(no subject)

[abjurer]

Who: Anyone and everyone!
What: A feast of pancakes in honour of Shrove Tuesday.
When: Tuesday March 25th
Where: House 51
Summary: Truly a feast day second only to Christmas!
Rating: PG/PG-13 for language if someone gets burned on the stove or hit by exploding magical pancake batter.

He's got a bit more of an idea about what to expect this year at least, but the kitchen still looks like a disaster area. There's milk and eggs and flour in large quantities, as well as oil for cooking, and a selection of sweet and savory treats to go with the pancakes. He's pretty fond of the bacon ones personally.



[OOC: Max's announcement post here ]

Comments

[savedtheworld]

[House 51 is right across the lane from House 56, and Aang fires it's way past due time to get to know his neighbors. And this invitation seems like the perfect opportunity!

After spreading the word to any of his housemates he can get a hold of, the teenage monk will be heading on over. He'll be quick to make his own mess as he experiments with plenty of different types of fruit-flavored pancakes, trying to channel his knowledge of making fruit pies into it.

And he has the time of his life while doing it. The monk broadly grins, with hints of each ingredient messing up his face, while seemingly moving syrup and any other liquidy ingredients through the air as if using some kind of magic.]

No one told me pancake-bending would be this much fun!

[snapturtle]

[Passing by rather unsuspectingly, B'Elanna is suddenly assaulted by flying batter and syrup. The sticky stuff splattering on her face and the front of her uniform.]

... Perhaps you should tone down your... "pancake-bending". Its becoming a hazard.

[She tries to keep the annoyance out of her voice but doesn't quite succeed.]

[savedtheworld]

[He looks over with a sheepish smile.]

Sorry! I just got a little out of hand. [He will try to bend everything that's liquid-y out of her at least.]

[250mhzwabl]

[It is not fair to go this long being neighbours with people while being completely ignorant of how extremely cool they are. And how deeply non-threatening a teenager with a head tattoo can be! Cultural differences, man.

Ok, so maybe Jack's a little tranced-out watching lava lamp pancake batter. He's only been chinhandsing at the display for minutes, now, before he finally speaks up as a slip of batter twists sinuously in midair, like an eel underwater.]

Man, do you suppose you could . . . cook it like that, too?

[snapturtle]

[Pancakes. This was one of her weaknesses. A certain half Klingon comes to the house with bananas in tow.

She doesn't actually know HOW to make pancakes, but she knows she likes bananas in them.

So here she is, dumping a couple bunches of bananas in a convenient place. This is her contribution.]

[abjurer]

[He has a batch of pancakes when she approaches to drop off the bananas, and holds out a plate to her.]

How hungry are you?

[snapturtle]

[She made sure she had room for these so...]

Enough to eat a targ.

[A little smirk playing on her lips as she reaches for the plate.]

[complicatedliar]

[Loki gives the bananas a curious look.]

I'd no idea those were involved in pancakes. There weren't any last year.

[snapturtle]

[Oh hey... it's tool guy.]

Really? My grandmother use to make me banana pancakes when I was a child.

[thelittlemacthatcould]

[Open invitations make for a happy Mac and towards the end of a long jog, sweat-drenched, panting softly, and more than a little hungry, he takes a detour and swings by House 51. If one knows and adores their retro Nintendo games, the Bronxite might look just a little too familiar. But even if one doesn't, Mac might make for a curious sight given that he's of a height that has him often and easily mistaken for a young kid but has the muscles of a grown man.

God, he feels like he hasn't had fluffy pancakes in long enough and there's something very reassuring about stepping into a kitchen that looks just about how he imagines his would if he attempted making them himself. He samples a bacon pancake first, figuring it's got some protein, and ends up wolfing it down appreciatively like he hasn't seen a crumb of food in a week.

Eventually he goes up to whoever is manning the stove or vigorously blending batter with a grin on his face.]

Hey, if you got some protein powder layin' around, think we could toss some in?

[Sure, he likes his shakes, but it would be nice having a mean little stack of muscle-building pancakes!]

[250mhzwabl]

Protein powder? I . . . maybe?

[After Simon had left, Sam had given them a few canisters of the stuff, and Jack knows they don't go through it that quickly. He puts down his whisk and reaches up to open a cabinet, fishing around past assorted Antivan dry goods in jars and coming up with a plastic canister. He squints at the label uncertainly, then hands it over with an uncertain grin, not sure this is what the guy's looking for but offering anyway.]

Chocolate chip cookie dough flavour. Which . . . is a thing, apparently?

[thelittlemacthatcould]

All right!

[He turns the tub in his hands, glossing over the ingredients. He trusts there aren't any contaminants or unhealthy fillers (then again, could he identify them if he saw them?) and doesn't tend to fret too much about the quality of what goes in him unless a match is around the corner. Burgers are always his kryptonite, though.]

Aw man, Doc woulda loved this. [He muses aloud, setting the canister onto the table and unscrewing the lid, looking up at Jack appreciatively after a moment.] How's half a scoop?

[abjurer]

[Max spends most of his time by the stove, making pancakes as fast as he can for the various guests. Canadian pancakes because Eugene would be offended if he didn't, and proper pancakes for the other Brits in the house. Because he had to uphold some standards.

He does relinquish the stove to other experimentation though, wolfing down bacon pancakes and lemon and sugar pancakes with obvious delight. There is something terribly comforting about it.]

[thelittlemacthatcould]

[There's a part of him that thinks he shouldn't be disturbing someone working very hard on keeping guests fed, but he just can't leave without having said thanks at some point. So here he is, making his way to Max while taking a bite out of another bacon pancake on his plate. Of all of them he enjoys these the most.]

Hello, sir, jus' wanted to thank you an' all for sendin' out the invite and whippin' up some real great stuff.

[abjurer]

[Max deftly flips a pancake, turning it to the other side to cook.]

No problem. It's good to see people are enjoying themselves so much!

[complicatedliar]

[Loki's hanging around, being in the way a little, occasionally poking at the batter.]

Has it been a year already? How the time does fly.

[sitalion]

[The table of pancakes seems quiet at first. While one is looking over what's available, a sea lion pokes his head over the table next to them.]

Pancakes!

[250mhzwabl]

JESUS-!

[Yes, that's the latest pancake-peruser starting backward and almost falling over a chair, catching himsef on it with a loud clatter and spinning it between them on instinct. Because bloody hell, talking sea mammal what.]

[complicatedliar]

[Has it been over a year already? Yes, that sounds right. Though everything is a bit odd, time-wise, since he's been home and back. But yes, it really has been over a year since he and Rogue had come together, so secretly then. While he's not entirely enthused about pancakes, Loki goes anyway, on the principle of the thing. It will feel nice to redo this odd mortal holiday in a much happier frame of mind, because he is no longer a secret.

He and Rogue arrive at the little celebration together, holding hands. Even he's a bit surprised at how happy that makes him feel. Perhaps some things are nicer when they're not secrets. Very, very rare things.

Loki spends quite a bit of his time in the kitchen, benignly being in the way and maybe helping with the cooking or dishes a bit. After all, actually eating the pancakes isn't something that excites him that much. But he might try to sneak a few pranks into the pancake batter, illusions to change hair color or make a person breathe fire.

He will be nibbling at pancakes now and then, normally not far from Rogue.]

The breathing fire prank sounds good. XD

[sitalion]

[And there's a sea lion, feverishly looking over the table, trying to decide which pancakes to try next. Don't mind him, he's always energetic like that.]

Wow! So many different-a kinds of-a pancakes! Which-a one do I try-a next?

[splashpuppy]

[It takes Hajime a bit of time to get to find the house, but he's at least starting to get the hang of the village. Bu he gets there and knocks on the door.]

Hi!

[antivanleather]

[The kitchen is full of people and the smell of flatcakes. Between the few moments it takes him to make certain nothing in the kitchen is deadly and that all the trap wires on the windows have been unwound so no one stumbles into them and gets killed, Zev is happy to help in the preparation and appreciation of pancakes. He plies them high, mixes up syrups of varying flavors, and even starts slicing up fanciful trays of fruit for people to enjoy. All while singing under his breath or at full belt if someone is kind enough to provide this elf with Coffee.

If asked, he will take the stove and prepare a large batch of Antivan Drinking chocolate, flaming brandy and all.]

[thebellthatbinds]

[Sabriel had gotten up that morning expecting the house to be it's usual mix of active and mellow but as soon as she steps out of her room the noise from the kitchen proves her wrong.

Pancakes. Pancakes and flour and sugar everywhere.

She stood at the doorway staring in surprise for a moment before giving a shrug and joining in the organized chaos with a bittersweet smile. If anyone wants some slightly healthier (and maybe sometimes a little burnt but hey, she's learning) pancakes with fruit and a light dusting of icing sugar then she'll make them. They might also be in the shape of a bunny. Call it Sabriel's subtle way of honoring an old, dear friend.

When she's all pancaked out and covered in as much flour as the men of House 51 she'll prepare a good strong pot of tea for anyone who needs something a little bitter and bold after so much sweetness.]

[z_jay]

[Eugene was pointedly avoiding the mess that was the kitchen. Currently. He'd venture in there when he had the gumption, but for the moment he just wanted to enjoy the results of all the labor that he'd likely have to give later. To clean the place, at least. It was a rare occurrence that anyone got such a privilege to utterly destroy the kitchen's cleanliness, but this... this was for a good cause.

It had been so long since he'd been able to enjoy pancakes. Especially pancakes he didn't have to make. Even if he was a messy cook, Eugene had to concede that Max had a way with pancakes, at least. And he was helping himself to another portion, with a hefty dose of syrup. It was tradition-- not really, but he'd claim it was, anyway.]

[250mhzwabl]

[Jack has set himself up with an impressive variety platter of all sorts of pancakes, traditional to great fluffy north american to buttery-thin little blini festooned with sour cream and little flecks of chive and caviare. He plunks down next to Eugene with a quick kiss to his cheek, already reaching for his silverware.]

I've decided. I'm not going to stop eating these until I am physically incapable of doing so.