6th Mistake; a delicious mistake

[moralperil]

[Mahdi addresses the screen dressed in a red apron with his name embroidered on one side: a perhaps-obviously handmade gift from a friend. The apron and his face and bare arms are smudged with flour and a few streaks of chocolate.]

Um, does anyone want cookies? I made cookies.

[Around this time you may notice that pretty much every inch of the kitchen counter is covered with foil-wrapped paper plates.]

I made a few dozen.

And a pie. Maybe two pies.

Baking is how I vent stress sometimes, I guess, um...

I guarantee these cookies will make everyone feel a bit better! So let me know if you'd like a plate, I can drop it off with you. I'll probably be leaving some at the clinic too.


[OOC: Mahdi's cookies will, miraculously, give one a lingering sense of warmth and affection for a short time, due to his powers of emotional projection.]

Comments

[moralperil]

[And for that message, he has the most unimpressed look.] No cookies for guys who call me kiddo. I'm 25. [Never mind that he definitely looks more like 15.]

[curatesecrets]

[he snorts, amused, even if the grin that goes with it is a little sheepish]

Sorry. When you're pushing sixty, everyone under thirty looks like a kiddo. What should I call you instead? Name's Artie.

[moralperil]

Th - that can't be true, can it? I'm not just a kid to everyone close to sixty? [Holy displaced reaction! He's actually tearing up.] I can't believe this, even complete strangers...!

[curatesecrets]

... Whoa, hey. Take it easy, I -- I didn't mean to -- wow. I'm sorry if I upset you.

[moralperil]

[The connection actually cuts off for about five minutes before Mahdi flicks it back on, looking bleary-eyed.] Sorry, I... [Can't explain it. Not to some stranger. It just hurt, the words this older timer said happened to throw some salt in a very fresh wound.] It's silly of me to complain people don't think I'm mature if I act like that, huh? But no one's at their best right now, so, I hope you'll be understanding... [He manages a small, self-deprecating smile smile.] What kind of cookies would you like?

[curatesecrets]

No, it's okay. [the younger man's disappearance for a while sobers him, and he's genuinely sorry he upset him so much]

We've all had a long couple of days, you're right. And it's very generous of you to even offer. I'm not going to be picky. ... Where do you even get the ingredients? I thought it was hard to come by specific foods, here.

[moralperil]

Careful planning.

And uh, magic, basically. But I promise you it's all actual food!

I think what I have the most left of is snickerdoodles.

[curatesecrets]

I can hardly say no to snickerdoodles. ... Where can I find you?

[moralperil]

Room 402! Just go toward the place everyone's leaving with cookies from!

[curatesecrets]

Okay, I'll be right down. Who should I ask for?

[moralperil]

Mahdi, but I should be the one answering the door. I'll look forward to meeting you in person!

[curatesecrets]

See you soon!

[and sure enough, a few flights of stairs later, he's knocking on the door.]

Mahdi?

action;

[moralperil]

[Mahdi answers the door in his home-made red apron, still dusted a bit with flour and smudged a little with chocolate. His lavender eyes still seem a bit bleary from his little outburst earlier.]

Hi Artie! Please come in a moment.

[He users the older man into the neatly-kept apartment.]

[curatesecrets]

Sure thing! ... Nice to meet you face to face, Mahdi. ... Nice apron. [it's a genuine compliment, and he smiles, perfectly willing to overlook any evidence of his faux pas]

[moralperil]

Thank you! My friend made it for me as a birthday present. Since cooking's sort of my thing, I think. Especially baking.

So! Cookies! They're in the kitchen, this way.

[Mahdi leads him through surprisingly-neat apartment into the kitchen, which, while not a disaster area, is clearly the product of many hours of baking. It has the benefit of smelling heavenly, though.]

Would you like tea or cocoa for the road?

[curatesecrets]

How very thoughtful of them. [Artie grins] ... Ah, tea, if you don't mind! Normally I like cocoa, but ... without any whipped cream, it's not quite the same.

[moralperil]

This is only the instant stuff anyway, it's not as good. [He putters about the kitchen, going from a pot of hot water to the cabinet for a tea bag, and setting up the whole thing in a paper traveling cup.]

So, where are you from Artie?

[curatesecrets]

Never is. Homemade is always the better option ... unless we're talking about fast-food hamburgers, and then I will admit against my better judgement that those are always going to come out at the top of the list. [he smiles]

Me? I'm from South Dakota, in the United States, if you know where that is.

[moralperil]

...I actually really like fast food too. Junk food is pretty amazing. Where I'm from, no one ever thought of making food just to taste good. It's like a whole art form.

I know where the United States is! Are? I've been there! I used to live in New York City. Is that near South Dakota?

[curatesecrets]

They've actually got food laboratories devoted to it where I'm from.... Equal parts fascinating and terrifying. [he smiles, amused]. And New York's a pretty good ways away from the Dakotas, even by plane. What year was it for you when you left?

[moralperil]

Um... 2009-ish, I think! I was never very good at keeping up with those kind of things.

[curatesecrets]

[Artie's eyes widen for a moment, then he squints, curiously]

We're from the same year, then. ... Different dimensions?

[moralperil]

Maybe! The New York we were sent to for the mission, it wasn't the same one.

But we could be from the same one! No way to tell, really. My kind of ways of traveling undetected by humans.

[curatesecrets]

So you're not human? [he tilts his head, curiously] No offense meant, of course, but you look human to me.

[moralperil]

That's one way to travel undetected! But I'm not human. The cookies I made actually harness some of my power - I can make people happy with the right thoughts, basically.

My eyes are different. [Mahdi points them out, a light lavender shade rimmed with long lashes.] That's about the only thing. My shortness is actually just a personal thing.