Participants:
| Scene Title | Blood Red Cookies |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Wendy moves in temporarily, and helps make cookies with Peyton for Aaron. |
| Date | December 12, 2009 |
Peyton's residence
Not even twelve hours on crutches, and Peyton is about ready to throw them through the window and see if she can javelin-spear them into Central Park across the way. Currently, the pair of crutches are leaning against the kitchen counter as she hops around trying to make some cookies. Yes, hell has frozen over: Peyton Whitney is baking.
Knock knock
Wendy was taking Peyton up on the offer that had been leveled at her before the younger woman to flee and leave her to the tender mercy's of John Logan. Two large bags, an easel and case filled with paints and brushes, the brunette with over-sized glasses is standing outside the door after being let up - the power of money - and waits.
Peyton sets aside the cookie dough — she's being creative, trying to make Christmas cookies in cute shapes with icing and sprinkles and what not — or that's the plan, if she doesn't burn them, anyway. She grabs a towel to wipe her hands and hop hop hops to the door. Dammit, why is her apartment so big? She opens it, and her eyes widen at the sheer amount of stuff Wendy has with her. Well, luckily her apartment is big. "Wendy!" she says happily enough. "Come in." She hops out of the way, grabbing the door knob for balance when she begins to lose her own.
"I'm gonna take you up on your offer. I mean, Bella came over and she offered ot let me stay with her but I figured I'd come and spend a few days with you first. You know, so that you and … Aaron can get a break" Leggings, chunky sweater, loose toque with hair stuffed underneath it. She offers a wary smile.
"That's probably good. He's not getting enough sleep, that's for sure," Peyton says with a nod. "I don't think he sleeps very well even when he's supposed to be the one sleeping. Since… you know. It was me that was in danger last time. I think he's afraid I'll fall asleep and then try to do something or whatever again." She shuts the door behind Wendy and hops back toward the kitchen, picking up her crutches where the counter divides the room. "You can throw your stuff in my parents' room, since it's not like Gillian's using it these days."
"Fuck me, your foot is pink" Wendy's dragging her stuff in and can't help but notice the cast on the other woman's foot. "The hell did you do, fall down the stairs?" She looks worried, ignoring the things about Aaron. He's more of an annoyance in all this really. "Bella gave me some drug, that will let you sleep, but not dream, or at least not as often."
"Pothole," Peyton says. Again, it's true. It's just not the whole story. She knows Wendy doesn't approve of all the things she has been up to, playing terrorist or whatever, even if it helped rescue her. "In Midtown," she adds, which will give at least a little more context to the accident. "It could have been worse." Like, she could have been shot. "I don't want to take your meds, though. She gave them to you. She's not my doctor," she says finally, heading into the kitchen to continue working on the cookies. She begins to punch shapes with the cookie cutters (fresh from the store, of course, since it's not like she owned any baking supplies). Stockings, snowmen, snowflakes. Oh, my!
"Here's where I'm going to point out that Bella is not my doctor. She's just my friend. She's just, after I explained what happened, she said to try this, and pothole?" Wendy cries bullshit unless it was in a car and there's a lamp post somewhere begging to be torn down and put out of it's mercy. "I figure too, that here, I can get your help in not taking the refrain"
"It really was a pothole," Peyton says with a laugh. "It's just I was fleeing for my life when I landed in it. Better a broken ankle than a bullet through the brain, don't you think?" She has to make light of it or she might cry. The police know Mack was taken. She can't tell where he is, or she would somehow try to give the cops a lead without letting them know how she knows. "Don't tell Aaron though. He doesn't know the details. Just the pothole part."
"God. It's business with them again" Wendy scowls, but lets it brush off as she marches down the hall dragging bags and stuff before eventually she returns to where Peyton is. "I'll doddle over it, make it pretty. You'll have original Wendy Hunter art on your ankle" She won't say anything, Peyton knows that. "Just gonna stay for a few days, then maybe hit up Bella's. John won't be over I promise. Good god, and cookies?" A hand comes to Peyton's forehead.
"It wasn't anything. Friend and I went to a club and then were heading home, when suddenly we got attacked. Well, more him than me. I guess it's someone who he knows, from his past or something… they didn't want me, told me I'd be fine if I just stayed out of it." She swallows back tears but turns to put the cookie sheet into the oven. "For Aaron. I feel bad, I left him all night last night. He was asleep when I came in this morning. He could have… the nightmares…" She shrugs. What could have happened didn't.
"Oh" The news that it wasn't gotten while doing things with them. "Damn Peyton" Cookie dough is pilfered so she can pop some in her mouth before heading to the sink to wash her hands so she can help Peyton do something domestic. Not that she herself knows how to cook either. BUt you can't fuck up cookies.
"Sorry about John, the other day, he was being a jerk. He's nursing a stitched up stomach and all that"
Peyton shrugs at the apology. It's not like she hasn't dated jerks. "There's some icing there — you want to mix up the colors? You're here for the good part — and the part I suck at. I'm no artist, even on cookies." There's red, green, blue, and yellow dye to put into the icing that's already partitioned out into four little bowls. "Any new dreams, for either of you?"
"I had it again, after you guys left and John was with me. I wandered around touching things. He woke me up though" Wendy mutters, divvying up food dye in the various bowls. There's going to be bright colors as she adds quite a few drops of each to their respective bowls before starting to stir them with spoons. "You?"
Peyton shakes her head. "No… not that I remember anyway, and we're watching one another. I wonder if it's a … dream manipulator, if he can tell that we're watching one another or not?" That's a disturbing thought. She picks up a spoon and starts to stir the green icing. "So… I suppose we should sort of try to get along." She means Aaron and Wendy. "I know what he did was fucked up, and I don't expect you to like him, but, do me a favor and try to be nice or at least civil? And yes, I'll tell him the same, I'm not saying you're the problem."
"You keep saying this every single time. Last time I saw him was in the hospital and we seemed to be pretty civil with each other" Mind you she was on good drugs that day and he was also on his best behavior. "I promise I'll stay out of his way. Not like I won't be busy doing other stuff"
That and she didn't intend to spend every waking moment here. "This Modafinil should help me. Keeps you from REM sleep or something like that. Where you dream. Dunno, maybe it'll work. Bella asked if i'd pissed off some dreamwalker, or if you guys had pissed off some dream walker. Told her I hadn't even touched one until I met Dema. I guess Dema's doing some sleep stuff, but nothing like what you and he have been having, or myself and John. Dunno. She also kicked my ass for the refrain. Apparently the Refrain has some long term stuff, does something to your brain and dreaming"
"I don't even know a dream person," Peyton says with a shrug. "That's weird though, because what I read about sleepwalking, it's not in REM sleep… so it's strange. Not that I understood it all, mind you. It's a deeper sleep stage, I guess, though, so it's weird that we remember the dreams and sleepwalk. But I guess that's why it's … well, someone's power. It's not normal." The timer dings and she opens the oven to pull out the cookies. Some of the shapes ran into one another, but they are more or less intact. The sweet smell fills the kitchen. She throws in the second sheet of cookies, after setting down the baked batch to set a bit.
"It'll keep from dreaming Peyton. Take away part of the equation, maybe it won't happen?" Best she can guess really. She doesn't question her friend the actual psychologist. "I dunno, Bella said it should help, the nightmare at least. I guess I'll see. Won't have to sleep in the same room at gloomy mc gloomster will I?" She's stirring the red, making it a vibrant color if perhaps a bit too dark.
"Well. We'll sleep in shifts. That's what he and I have been doing, but it makes for not enough sleep. Dividing by one more should help. Maybe… oh, there's an idea. We can get baby monitors — the new ones, they have video instead of just sound. If one person is awake, and in the living room, they can have both baby monitors on. Or security cameras, but I think the baby monitors will be cheaper. That way you don't have to literally be in the same room, if that bothers you." She glances over at the red icing. "That looks like blood…" she says with a laugh.
Does it look like blood? "crap, this is not like mixing paints Pey" Oh well. There's a wrinkle of her nose. "Suck it up, it's… fire engine red, not blood red. Or maybe it's mustang red. I could add some yellow and make it a blood orange red" Her knitted cap is still on, hair covering the reconstructed ear from sight. No gloves or anything to cover her other hand. "Geeze, you're like, Martha Stewart. Not bad on the cookies, now just a matter of how they taste. The baby monitor things work. I mean, when he's sleeping or you're sleeping, don't need to be in the same room" Rest of the time, wendy will just be on her best behavior and avoid him. Maybe. Or just sink into painting.
"It's fine. And I'm not Martha Stewart. The cookie dough came from a tub." Peyton takes out a spatula and begins to move the warm cookies onto a rack to cool further. "I actually liked to do this stuff when I was little, though. Of course, it was usually with the nanny, not my mom." The ding of the timer announces the second batch is done. That taken out, she turns off the oven. "I'll go buy the baby monitors then, once we're done with this."
"Cookies from a tub" That's interesting. "My brothers can cook. But I think that's because Henry's wife, made him learn. And John does to impress girls and my other brother, his wife and he go to like some sort of cooking classes together" Wendy can boil water at least. Sometimes burn it. "I know how to make it all look fancy on a plate." There, all the icing is done. "Just, kick my ass if I start heading out to get some Refrain?"
"Well, at least Aaron might be useful to you in that regard, maybe?" Peyton says, referring to the Refrain. "Yeah, I will. I don't think that stuff is a good idea, really. And not just because it's illegal or whatever, 'cause what the fuck do I care, I've done pretty much everything else that's illegal when it comes to substance. It's just… I don't know. The fact it really only influences us? That makes me wonder if whoever designed it has some ulterior motive in mind. I don't trust it." She tests one of the cookies from the first batch. "I think they're cool enough. Do whatever your crazy artist brain inspires you to do. We shall have like, Cubist or Surreal or Impressionist cookies, or something." She picks up a spoon and begins smearing green over a christmas tree cookie.
"God, Peyton, you do store some knowledge in that brain of yours!" That's a tease, as her mood lightens thanks to the camaraderie between the two. She loads up the icing into bags, pushing some for Peyton to play with. She herself though starts to layer out the tree's, going classic instead of artistic. First the green base, draw the outline to contain the icing and then fill it all in, spread it with a knife. Attention is on the cookies.
Aaron could be useful for that: escaping from one's own misery. As it happens, he just finished doing such a thing for a few people on a street corner. It was enough for a fix anyway. When he enters the apartment, the first thing he does is set his guitar case down. A light resonation sounds from the guitar as its strings vibrate ever so slightly upon being set down, even though it's in its case. Then he brushes some rainwater off of his hair and face. Once he has his boots and black long-coat off, he picks the guitar up and turns to head into the hall to his room. But then he spots the easel propped against a wall and stops. Mental inventory: Who has an easel and/or is an artist who might have one?
Peyton's head peeks around the kitchen door, and she smiles when she sees Aaron. "Hey. Wendy's going to stay with us a bit due to the freaky dream thing. I just had the idea of getting video baby monitors, so one person can watch two monitors, while awake, while the other two sleep. I'm apparently a fucking genius and didn't know it." She waves a knife with green icing on it. Luckily not the red. "And I'm making you cookies."
"The genius part applies to how you totally knew some of the styles of painting" Wendy points out. Though that Peyton's talking to Aaron does not go unnoticed and she lifts her head, looks at him, then back to filling in the designs she outlined on the cookies. "Hey" That's all she wrote. Civil,s he's being civil, and nice, and all that. Wendy's also not her usual colored self. She's dim. Little dim.
Cookies are being made and Wendy's staying for a bit. Wendy looks no worse than Peyton to Aaron's gift, though when compared to what she's usually like, that's not a good thing. "Hey," is all he offers back. He would kid himself that he's not entirely sure how he feels about the situation if he weren't certain he doesn't like it. It's far too awkward between the two to be a good thing.
Rather than depositing his guitar in his room, he sets the case next to the couch and crosses the distance to the kitchen. There, he looms in the doorway. "You're making me cookies, huh? Any special occasion?" He asks that question because he's asking himself what he did to deserve cookies. "And you know, I could sleep in the day if it would help. Not like I go anywhere."
"Does it have to be a special occasion? I just felt like making you cookies," Peyton says a little defensively. She hasn't slept at all in the past day so she's a little crabby, despite trying to do a nice thing for her roommate. She starts shaking sprinkles over the one cookie. Voila. Green icing and sprinkles. Her cookies won't be as artistic as Wendy's, that's for sure. She frowns at the creation a little, but shrugs, and reaches for a candy cane shaped one, beginning to paint it with icing. "Want to help or does that defeat the purpose of making them for you?" she asks. "Ugh. I think I need to sit and do this." She picks up the sheet of cookies and hops to the table.
"They're just cookies, not like they're laced with poison" Wendy points out, gathering everything else up to cart it to the table to save peyton hopping back. "I'm only here for a few days then I'm gonna bunk at Bella's" She doesn't know that Aaron's seeing her friend. "A friends place, for a few days there. So don't worry, I won't be in your hair too bad" She concedes to the empath.
Aaron momentarily eyes the cast and then the distant crutches. Not that he blames her for not wanting to use them. "Of course they're just cookies," he says, walking over to the table and kissing the top of Peyton's head, "So don't kill yourself over them, OK?" Then he takes a seat, not realizing the possible reaction to his words. The comment about Bella disturbs him slightly, since Wendy called Bella her friend. He thought Bella was her therapist. He frowns ever-so-slightly before shaking his head and letting it go. "I was actually thinking of napping or something, getting a bit more sleep."
"Go ahead. We'll keep an eye on you, if you sleep in the living room," Peyton tells Aaron, stretching the casted foot out to set on one of the extra chairs. "I'll go buy the monitors after we're done with the cookies and we can figure out a sleep schedule, I guess." She smiles up at Aaron, appreciating his good behavior so far. "It'll be fine." She's probably convincing herself more than them.
"I know I won't be dreaming, so I'm sure it'll be all okay and I'll head out and get the monitors for you. Tromping around with a pink foot, bullshit. I'm sure Aaron here would have your head. We don't even need to leave the apartment, I know some people" Namely her brother. "I'll just call John, he'll go get it" Wendy continues on merrily painting with icing, obliviousness to the fact that Peyton and Aaron both thought Bella was her shrink and not her friend. Wrong-o.
Aaron hooks his thumb towards Wendy when she mentions Peyton tromping around with the pink foot. "She's right, I would," he says to Peyton. "Maybe I'll shower first. Kinda chilly out there with the rain, could do to warm up a bit before I try and sleep." On that note, he gets up from the table, stealing a cook while he does so, and heads off to grab that shower.
"That's fine, if you want your brother to pick them up. That works. Have a nice shower, Aaron," Peyton says, putting her energy into icing the cookies, because that, like very little in her life, she can control. Her mind bounces around from topic to topic, things she is worried about but can't do anything about — namely that yet another one of her friends has disappeared, and her ability hasn't given her many clues as to where he is.