entrancelogs | angels in the architecture

Who: Balthazar and open!
Where: The library, the kitchen, and assorted other mansion locations.
When: Monday
Rating: Probably PG?
Summary: Balthazar is in need of distraction. I have two scenarios here, but feel free to bump into him in the halls in between locations, if you're so inclined. I'm game for other ideas, too.

He finds it somewhat vexing how difficult the library is to locate on any given day. He's found it once before, although he wasn't especially motivated to peruse the contents then. Why bother, when he could ask his closet for any book he has in mind?

The flaw in this theory, Balthazar eventually realizes, is there are books out there he doesn't know he wants. Books about art history, for example. Having latched onto the idea of setting up a miniature gallery in his rooms, he's determined to follow through, but he needs more information. Examples. Ideas.

After a couple hours of wandering the halls, he finally finds the place and ducks inside with a grumble of relief. Now, of course, the problem is how to find what he's looking for within the library itself. No one ever taught him the Dewey Decimal System, if indeed that's even how the place is organized. But he has all the time in the world, so he'll begin at the beginning and wind his way through the stacks for as long as it takes.

When he began walking again, he wasn't aware he was headed for the kitchen, but once he arrives there he decides to stay and experiment. Angels don't need to eat, but Balthazar has developed a taste for one or two things aside from alcoholic drinks. Certain sweets. Well-brewed tea. Vegetarian dishes spiked with fiery sauces and spice. There's a cookbook open on the counter, possibly left behind by someone else, and he finds himself thumbing through it as the kettle heats. It's mostly baked desserts, and he's about to lose interest when one page catches his eye.

'Fried cheesecake bites'. Fried cheesecake? Fried cheesecake. It sounds like the unholy offspring of Sara Lee and a county fair funnel cake vendor.

He's not sure if he'll like it himself, but he's willing to bet Death would. Assuming he could somehow pull off the dish. After the recent TV land fiasco, it might be smart to make nice.

It can't hurt to try, anyway. He scans the ingredients list with a frown and goes for the refrigerator.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That's a fair point." He's amused. John seems impressively energetic, in person.

"Can you? I'm looking at sweets mostly, just now. Do you make cookies or cakes or anything?" He pauses and scans the fridge again. "Speaking of drinks, there's lemonade and cola in here, if you want some. Or I've been making tea."

Of course he wants sweets. John rolls his eyes, almost wondering if his dad is, like, somehow looking down on him and laughing as his prankster's gambit fills up.

"I can do cakes. My dad looooved baking. I got kinda pissy about it as I got older, but I can still remember how to use a mix, at least." Doing stuff from scratch was a little harder, but he could probably manage if he got a recipe. John hops down from the counter again and reaches into a cupboard, pulling out a box. "This is a mix, if you haven't seen one. Looks like it's chocolate, but you can do other flavors too." He sets the box on the counter and shrugs. "What did you want in particular?"

It's not so much that Balthazar wants sweets, as that everyone he knows who he'd give food to would want sweets. Balthazar mostly survives on intoxicating liquids. "I was looking at cheesecake recipes, but chocolate could be good, too. My brother's fond of it. Whatever you think would be simplest to start with?"

"Cheesecake is doable. It's less of a mix thing, though, and you have to put it in the fridge and stuff." John wiggles the box he has. "Chocolate would be easier and faster, for your first time."

Don't wink, John, he's an angel, that's inappro-- oh God, you already winked, GOD.

"Anyway! This stuff is probably a little different since it's not the brand my dad usually bought." He's so glad the mansion agreed that Betty Crocker can go fuck right off. "But ummm, let's see."

John reads off the ingredients and their measurements and gathers the necessary supplies with Balthazar's help. Soon, he's even opening the box! They are making great progress. And then John realizes the box says Devil's food and sputters a little, dropping it.

"Uh-- um." He picks it up again, coughing in embarrassment. "So, uh, Devil's food is an okay flavor, right? It won't. Um. It won't kill you for some reason? Or like, summon Lucifer in here to, uh, I don't know, pitchfork us? He doesn't seem like a pitchfork kinda guy but I guess I haven't talked to him much. I just don't want you to get in trouble, I guess!" Then again, he could be in trouble too, if the gay stuff comes back to haunt him in the form of divine retribution by cake. He's pretty sure that'd be poetic somehow.

His eyebrows go up at the wink, and he stifles a laugh. "Not cherry...pie?"

You asked for that, John.

Gamely, he gathers the ingredients and plugs in an electric mixer. He hasn't actually noticed that it's Devil's food cake until the younger man reacts. And then he really does laugh. "Oh...that's beautifully ironic, actually. It's all right, I've eaten devilled eggs and survived, I think I can manage it."

He may have to set aside a couple pieces for Lucifer, though. Balthazar is the best brother. He pats John on the back lightly, grinning, and grabs the measuring cup with his other hand. "We'll have to make the frosting too, I assume?" Unless cake just automatically grows its own frosting and no one told him.

"Oh, don't say that, I'll start singing, hehehe." Dave would be proud of him since that's probably ironic, but it'd be embarrassing.

"Phew, okay." John relaxes considerably, even as he blushes for feeling silly. He's really gotta get the whole rundown on how angels work, someday. "Yeah, or we can grab a can if we're feeling lazy. Fresh frosting is better, though."

John walks them through the steps for the batter and soon they've got it in to bake. Once that's done, frosting is next. "Chocolate frosting, you think?"

"Can you carry a tune? I can't. Not in this vessel, anyway." In trueform, all angels can sing, after a fashion. He doubts the windows and electrical equipment could stand up to the sound waves.

"I want to make it, if you can teach me how. I'm sure it's better fresh." He nods, helping with the mixture however he's told. Once the cake's in the oven, he crouches to peer through the window curiously. John may have to remind him it doesn't cook that fast.

"Mn? Oh, yes! Definitely chocolate!"

"I'm pretty good. I joined the glee club here, but uh. I dunno if that's still a thing or not." He should probably set an actual, like, time for a meeting or something.

He raises an eyebrow at the 'vessel' thing. "So you're, like, possessing somebody?" Maybe that's not the nicest way to say it, but it's what he immediately thinks of. And well. He likes ghosts a lot. A lot. So this isn't really something he sees as a BAD thing. In fact, he's just casually gathering the frosting ingredients and a clean bowl, as if possession is a normal dessert-making sort of discussion.

"I didn't know there was a glee club. Sounds downright wholesome, especially for this place. Did you ever perform?" Just because he can't sing doesn't mean he dislikes music, after all.

Grimacing at the question, Balthazar makes a wobbly gesture with one hand. "Not in the sense a demon would, but I suppose to the vessel that's a matter of semantics. Angels inhabit every cell of their vessel. The man whose body I'm in isn't really conscious. He may perceive some of this as a dream, and some sensations carry over. With ghosts and demons, their meatsuits are aware of nearly everything that happens to them, and everything they do. Also, I had to ask his permission first. Rules."

He's always a bit leery of having this discussion with humans, but John seems to be taking it well so far, and that's encouraging.

angels in the architecture

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omg this got long i'm sorry

I loled.

gud.

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