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]

Did you want some cookies, Peter?

[perdre]

[Another beat; this time he exhales.]

I don't think I could say no.

[moralperil]

Then say yes! I have snickerdoodles and double-chocolate, think all of my carrot ginger's been claimed.

[perdre]

I like chocolate.

[moralperil]

Chocolate it is! Would you like me to drop it off somewhere?

[perdre]

I could pick it up - if that's all right. [He wouldn't want to give you extra work.]

[moralperil]

Oh, of course! I'm at room 402.