Lemon poppy seed, one of Allison's favorites. A whole tray tucked next to blueberry, cranberry, and double dark chocolate for mix and match breakfasts. That's exactly why she'd baked them, something- something nice. Something light. Something a little healthy. She's working on a crumbled coating for a coffee cake, something to be had with tea even if Reginald doesn't want food or can't have it- protocol must be followed.
The one thing she's purged from her databank and from the kitchen in it's entirety is oatmeal. Not a single oatmeal raisin cookie, not a single oat-filled muffin or loaf of bread or pastry.
Not that it matters when a tray is popped up and off the table with a clatter, her usual hypervigilance regarding the children lost in the recursive, broken bird swirling of her anxieties and fears. Her head turns, eyes flickering over Pixie who isn't anywhere near the pastry, curled up on a windowsill to soak up the day's warmth, then to Five. "...Be careful where you teleport, Five."
She's not upset, she isn't meant to get upset. She's- disappointed as she sets the bowl aside and gracefully lowers herself to the ground, gathering up the mess.
no subject
The one thing she's purged from her databank and from the kitchen in it's entirety is oatmeal. Not a single oatmeal raisin cookie, not a single oat-filled muffin or loaf of bread or pastry.
Not that it matters when a tray is popped up and off the table with a clatter, her usual hypervigilance regarding the children lost in the recursive, broken bird swirling of her anxieties and fears. Her head turns, eyes flickering over Pixie who isn't anywhere near the pastry, curled up on a windowsill to soak up the day's warmth, then to Five. "...Be careful where you teleport, Five."
She's not upset, she isn't meant to get upset. She's- disappointed as she sets the bowl aside and gracefully lowers herself to the ground, gathering up the mess.