciousness is capable of. Violent, awful dreams in which she was the one inflicting the violence.

.. so yeee~eeah. Grace has been sleeping badly, the past couple of nights. No wonder her chocolate chip cookies, so frequently done up perfectly, have come out of the oven looking flat and dismal. Excess cookie spread… a true annoyance for any baker worth his/her salt. Classes have ended and there's that window of time between that and suppertime.. Grace had hoped to make a treat for her peer to have after dinner. THAT was a flop. The girl is currently scraping the remnants off of a pan an into the compost, a woebegone look upon her face as she works alone in the kitchen.

Bryce walks into the kitchen holding a novel whose spine read The Three Musketeers and a larger book of poetry which are the Sonnets of William Shakespeare. He has the eyes of someone looking for something. As he enters, he starts to sniff the air and detects the smell of something cooking. He cannot quite place the scent of it unfortunately. Hoping to get in and out before the rush of dinner, he notices the girl scrapping things into the compose. Maybe that is was the smell he noticed. He pauses in his search and looks at the girl. "Um, hi. Is everything okay?" He blinks and then says, "Oh, I'm Bryce."

Scrape, scrape, scrape….. sigh. What a waste. Grace mourns the loss of every grain of sugar, it feels like. No she's not so much of a penny pincher as to be annoying about it, she just… really likes the process of baking. Every flubbed project or recipe is a personal affront. She looks up from the pan, sensing the arrival of another… sensitive hearing speaks to her of a body approaching and Grace's scarlet-colored irises are already affixed to Bryce the moment he strolls in. The girl blushes.. she had hoped she could've hidden the body before someone saw her… but c'est la vie!

"H-hi," She offers with a tiny blush, lips curling into a smile. "Yeah, I just made a mistake… or a few. N-never good to do this, distracted. Do you need help finding anything, Bryce?" The brunette asks, setting the pan aside. She'll give it a light wipedown and try again later. "My name's Grace. You're new, I take it?"

Peeeeek~. A black-haired student peeks around the door into the kitchen. Seems there's more than one student who's smelled the botched baking. Probably the sugar burning he smells. It's Carmichael! Though for the one who won't know that, the tops of his wings peek out above his head, so it's clear right from the off that he's no normal teen. Then again, he's HERE, of course he's no normal teen.

"Oh, hello Bryce," he offers, seeing him first. He enters the kitchen proper, seeing Grace. "Hello," he greets her, in his British-accented voice. "I don't believe we've met. My name's Carmichael." No mention of the ruined cookies yet. Let's not embarrass her more than necessary.

Bryce looks at the scraping and then back at her. "Sorry," he says though part of him knows that he wasn't there and was the distraction, but who knows. At least he feels bad that she has gone through that issue. "Good evening, Carmichael." He glances back to Grace and nods his head, "Yes, I've, well, I've been here about a week. I was just looking for any garbage, specifically, um, well, paper goods." The closer he got to saying what he was asking for the dumber he felt for mentioning. "Nice to meet you, Grace. Need any help?"

GAH. Well what did she expect?! Grace was blushing a tad upon having her eff-up noticed by Bryce. Now, now? Here's another showing up, lured by the scent of baked cookies that aren't sure, exactly, how to cookie! Grace freezes as Carmichael peeks his angelic head into the kitchen, her wide eyes roving to him as he introduces himself. Wings, on any humanoid body, always seem to throw Grace off-guard. Not in a BAD way but just… yeah, she's still adjusting to her peers. Wings are a drastic — but lovely — sight and she looks from Carmichael's wings ('uh, my eyes are up here lady') to his face. "OH, ah.. hi," She clears her throat. She gets to meet two other students while her flubbed cookies are yet hot in the bottom of a trash can!

Go figure!

She remembers Uncle V's words, along the lines of humility and owning mistakes.. and the girl smiles gently. "Hi Carmichael, I'm Grace." She repeats amicably, as she looks again to Bryce.

"Welcome to Coral Springs.. I've been here a couple of months now." She smiles at the boy.. she can at least help that much. She moves to indicate a series of bins, tucked around a corner, one of which indicates paper waste. "Will that do it?"

Carmichael gives a pleasant, friendly smile to Bryce at the greeting. "I hope you're doing all right?" It's a question, but not so much. Sort of. Kinda. Not really. But it is. British have that weird way of questioning without questions. Grace's greeting gets a smile as well… and he bows. An actual bow, spreading his wings a bit. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Grace," he returns, straightening up, that smile still there.

Bryce glances over at the paper waste bin that Grace indicated. He nods his head and says, "That is good. I need to keep practicing, um, cutting things so I thought if I used trash then I would get practice in and be helpful." Glancing back to Carmichael, he nods his head. "I'm okay. Getting a bit worried about the library though." Shifting his eyes back once more to Grace, he say, "Um, I hope you don't mind me asking, but, well, what were you making?"

Two things now: what could this polite boy have need of, in the paper bin? Why is this winged boy bowing to her? Grace went from f'king up cookies to having company, one of which wants to 'practice' on.. on.. wut? Grace's reddish gaze flits to the bin and back to Bryce's face, lips still curved into a shy albeit kind smile. No use gawping, she should ask.. and she will: "Practice…? For what?" Well, Grace is curious.

Then there's angel-boy being so courteous and civil and the werewolf feels every bit the drudge in a filthy apron and with flour in her hair. But he's British.. isn't that par for the course? Grace smiles wider, despite herself, "First time I've ever received a bow." She offers, her voice soft and subdued as she closes over the lid of the compost where her cookies went to die. Die.

"Chocolate chip cookies. I feel kinda bad to have messed them up… but I guess my mind isn't in it this evening."

Carmichael raises an eyebrow at Bryce's words. "Worried about the library?" he inquires. "Why would you be worried about the library? You haven't been cutting up the books, have you?" There's a bit of wryness in his tone, because he's pretty sure Bryce would never do that — in fact he's pretty sure the mere suggestion will cause a panicked reaction!

He chuckles at Grace's observation of the bow. "My father believed in politeness," he replies. And then he adds, "Particularly to beautiful ladies." And adds a playful wink. Oh geez. But yes, he does notice the mention of what was attempted. "Everyone makes mistakes," he reassures. "You should have seen the first time I tried to make… they call them biscuits in the south. The tablecloth had to be put down." He chuckles.

Bryce notices the smile from Grace. It made him feel like he wasn't being as stupid sounding as he felt. He took a breath and answered, "Well, I'm practicing cutting things up with my scissors." Oh, that sounds worse. "I mean," he quickly tries to add in order to fix it, "I am making scissors with my powers. Just learned how to do it yesterday as a step towards making better things. I use to only make swords."

Looking at Carmichael, he wonders how he can talk so comfortably with people especially cute girls. Bryce can barely talk comfortably to his own reflection. "Well, I was just thinking that if I keep memorizing the books, I might run out after a while. Is there a larger library in town?" He does seem to be talking better with people he has met here though.

He looks back at the closed compost and then at Grace when she calls them cookies. "Chocolate chip cookies?" he repeats as though it was something new sounding. "Are they good?" He sounds like he is seriously asking if cookies are good.

beautiful…? Grace blinks once, twice; oh God, Constantine is bad enough for calling her such, all the time.. what is it with this school and being home to a variety of beautiful, polite boys?! She clears her throat and moves with a dry rag, now, to gently wipe down the still-warm pan which — protected, mind you, by parchment paper — transported the ill-fated cookies to their doom.

Yes, must be a British thing. Grace will roll with the punches. "Now you're just trying to soothe my pride." She chuckles… oh, what's this? No skulking? No shrinking back? Is she getting comfortable in her new home? Confident? Perhaps; more than a few things have led to this moment. She turns her gaze from charm!angel to the kind boy who wants to practice with scissors——

… WUT?!

Grace squints, trying to understand. Her powers, she is still trying to understand.. but what she does know is that she's strong (despite her small size) and can beat things to a pulp. Magic and manifestation are all beyond her. Therefore, she listens to Bryce raptly. "With you… powers? S-so like… you can think things out of mid-air? With your mind!?" Then he goes and—-oh no. OH HELL NAW.

Grace's lovely feral eyes fill her face. "You have… never. had. a chocolate chip. cookie…!?" She is asking even as she prepares a mixing bowl. OH GOD!

Carmichael understands now. "Ah, I see. There probably is. There's also a book store in town, though that's more if you want to buy a book. Though you might not need to buy the books if you can just memorize them." He too is surprised by the mention of Bruce not having had cookies before, and blinks. "That's a shame. They really are good. And there's so many variations you can get them in."

Soothing her pride? "No, not really. Empty compliments are no compliments, if I didn't think you were beautiful I wouldn't say it." It's an honest tone. Though with Grace's reaction to Bryce's words, Carmichael can't help but laugh. "I see you're about to try to remedy that," he notes to her. "Need some help? I'm a decent hand in the kitchen myself."

Bryce nods his head. How did she know what his power was when they just met. "That is exactly what I do, I make them with my mind. I use, well, my psychic energy to make stuff. At least that is how it is supposed to work. I'm not, not very good at it yet. I could show you…" It was a tentative offer.
He glances back at Carmichael and nods his head. "I wondering if they would get angry if I just showed up and read for a while." The way he makes it sound is like a kid asking if he can show up at a candy store and do taste testing or a geek getting to play on all the computer consoles at Gamestop.

Returning to the important topic of cookies, Bryce says, "I've read about them. I wasn't allowed to eat anything the doctors didn't allow. And for a couple years," he cuts himself short from saying whatever he was planning on saying. He ends up just saying, "I couldn't." He then moves his eyes from Carmichael to Grace, back to Carmichael and then back to Grace. "I, I think you are, um, pretty too." His is sincere though not elegant or confident as Carmichael's. "What are you doing?"

Looking at the half-angel, Grace can surmise that he is earnest! This surprises and decides her, at the same time. She shall trust him to bake with her. To make cookies for Bryce! Because nobody should ever have to go through life without tasting a warm chocolate chip cookie. Something about Carmichael is a bit familiar, though, in more of a 'I know you to see you' way. She squints at him before she's rapidly beginning to assemble the supplies needed for chocolate chip cookies, V.2.

"You sure can help. Could you measure out what I have written down," She indicates a worn-looking piece of paper, resting steadfast in a three-ring-binder, upon the counter. "Sugar, flour… I'm going to get these dishes done up so we can start over." Grace explains… she likes baking with others.

She listens to Bryce's words meanwhile and damnit… polite boys. Polite boys. Bryce goes and compliments her too and the wolf girl flushes. "T—thanks… you're both really too kind. C-can you eat cookies now though? Is it safe?" She asks Bryce, to be sure… why couldn't he, before? Grace looks kind and concerned as her hands dip into the frothy suds of the water in the sink. "I would like to see what you can do, if you're comfortable." Powers-wise… Grace is a visual person.

"I don't think they'd mind, as long as you didn't cause trouble or destroy anything," Carmichael replies to Bryce. "People do read in bookstores, after all." He chuckles as Bryce agrees with him regarding Grace. "You see? Consensus agrees." But he does note to Bryce, "If you can have them now, it might be an experience you'd enjoy. They're sweet, but the chocolate pieces are a definite different consistency and taste than the rest of the cookie."

Carmichael nods as Grace asks him to start measuring stuff out. "Oh, of course." He rolls up his sleeves to start getting into it. He doesn't mention the squint-eyed look — if she recognizes him, she'll either say so or not; he did figure that was what the expression was about. As for seeing Bryce's powers? "They're quite fascinating," he notes. "It's like he's… metal-elemental or something. But not metal. Something like that." He's not good at explaining that.

So, it's a bit early for dinner, but Ashton opted to skip lunch. Actually, he's skipped lunch and dinner for the last couple of days, and most other occasions that would call for social interaction. So, he thought he would sneak into the kitchen get something to eat so that he could continue to do so. He walks in and slows his pace when he sees others in the kitchen. He mumbles a little on the soft side, "Um.. don't mind me… " And quickly ducks into the pantry to grab a cup of ramen to nuke.

Bryce's face shows one of surprise. "Oh, you don't have to make them for me. Thank you though. I would, I think I would like to try them." As for why he couldn't eat them before, he doesn't bring it up. Though he does answer the question she asked, "I should be able to eat them now. My father was, well, controlling is too mild of a word."

He then looks to Ashton when he says not to mind him. He closes his eyes and start talking in a way that sounds like he is reading: "Don't mind me - said to tell someone who is in the same room as you not to pay any attention to you, because you do not want to interrupt what they are doing." He then blinks his eyes open and says, "Oh, sorry. I minded. Hello, Ashton."

Looking back to Grace, Bryce says, "I can show you my powers as limited as they are." He holds out his left hand and the silver circlet on his head flashes cyan. A thin beam of cyan light starts to emerge from his forehead a distance of fourteen inches into the air. The cyan beam then starts to form what appears to be a sword. Not just any sword, but a katana that appears to be from a Japanese anime. The katana almost looks real. In fact, it is closer to looking real than it has in the last few days. "This is the best thing I can make."

The werewolf perks at mention of 'metal-elemental'. A soft smile, and a blush… "Oh, well I would really like to see, then." Grace offers.. maybe if there is some semblance of a likeness to such a skill, she could point Bryce toward her boyfriend! Granted, who is she to say that their skills are exact? She watches Carmichael preparing the measurements for the dry ingredients and she nods once, in approval. He does know what he's doing! Not that she doubted!

"I'm almost done here," She remarks on the dishes, drying them quickly for immediate use. Movement is noticed out of the corner of her eye and she looks up Ashton's mumbled words as he enters the—- oh! The pantry! Grace rests a finger to her chin shyly and calls out after the boy as he goes to find some ramen. "Would you mind grabbing me one of the packet of chocolate chips in there, Ashton? My hands are soaked!" She recalls his name from classes, at least. Hopefully it's not a bother! He did seem a bit down… maybe a cookie will help him, too?

She silences for Bryce's demonstration, and just about drops a whisk onto the floor before hastening to catch it. Grace holds a whisk; Bryce holds a——katana…!? Her eyes practically fill her face. "Now that… is amazing." She whispers. Absolutely deserving of a feed of cookies… Grace could never, in a thousand years, pull something like THAT off!

Carmichael looks up at the soft words, and then smiles. He is most definitely going to 'mind' Ashton. He smiles at seeing him, and all but chirps, "Hello! Are you feeling all right? I haven't seen you for a couple days." He can't know what happened, what Ashton summoned. He has his back to Bryce, but he's seen the display before, and chuckles at Grace's reaction to it. As for the chocolate chips? "We're going to try to make some chocolate chip cookies," he explains to Ashton.

Ashton is in the pantry for a few minutes looking for the chocolate chips. He is as unfamiliar with cooking as he is with dancing the can-can by bonfire in the middle of the Gobi Desert, and he doesn't dance, nor has he ever been to the Gobi Desert. "Um.. yeah… " Finally he retrieves the chocolate morsels and sets them on the counter near Grace. "Here, you go." He moves over to the sink, reading the instructions to himself. "Add one cup of water…" He looks around and grabs a coffee cup, not a measuring cup, and fills it with water and sticks the waxed cardboard cup in the microwaves.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Bryce says when he startles Grace. "I, I thought you wanted to see." That is the second time in as many days that someone was startled by his power. Is his ability really that scary for others? The katana slowly changes into a pair of wicked looking scissors which just float in the air in front of him. "This is the newest thing I've been working on. Trying to learn to make new things with my powers, and, well, this was the easiest to transfer to from the sword." Glancing over at Ashton, he says, "Oh, I've heard about those. Ramen, right?"

"Thank you, Ashton," Carmichael replies. Now that Ashton's out of the closet (hehe), Carmichael tries again. "Hey Ashton? Are you all right?" he hedges quietly. Just loud enough for Ashton to hear. Bryce's words draw his attention then, and he notes, "It's all right, Bryce. When someone's powers are immediately visible people tend to get started to see them. That's nor necessary a bad thing, though. There's such a thing as a pleasant surprise."

"That's what they call it… but it certainly doesn't taste like the ramen at Ivan Ramen on Clinton… This is like … I don't even know how to compare the two… " Ashton replies to Bryce. He looks over to Carmichael and nods slightly, "You're welcome." He doesn't look like he's gotten much sleep in the last few days. "What? Oh.. " His eyes glance downward and he shrugs, "Um… yeah, I guess… well, not really."

The werewolf offered Ashton a sweet smile when he brought her the chips, and returned her focus to the countertop mixer. She could have gone about creaming the sugars and fat by hand but that will have — despite her strength and endurance — taken too long. She busies herself with loading the bowl; mercifully she hadn't witnessed Ashton's method of.. ah, 'measuring' water. If you thought the katana reaction was acute enough….

A few minutes pass, the wet ingredients are being mixed by ye olde Kitchenaid, and Grace tears open the baggie of chocolate chips. Her scarlet gaze flits amidst all who are present, "It's fine, Bryce. I thought it was neat, truly… I'm still not really used to some of the amazing things t-that I've seen here…" She admits, turning to Carmichael next and finally Ashton. The latter sure looks worn down, and Grace's brows furrow. "Can I get you anything?" She offers to Ashton, head tilting. She seems completely, utterly comfortable in this space.

"Amazing?" Bryce really doesn't think of his abilities like that. "I guess, I guess I never looked at them like that because, well, because I have to learn to control them or bad things will happen. Especially to me and maybe to others." He doesn't come right out and say that his powers can kill him if he isn't careful.
"Pleasant surprise?" Bryce ask sounding confused. "I thought surprises were bad. At least they always seemed to be so based on my father's reaction to them. Also, surprises the doctors offered me were never good."
The comment about the ramen draws a questioning look from Bryce. "How is the ramen different? I thought ramen was ramen." He closes his eyes once more as though looking at something in his own head. When he opens his eyes, he says, "I only see one definition." He then hears Ashton's answer of Carmichael's question. "What's, what's wrong if you don't mind me asking."

"Cuppa Noodles are very different from professionally made ramen," Carmichael replies. Mainly for Bryce's benefit, he adds, "There's a place for both, mind you. I rather like the Cuppa Noodles myself. They have a… homey flavor to them. Something that you know is not good for you, but something you nonetheless eat because it reminds you of your childhood." Ashton's answer, though, gets a concerned look. "Anything I could do to help?"

As Grace busies herself with putting ingredients together, and he starts putting the ingredients within easy reach of the mixer. "Here you go. Let me know what you need, I'll get it," he offers. And Bryce's mention of surprises gets a smile. "Certainly. If someone presents you with a wrapped box that has something in you like, that's a pleasant surprise. Or if people are having a surprise party for you." The mention of ramen gets a chuckle. "It's the same thing, but made differently. The way it's made at a restaurant tends to be… more involved."

Ashton sticks a fork in the cup of noodles. "Real ramen has vegetables , sometimes a hard boiled egg sliced up.. an actual broth.. " He stirs up the ramen, as best as he can with having cooked it with not enough water. He looks at Bryce and simply says, "Found out that the person that I thought was my father might not actually be… and well, you could say that the other option isn't exactly a nice family to be part of…" He shakes his head to Carmichael, "Nah.. not really sure that there is anything that can be done…"

The half-angel presents the prepared dry ingredients, and Grace smiles her thanks. "I'm okay now, thanks. Won't take long now." She answers Carmichael, leaving him to engage Bryce and Ashton.

She is not territorial about the kitchen, or her recipes that she favors… when help is offered she will take it, especially when time is of the essence to have these yummies ready before the supper rush. She needn't a boost to her senses to surmise what Ashton is preparing, and a delicate testing of the air with the barest inhalation has her stomach grumbling a bit. She listens to the conversation at hand as she stops the mixer, peers in at the beaten ingredients… reckons it needs just thirty seconds more… no less! Grace flicks a switch and the mixer gives 'er guts.

She looks sad, briefly, at this talk of fathers not being what they were thought to be… oh no. Grace is quiet, listening.

Bryce looks over at Carmichael and Ashton as they talk about ramen. "Oh, so it is similar in basic ingredients but different in the actual quality and process." He then grows silent as Ashton starts talking about his father. "Your father isn't, um, isn't your father?" He can hear the pain in his voice and can tell that it bothers him. "I'm, I'm sorry?" He thinks that is the correct thing to say. "You can't pick your family, unfortunately. Sometimes the father you have is better….sometimes, not." He knows that he and his father have a difficult relationship.
Bryce notices that Grace grows silent as they talk. He doesn't know if something is bothering her or if she is just focusing on her cookies. He walks over towards her and asks, "Um, could I see your recipe?"

Carmichael looks to Ashton sympathetically. "I'm sorry to hear that." He has an idea of what it's all about. "I'm rather… still trying to wrap my brain around things too. It's not nearly as bad as what you have going, mind. I'm just shocked. My father told me the truth." Ashton probably knows what that's all about too. And he nods to Grace's words. "Looking forward to it," he replies, more brightly than perhaps he needs to. But he's trying to reassure her, not only in the face of the previous flub, but with the sad she's suddenly displaying.
He nods to Bryce's observation. "That's right," he confirms. "Just like, when you make mac 'n cheese out of a box, it tastes different than if you boil the noodles and melt the cheese over them yourself." He's suddenly reminded of something. "I need to try that, my dad gave me a recipe for that I wanted to try sometime…"

Ashton chews on his slightly rubbery ramen noodles. He shrugs to Bryce, "Well, I went from one dead father to another dead father… the difference is one family that wants nothing to do with me, to now one that I don't nothing to do with." He looks over at Carmichael, "Sorry, dude.. It's a bitch, isn't it?" He pauses, "Nothing's changed, right?" He looks at Carmichael with large sad azure-green puppy dog eyes, "I mean, between us… I don't have to like write down your name on my ever growing potential mortal enemies, do I?"

Looking at the girl, she seems (and is) fine. Grace's own father, she could care one whit about… negligent, greedy knob that he is. Grace loves him for giving her life, and that's about it. Her real family is the man whose recipe she works from, who compiled this binder that she consults. She looks up at Bryce's very wise words and she nods once, her tidy plait of a braid bouncing between her shoulders. Grace works with a loose t-shirt cinched into the waist of fitted denims, with an apron tied up over the entirety of the outfit.

Grace is pulled from her thoughts by Bryce, who asks to see the recipe.. and she smiles warmly then. "Oh.. yeah, of course you may." She shimmies aside and nods toward the binder, open an lying flat upon the counter with the rather old-looking, yellowed, stained paper bearing both typewritten and scrawled notes. "My uncle Vee created that. He's the closest thing to a Dad that I have. Better than, in fact." She supplies shyly. She works the dry in with the wet ingredients, concentrating.

Bryce looks over at Carmichael with another questioning look. "Mac & cheese? Oh, I've heard of that too." But once more from the sound of his statement, he has never had that either. His forehead furrows some as he looks between Ashton and Carmichael. "Why would have a different dead father than another dead father make you two guys mortal enemies? Who even has a list of mortal enemies?" This doesn't make sense to him at all.
Shifting his attention back to Grace and her cookies, he starts to look down at her recipe but pauses. "Um, is it okay for it to be copied? I mean, I won't write it down, but if I read it then I'll remember it." He pauses. "Like forever and whenever." He nods as he listens to the story of Uncle Vee. "Sounds nice to have."

Carmichael blinks at Ashton's question to him, looking honestly surprised. "No, not at all. I'm actually, er… fallen, technically." Which might explain why his wings are black instead of white. "So I don't think we're too far apart, in that respect. Lucifer was a fallen angel after all, right?"
Now, Bryce's question… that's not for him to answer. It's completely Ashton's decision how much he wants to tell about it. What he DOES note is, "Bryce, mate… we're gonna have to get you some comfort food and see how you like it." And he chuckles. He is keeping his attention partially on Grace, too, for whenever she requires more assistance with the cookies-to-be.

Ashton nods to Carmichael with a slight smile, "Good." He chews on his lower lip as he tries to decide how to answer Bryce's question. He looks over at Carmichael then just sighs. Honesty is probably best. "Well, things have come to light that would imply that I'm…" He pauses, "That I'm possibly only half human… the other half might be .. " He fidgets slightly, "might be demon." He immediately shoves a large forkful of the rubbery noodles.

The werewolf isn't possessive of recipes; in fact she looks touched. "Oh—ah…" She looks at Bryce's face as the machine whirrrs, before dropping her gaze back to the book. "Of course you can.. it's really special." Said softly, and it is: one can see this mysterious 'uncle Vee's' happy, animated manner in the swooping cursive of his handwriting.

"I'm working on getting everything typed up, as paper cannot last forever… uncle Gun was working on it but got busy… and I was sent here before he could." Blink, blush. "If you want to look through it, go ahead. I can work these from here."

Ah, the cookies. A 'shiiffff' sound as the chocolate chips are slid into the bowl. She's got it from here, though she catches Carmichael's eye. "Could you set an oven for me, please? My hands are all cruddy… 350 degrees." Asked with a blush. Talk of angels and demons is beyond her knowledge, at this stage.. though she doesn't look to be judging whatsoever… which is perhaps a refreshing change? There's more to it than that.. way more.

Grace prepares to drop the batter onto pans, but her mind is not quite on the cookies. Not entirely.

Bryce nods his head when Ashton makes his 'demon announcement.' "I think I remember you and Loukanos said, uh, something like that the other day." He shakes his head clearly annoyed that the memory associated with his hearing isn't nearly as strong as his seeing. He then looks at Carmichael with a bit of concern on his face. He looks down briefly down at his ankles and then his knees before looking up at his face, "Fallen? Did you get hurt? I know a little first aid."
Bryce looks at Grace and sincerely says, "Thank you." He knows this paper, this recipe from Uncle Vee is very important. He looks over and reads it all in less than a minute. "I can type it up for you in the Library if you want." He walks away from the recipe to keep it clear for her and no longer looks back at it.

Carmichael smirks. "Besides, blood might be thicker than water, but there are things that are thicker than blood," he notes to Ashton. "And some things can't even compare." Grace does indeed catch his attention, and her request gets a nod. "Sure." He heads to the oven and sets it to the requested temperature. "There you go."

Now, he watches carefully for Bryce's response to Ashton's answer. And as if to stand with his friend in solidarity, he notes to Bryce, "My father turned out to be a fallen angel." Which is basically just a demon in a different stage of development, right? He's pleased when Bryce doesn't seem too disturbed by it. Though Bryce's assessment of 'fallen' gets a snicker.
"Not… literally. Fallen from grace." He pauses. "Not her." He points at Grace. "The angels who either left or were thrown out of Heaven are called 'fallen angels'. They no longer live in God's presence. My father left willingly, but he's still considered 'fallen'. His wings are black too."

Ashton is relieved and somewhat curious, if not a little disturbed, by Bryce's complete acceptance as to what he said about his possible parentage. He looks to the walking encyclopedia, "As for as who has a list of mortal enemies… There are quite a few people who are quick to assume that because I might be part demon that I am immediately one of the bad guys." He finishes off his early dinner and tosses the empty ramen soup coup in the trash.

Grace dons a vinyl disposable glove from one of the drawers and now holding a wad of batter. She watches Bryce briefly, "Thank you, Bryce. I would appreciate it.. I.. don't get a lot of time on the computers." He doesn't even ask to borrow the paper! He must have a photographic memory of sorts!

The wolf girl then goes about hand dropping tablespoon-sized dollops of cookie dough with her hands.. perfectly uniform. She's in that zone, but she looks up at the 'fallen from Grace' bit. "Huh?" Blink? Oh… huh. She goes on listening, still a bit shyly, as she eventually moves to load the pans (yes, she had enough to drop two pans' worth) into the large oven.

The timer in her head works as she moves 'round to assemble dishes and get them cleaned up, though glances toward the other three ensure that she is still listening. Grace is not a girl of many words. She goes on to work efficiently in the background, and once the timer in her head is up? Two pans of utterly beautiful chocolate chip cookies, being set out to cool! Before long she's getting them formally placed onto a platter.. though she leaves a half-dozen behind in the kitchen just for the three boys.

"I need to get these into the dining room. Excuse me… and thank you for the help." There's that shining smile.

Bryce looks quickly from Carmichael when he hears 'fall from Grace' and opens his mouth. He quickly shuts it when Carmichael explains that he isn't talking about Grace the girl but grace the expression. That definitely makes this make more sense to him.
Bryce shrugs as Ashton makes his comment about assuming. "Well, I try to limit assumptions because frequently the facts can be found with just a bit of reading." That what a 'bit of reading' is to a speed reader with almost perfect recall might be different than other people's 'bit of reading.' "Shouldn't evil be based on actions not parentage?" He asks as though he thinks that is right, but perhaps there are other definitions he is unaware of. "I just hope people don't judge me based on my own father."
He glances back to Grace as she finished the cookies. They do smell good, but he isn't quite sure when he is supposed to eat one. He wait around until they are cooled and until after others grab one as well. He doesn't want to be stingy. Shortly after grabbing his cookie, he says, "Thank you, Grace. This is very … nice." And it sounds like it was totally unexpected. "I should head to the library. Don't want to be lazy. Bye Ashton and Carmichael. Nice to meet you, Grace."

Carmichael shakes his head. "I'm definitely not one of those people," he replies to Ashton's words. "Like Bryce said, you can't pick your family. Nobody asked to be what they are now, whether that's race, sex, or species. I certainly don't remember stopping off during my soul-creation process and going 'y'know, do you think you could give me this massive pair of wings that would just get in the way for years? Much obliged'. He smirks.
Oh but now there are cookies! Carmichael is definitely going to snag one. Actually he's probably gonna snag a couple. Because he metabolizes like a nuclear furnace, and sugars mean energy! "Thank you, Grace," he offers. "Hope to see you again later," he notes as she heads out of the kitchen. Now, Bryce's words get a nod. "That. Yes. People depend too much on labels. Though I can understand them being afraid, I suppose. But fear can be overcome. If they want to. It can be hard, but not trying says something even worse."
But then he nods. "Cheers, mate," he offers, as Bryce makes his farewells for the night. "Sleep well."

(NOTE: I had to leave here. Any further scenage, please add here at earliest convenience. Thanks! - Grace)

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