Hiro Hamada || ヒロ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
diagnosispuberty) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kismet_loop_logs2015-04-19 09:26 pm
diagnosispuberty) wrote in kismet_loop_logs2015-04-19 09:26 pm
because this guy has a GREAT track record with fire...
Who: Sam and Hiro
Where: Their hip happening bachelor(ette) pad
When: post-April-Fool's-effects (April 20th-ish)
What: COOKIES also Hiro clarifying a few things
Warnings: Excessive amounts of cookies and sad attempts at baking
Years of watching sitcoms about people in wacky roommate situations had not adequately prepared Hiro for the reality of living with someone. All right, yes, granted, he'd never so much "watched" them as "begged Aunt Cass to stop watching them and let him change to channel to something with monsters or robots", but still -- this never happened to people on TV.
"This" being a sad, well-meant but poorly executed attempt at baking. The butter was a solid lump in the middle of the mixing bowl, the vanilla smelled amazing but tasted nasty, and most of the flour was spread over the counters and in Hiro's hair, and he was way too young to rock the grey-haired look. He may have been a certified genius, but when it came to baking, he was absolutely hopeless.
"Stupid space cookies," he muttered, glaring at the congealed mess in the mixing bowl. That was a good plan, blame Haven for his mishaps, rather than taking responsibility. That miiiight not work too well once Sam returned home, however, especially not when Hiro took into account what Dirge had said.
A witch. Sam was a witch. A witch who could apparently curse people (though Hiro wasn't too sure how much faith he should put into a conversation had between talking about robotic tongues) if she was mad enough. Would the total destruction of her (their?) kitchen be enough to make her that mad?
Hiro exhaled slowly, wiping baking soda off his face. Well, that was that. He was going to spend the rest of his life as a newt. At least until Sam needed his eyes for some secret deadly potion. A dismal end to a dismal day.
Where: Their hip happening bachelor(ette) pad
When: post-April-Fool's-effects (April 20th-ish)
What: COOKIES also Hiro clarifying a few things
Warnings: Excessive amounts of cookies and sad attempts at baking
Years of watching sitcoms about people in wacky roommate situations had not adequately prepared Hiro for the reality of living with someone. All right, yes, granted, he'd never so much "watched" them as "begged Aunt Cass to stop watching them and let him change to channel to something with monsters or robots", but still -- this never happened to people on TV.
"This" being a sad, well-meant but poorly executed attempt at baking. The butter was a solid lump in the middle of the mixing bowl, the vanilla smelled amazing but tasted nasty, and most of the flour was spread over the counters and in Hiro's hair, and he was way too young to rock the grey-haired look. He may have been a certified genius, but when it came to baking, he was absolutely hopeless.
"Stupid space cookies," he muttered, glaring at the congealed mess in the mixing bowl. That was a good plan, blame Haven for his mishaps, rather than taking responsibility. That miiiight not work too well once Sam returned home, however, especially not when Hiro took into account what Dirge had said.
A witch. Sam was a witch. A witch who could apparently curse people (though Hiro wasn't too sure how much faith he should put into a conversation had between talking about robotic tongues) if she was mad enough. Would the total destruction of her (their?) kitchen be enough to make her that mad?
Hiro exhaled slowly, wiping baking soda off his face. Well, that was that. He was going to spend the rest of his life as a newt. At least until Sam needed his eyes for some secret deadly potion. A dismal end to a dismal day.
no subject
And will say so, kicking his feet lightly against the cabinets once more. "Well, if you ever want help with figuring out how to do all that in a less...painful way..."
no subject
"What help's on the table, I'm happy to take." She slid as close as she could without tipping sideways into the sink, reaching over to ruffle Hiro's hair. "It's just, like I said, a tricky bit of business. I never looked much into laser removal since I never thought I'd be able to afford it, so I know like the barest broad strokes. Black and blue inks go out easiest, but green and yellow are the hardest to get rid of. White ink? UV ink? I haven't heard anything at all. Dermabrasion is, alas, the surest shot."
The adept offered a wry little grin. "Once upon a time, I would've been bartering for it. Now, it's more like 'apologizing profusely to Paian for taking up his time,' when the time comes. I guess." She shrugged.