Due to deciding its already spring when it is NOT, Mabelle is standing closer to the stove so she will not freeze. Fingers wiggling as people enter the room welcoming them, "Hello! Hello! You're so pretty! A shame! Do wear an apron!", she points at the set ups on the kitchen table.

"Happy Birthday Mabelle!" What a great day to dirty Deva's brand new leathers. They're even a color! Rolling up her sleeves and hanging her jacket somewhere where it probably won't be set on fire in the baking process, she finds herself a station with a bottle of cider. It's kind of a struggle getting the apron on and tied, but she's trying.

(OOC)The scene set/room mood is now set to: With spring around the corner, the Laurent kitchen has been set with flowers and cakes on every free surface, few bottles of expensive meads, ciders and wine are circulated by the staff. The kitchen's island is set with several working stations, each containing flour, honey, a single recipe, chocolate and other forms of decorations, as well as an apron that is the only armor you will need tonight. Hopefully.

(OOC)The scene set/room mood is now set to: With spring around the corner, the Laurent kitchen has been set with flowers and cakes on every free surface, few bottles of expensive meads, ciders and wine are circulated by the staff. The kitchen's island is set with several working stations, each containing flour, honey, a single recipe, chocolate and other forms of decorations, as well as an apron that is the only armor you will need tonight. Hopefully.

Thankfully, Zara's pretty gown is aeterna, so worst case scenario, all of the mess won't stick. Nonetheless she does fetch herself an apron as she ventures toward her side of the L shaped nook. "Happy birthday, Mabelle." She's sure to say as she passes her friend, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of the coming challenge.

Someone, somewhere, had made a comment about being fashionably late, and everyone in the world seemed to take it to heart. Not Patrizio - the Pravusi prince is /precisely/ on time, and not by the machinations of his brigade of centurions that follow him everywhere. For once, though, his journal is not seemingly present, but he is, and there's a broad grin when he's looking around, the faint dart of his jade eyes this way and that a bit apprehensively about the activity to take place. But he does, on coming in, draw in to greet the birthday girl herself. "My lady," he says with warmth (and a second wary look at the aprons and the setups. "A very happy birthday to you. Are you /sure/ this is a wise idea, letting many of us bake?"

With a little bellowing from the next few rooms over, Cirroch finally makes his way to the kitchen. Trying to use a more appropriate inside voice. "Got a little lost in there. Happy cycle Lady Mabelle."


The General is here, but she seems content to let others bake.

She stands off in the corner with her hood down and a cup of tea in her hands. She looks as if she's been up for days. For now, she remains apart and watching, her arsenal of weapons left at the door respectfully. She still wears her black leathers, as is her way, and they may help her blend into the shadows where she rests.

Sippin' on tea.



Ryhalt enters the Laurent kitchen with a smile. Seeing Mabelle's choice of dress he chuckles, even if she's trying to pretend she isn't cold by standing next to the stove. "Happy Birthday, Lady Mabelle. Do we get bonus points if we barely avoid burning the kitchen down?"

Drake is here to eat, and send well wishes, and doesn't consider himself a great cook. But.... people are cooking. Drake also apparently has a broken hand, so he's not being too enthusiastic about all this, but he does say, "I can at least assist someone who knows how to bake. Though I guess I didn't do too badly on cookies, I hear a cake is a harder challenge."

Mabelle grins at Deva as she puts on her apron, "That's the spirit!" as she invites people to take plushies from the chest, "Do not forget your stress cake, you will need it once this is done", she is cackling at the guests and thanks Zara for something handed to her. "Its a horrible idea!", she assures Patrizio, "That is what's so grand about it!". Her fingers wiggle to Piccola and Cirroch, "Hello hello! Thank you! Find your stations we will begin soon!. Eyeing Ryhalt, Mabelle grins to him, "You get extra points if you prove this place isnt flammable! Though I recall you did well last time, Duke Farshaw, so did you, Drake"

Cristoph is few minutes late to the party being held in his own home, slipping into the kitchens through the use of a servant's door along the back. He's escorting someone along with him, Tyche. A low whisper is offered as they integrate in with the rest of the guests. He draws them toward Mabelle, where he touches his cousin's arm and hands over something that she can inspect and then likely pass to her assistant. "Happy Birthday!" he says cheerfully. He's already rolled up the sleeves of his silk shirt, prepared to get messy. "Hello!" a general greeting for various familiar faces.

Amari breezes in, takes stock of the room and those already in attendance and with a smile for her fellow cake bakers, she meanders. She's not about to take the first open working stations, but goes around the trestle table until she's nearer the hearth, and Mabelle. There's a line, so she waits her turn. When she's nearer the front, she greets the Laurent simply, "Lady Mabelle." From behind her back she produces a folded square of dark blue fabric that she holds out to her. "Happy birthday, and thank you again for stabbing that fellow. It was much appreciated."

Sweeping into the kitchen with a wide eyed excitement, Dycard runs a hand through his hair to brush stray locks from his brow before beginning to peel his gloves off and tucking them into his belt and then glancing about to regard those guests who had already arrived, offering nods or slightly deeper inclinations of his head where appropriate before catching sight of Mabelle in her dress and -almost- bursting out laughing. He glided toward her to offer a bow and a wide grin, "You look so lovely in sharkskin, my lady, i'm at your feet - only at your feet, I assure you. Happy birthday." Turning and making to allow for others to greet her, he padded down the length of the table to occupy a station and remove his coat, tucking it underneath and replacing it with an apron.

It was with a mixture of dread and anticipation that Valerian arrived, the young Kennex Lord moving into the kitchen clutching to his chest his satchel filled with little odds and ends. As he sees so many others having arrived for the cake therapy his eyes widen slightly and there is a sense of alarm in the dark depths of his gaze. Valerian's lower lip quickly drawn between his lips to be nibbled on as he takes a breath and ventures deeper into the kitchen.

"Happiest of birthdays, Lady Mabelle!" Tyche joins the chorus of wishes as Cristoph leads them to the birthday girl, a smile in place. She moves with Cris, plucking up the protective gear along the way. She holds her own aloft, looking at it almost quizzically. She turns it, twists it, furrows her brow at it - and it doesn't magically change into some beautiful piece of adornment to her gown. A small sigh, and she slips the strap over her head, hands grabbing the ties and sliding them back around her waist, fingers deftly tying a bow. "Cris, I think there is merit to what Prince Patrizio says. If your house gets destroyed by us hapless bakers, that would be some birthday gift to your cousin."


"Fine."

Piccola rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated breath. She finds a table to rest her cup of tea on, and then takes one of the several stations. "It's been years since I've baked a cake," she mutters to no one in particular. "Too sweet, too -- " She makes a disgusted face. " -- ugh."

Regardless, competition is competition.



A smirk to Mabelle at her agreeing about it being horrible, but that's certainly not enough to convince Patrizio that he should be desisting from it. NO, there's enough time for him to be considering the adventure of the thing and... a smile and an inclination of his head to Cirroch in greeting. "I see that you're going to take a swing at this too, my lord," he says playfully, even as he's likewise smiling to Tyche as she's arriving with Cristoph. "I'd be wary about suggestions of what I might be warning about," he replies with a laugh. "At least I'm not baking with the heat of things that I've at my disposal in other fields, mmm?"

"I have been preparing for this my whole-- afternoon," Deva dodges there at the last second. She chugs some of the cider until it's time to start, leaning a hip casually against the counter.

"Well, I spent all morning trying to have some of my sister's staff teach me to bake a cheesecake... and I don't think any of the ingredients they mentioned are here," Dycard offered across the way to Deva, shrugging and flashing a sheepish grin, "I suppose i'll just imitate everyone else and hope I do it better."

Mabelle grins at Cristoph being fashionable late to his own kitchen, but her attention is to that apron she was just handed, laughing out as she tries it on, but not keeps it on, because of her gown, "Thank you Amari", she wink at Dycard, "Always? You might regret that!".

Mabelle then announces, "Well here is the thing, are you ready? Each station has all the ingredients you need and a recipe. All you need to do is follow it. Simple. You will be judged on technic, flavor and how yummy it looks at the end! Are you ready?! I think the first step there is seperating the eggs into yolk and the other thing", hey she can eat, no one said she needs to know how to bake.

Cirroch nods to Patrizio, "Baking I have learned very small of it this afternoon. We'll see how much of it stuck...Or if I'll be seeking something at the bottom of a bottle instead." Turning to Piccola, "You can share my table, we can use it as a battlement if anyone decides to toss their cakes at us"

Ryhalt flashes Mabelle an ornery grin. "Sounds like permission to try to set a fire." He rubs his hands together in delight as he moves over to where the aprons are. He dons one, ready for the baking disaster to come. Seeing Cristoph, he grins at his fellow Duke. "If we both survive this, we'll get to talk soon."

Piccola checked dexterity + legerdemain at difficulty 20, rolling 7 lower.

Ryhalt checked dexterity + manipulation at difficulty 20, rolling 45 higher.

Dycard checked dexterity + manipulation at difficulty 20, rolling 21 higher.

Deva checked dexterity + legerdemain at difficulty 20, rolling 3 higher.

Cirroch checked dexterity + manipulation at difficulty 20, rolling 24 higher.

The apron Mabelle's gifted certainly captures Zara's attention, and there's just the briefest lift of her lips at the pun emblazoned on the fabric in shiny thread. "Isn't that a beeguiling piece." She can't help but comment, though hushes up quickly when the announcement starts.

Valerian checked luck + legerdemain at difficulty 20, rolling 5 lower.

Drake checked dexterity + manipulation at difficulty 20, rolling 6 higher.

Zara checked luck + manipulation at difficulty 20, rolling 23 higher.

Amari checked dexterity + manipulation at difficulty 20, rolling 17 higher.

Patrizio checked dexterity + manipulation at difficulty 20, rolling 2 lower.

Cristoph checked dexterity + manipulation at difficulty 20, rolling 16 higher.

Drake did indeed claim not to know what he was doing, but at least he didn't drop the egg on the floor. He's just trying to figure out how the instructions work, and sometimes his impatience and general reading skills cause him to miss steps.

"Should I?" Cristoph returns to Patrizio with a quick smile as he moves to one of the stations. "I don't know, would Marquess Inverno teasingly lead me astray?" he wonders, turning that look onto Tyche next as they settle in. He spots Deva across the way, lifting his hand and waving! "Did he make it back in one piece? Has he handed in his notice?" Oh, there are instructions. He clears his throat and tries to pay attention. But while he's listening, he hears another voice. And it causes him to twist around mid-listening to Mabelle. "Duke Ryhalt, we are ships in the night! I would love to speak with you, please. Though uh-" uh oh, what were the instructions. He grabs the recipe and... wel, how hard can it be?

Tyche checked dexterity + legerdemain at difficulty 20, rolling 10 higher.

As things begin Valerian carefully sets down his satchel only to promptly take out a book on baking laying it out to the side not realizing the disater waiting on the horizon for him. The young man setting to work following those instructions from Mabelle and incorporating some from the book, likely the first mistake of many to be made that night in his attempt at not merly peopling but also..baking.

"You're quite welcome, I hope you get some use out of it." Amari replies with a broad smile, but she needs an apron of her own, or she won't look like she's at all serious about baking. With Cristoph nearby, she bows her head to her duke politely and intones a friendly but formal, "My lord." Hint of a smile there, and she's off to the table. An apron is nabbed and tied on without any struggles. She flaps it out and smooths it down until it looks perfectly in order, then she's ready to do a culinary crime.


Piccola follows the instructions as best she can.

She ends up with a batter that is more like a starchy mess. Too much flour, definitely. She frowns, knowing that this just doesn't seem right, but shrugs her shoulders and keeps to herself about it. So long as she doesn't have to taste it, who cares?

Someone //else// can care.



"Now I want cheesecake!" Deva sighs at Dycard from her station, shaking her head in severe disappointment. Then she gets to work, or tries. At least she doesn't burn anything yet. "Yes, and no. He's back, and he wants you to adopt him," she calls out to Cristoph. "That or he's going to cause a ruckus and demand payment because your staff hit him with pillows." This whole 'baking' thing is just -barely- managed.

Squinting at the recipe, Dycard nods to himself before beginning to murmur under his breath either to himself, or perhaps trying to coax the eggs into listening. "Come on you damned things, yolks only, if you'd kindle..." he murmured, glancing up and down the table, "I think Duke Laurent is at an advantage - they're his eggs, they're more apt to listen to him."

Ryhalt nods to Cristoph in agreement. "So much going on, but we'll find time." Set up at his station, he gives the eggs a doubtful look. He just cracks his eggs on the counter with reckless abandon before slowly pouring out the contents, splitting the bits with surprising ease. Maybe he missed his calling?

Cirroch looks at the recipe and his prepration of some cooking lessons earlier seem to have paid off. The eggs are easily separated, then folded into the flour, though he seems to be wearing more of the flour than what made its way into the bowl. In the process he's getting annoyed at the bowl.

So Zara's not exactly known for her baking but the first step seems simple enough and she gives it all her concentration. Separation of the yolk from the whites - sans gloves of course. It's more her luck than her nimbleness that aids her in the endeavor but she manages well enough. "Ah-ha." She seems proud of her work, only glancing up to see how well the duke of the house is doing.

Mabelle tightens the new apron around her waist as she notices what's going on in the kitchen, "Its just egg yolks, how bad can it be?", she considers trying and then she looks at some of the messes made and remains by the stove, holding her drink. Hearing Deva, Mabelle signals one of the servers to hand her some cake while she works on her... cake. "There you go!", she claps her hands for the contestants, "I will warn you! Duke Farshaw looks innocent but he came in second last time, he might be out for revenge. Look at him!", Mabelle circles around the Island, peeking over Patrizio's shoulder and then over Dycard, Cirroch and Piccola, "Not bad, Zara!"

To look at him... well, one would /know/ that Patrizio's not been much about the baking end of things. That he's working, beating at the ingredients - yes, with a recipe - there's an overeagerness for him to actually produce something that has him making much more of a mess, and much more indeed beating the batter than is probably necessary for the final product...

"I would never lead you astray," Tyche makes this promise to Cristoph, her smile wide and trustworthy. TRUST ME, it says! She slips a hand past him to pluck up the instructions, her gaze skirting over them. "I might be able to do this," she laughs, looking up to Patrizio for a moment, "And then we won't need any of the heat you're suggesting." When Ryhalt is brought to her attention, she lifts a hand to wave, "Duke Ryhalt! You've not been tricked any further by the birthday girl, have you?" And Deva, too, is greeted with a smile and a wave. But there are rules and guidelines for this baking, so she glances back down. "Here we go..." She begins to mix, laughing at her own successes. "This looks... edible? So far!"


As Mabelle passes by, Piccola says sidelong to her, "Happy birthday, m'lady." Politely, quietly, and charmingly. That is all.



It probably is for the best that Deva eat cake instead of try with all her might to make a good one. She's busy scooping bites of the cake, courtesy of Mabelle's servers. "This is really good! Why are we making even MORE cake? Is this secretly a pitch to open a community bakery? Are we all being conned?" Tyche's wave is returned with a waggle of her spoon.

"If only that were the case with everything," Cristoph remarks to Dycard as he tries to follow the directions of this recipe. It seems to be going fine! If a little messily. "I paid that man very handsomely in beer! I would hope he doesn't start demanding more payment!" he calls back to Deva as they discuss the Adventures of Jasper. He leans out of his spot to see exactly what Tyche is doing. Is it the same as him? Can he copy her?

Mabelle smiles easily to Piccola, "Thank you, General", she looks at her bowl, "Keep on adding the ingredients, we all know the hard part is the decor or I wont eat it!", she informs the entire room and encourages them to go on following the recipe. She chuckles at Deva then, "Well my first birthday party was a pie throwing contest in the main hall. I think Cristoph is grateful this one is in a controlled enviorment. Besides, I like cake", she eyes Tyche, "Not bad! Add flour", before murmuring to Deva, "This is cake therapy!"


*** Deva has called for an opposing check with Cristoph. ***
Deva checks dexterity and athletics at easy. Deva is successful.
Cristoph checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Critical Success! Cristoph is spectacularly successful.
*** Cristoph is the winner. ***

"Yeah, you pay him more than me, that's the problem!" Deva throws an egg shell through the air and it does NOT hit Cristoph in the head despite her best efforts. It might land in someone else's cake. Who knows. "I think I need a different kind of therapy," she cracks an awkward smile at Mabelle.

Zara gets a slice of cake squishy plushie from DOOR TOKEN CHEST.

Valerian follows the directions, His gaze lifting every now and then glancing to Tyche overhearing her words on birthday girls and trickery, "Trickery indeed, no one said this would be so messy." The young man having already managed to get yolk on the book before he sets to mixing things a bit adding far too much of one ingredient and not near enough of another, The young man looking nervous yet almost optomistic over the attempt at baking.

Ryhalt chuckles at Tyche's question. "Did you hear about the 'hunt'? Do still need to get her back for that one." He grins at Mabelle's claim he looks innocent but is probably out for revenge. Continuing speaking to Tyche, he says, "I have just the idea. She even came up with it herself."

Something is sailing through the air at him and Cristoph notices it out of the corner of his eye, twitching back in surprise. "You don't work for me!" he calls back to Deva. But also, "I mean I guess he doesn't either."

Dycard checks dexterity and legerdemain at normal. Dycard is successful.

Mabelle perks for a moment, "I DID SAY IT WILL BE MESSY!", she coughs, "I just decided not to provide you with aprons this time". She wanders over to look over Patrizio's shoulder, "See? You can bake. Do not forget sugar". Squinting at Ryhalt, "Deserve best served cold? That hunt was fun!" shr protests.

"Hey," Tyche is mid-swat to Cristoph's arm for some theft he was doing, when Deva decides to throw an egg shell through the air at Cris - who dodges it beautifully! Tyche? Not so much. The shell bounces off her chest and into her mixture. She gasps, looking down at the bowl. "What..." She blinks, and then steals Cristoph's bowl, swapping it with her own. That done, she grin to Ryhalt, "What hunt? Please tell me the details!"

Drake gets a slice of cake squishy plushie from DOOR TOKEN CHEST.

Piccola takes a slice of cake squishy plushie from DOOR TOKEN CHEST.

Cristoph checks dexterity and investigation at normal. Cristoph is successful.

"I don't work for ANYONE!" sighs Deva, throwing her hands in the air. No egg shell hits. No good cake baking. This is not her day! She puffs her cheeks and huffs, reaching for the cider again. Between sips, she does mouth 'sorry' at Tyche. Oops.

This bowl is not Cristoph's that he suddenly finds in his hand. He peers to the left at Tyche and then over at Deva. Then he reaches for a spoon on the table and begins studiously examining the contents of the cake batter for the egg shell. He eventually finds it. He turns and FLICKS it back from whence it came.


*** Cristoph has called for an opposing check with Deva. ***
Cristoph checks dexterity and athletics at easy. Cristoph is spectacularly successful.
Deva checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Deva is successful.
*** Cristoph is the winner. ***

Patrizio playfully bats his eyelashes to Tyche, even as a good portion of the cake batter is on his apron. "Think about how fast it'd cook if I could use what I have at my disposal!" There's too much enthusiasm in the idea of setting things /actually/ on fire from the Pravusi prince, when he's getting the thing whipped now into a very thick mess in the bowl, and there's the turn of his head, the consideration of those flying eggs. "I feel like I'm unarmed when it comes to this," he says lowly, contemplating whether he ought have brought something more protective than the apron.

Yolks and whites. Amari read about these. She read about all of this, probably. She has this intense look on her face as she reviews the recipe given, then with a crease in her brow she begins to follow it. The Keaton lady does not speak. Talk is a distraction. Distraction is confusion. Confusion leads to cake tragedy. The dry ingredients are measured and mixed, then a well put in the center for the wet ones. The first is the eggs, which she cracks and separates by juggling the yolks from one half of the shell to the other and pouring away the whites left behind each time. Easy enough. Then comes the mixing.


*** Cirroch has called for an opposing check with Cristoph. ***
Cirroch checks dexterity and athletics at easy. Cirroch is successful.
Cristoph checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Cristoph is successful.
*** Cristoph is the winner. ***

Flour IS Everywhere. All over the Marquis, he's somehow managed to get some on his chin and is still trying his best to follow the directions. Though one bowl has already been broken in his overzealousness to do this right. He watches as Cristoph and Deva are throwing their food waste at each other. "Aha. It is like a Sanna dinner then! Deva! I have... Batter!" And with that he slings some of the cake batter at Cristoph, "For Redrain!"

Glancing about furtively as he continues to crack eggs, pour sugar, and generally either mimic others or follow the instructions on the recipe card, Dycard makes a show of pouring through some of the ingredients as one hand disappears under the table and then returns only to almost disappear in his mixing bowl followed by a rush of soft 'plopping' as the batter is traced with a vibrant red.

"I WILL THROW DOWN RIGHT NOW, LAURENT!" yells Deva as Cristoph HITS HER IN THE HEAD with her own egg shell and the batter it splatters with it. Fuming, she just... empties the rest of the cider bottle. Was she supposed to share that?

Mabelle rounds her eyes at Cristoph for a moment as he makes a mess of his own kitchen, "See, its not the house that is the fire hazzard, its you, really", she tempts fate there and looks toward Cirroch instead, "How are you handling yourself there?". Her eyes travel around the batters of people, encouraging them, "Looks good, looks good, its a simple recipe, STOP THROWING FOOD!!! Just start pouring it into the mold and put it in the stove, Maurice will help you!".

"I'm surprised Cristoph didn't tell you." Ryhalt replies to Tyche. "It involved stuffed bears, signs telling us where to go, and a megalomaniac cook." Glancing over the recipe, he starts mixing his cake together.

Valerian checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Valerian is successful.


As voices started to rise, Piccola looks over to Deva and Cristoph. "Well, looks like tonight's going to have some brawling after all." This gets her interest.



When the NEXT thing comes flying at Cristoph, he doesn't actually move out of the way. Instead he does the smarter thing and he gets directly in its path before it hits Tyche. The batter ends up all over his silk shirt. "Understood, cousin!" he calls out as he cleans his shirt off.

And food is flying! Flour is flying! Tyche is... trying to carry on a lovely conversation with Ryhalt. "Megalomaniac cook? Goodness. Mabelle does think of the most..." she dodges a bit of cake batter flung at Cristoph, "...elaborate of plots." She grabs Cristoph's arm, then, yanking him down so that she might whisper something.

Zara checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 2 lower.

Deva checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 18 lower.

Patrizio checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 15 lower.

Cirroch checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 11 lower.

Dycard checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 8 lower.

Drake checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 12 lower.

Cristoph checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 4 lower.

Tyche checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 3 lower.

Ryhalt checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 4 lower.

Piccola checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 2 lower.

A well-plucked eyebrow rises at the discussion of not throwing food. "I think it's just another way to aerate it, my lady," counters Patrizio, just having more fun with the thing than perhaps even he expected to, as he's actually managing to get the greater portion of the batter in his bowl into the mold. There's a brief look at Mabelle, though, when he overhears the matter of the story that Ryhalt is telling...

Valerian checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 17 lower.

As egg shells and bits of batter fly between Cristoph and Deva the Kennex Lord is quick to duck down using the counter as a shield only to seconds later grab up the book on bak.ing holding its own fair share of batter to his chest to protect it from further damage. His shirt a casualty in the war against book violence. Finally the man raises and hearing the instructions from M.

Grumbling all the while, Deva moves to put her sad excuse of a cake into the oven. And then she abruptly leaves like she completely forgot what she was doing here, taking another bottle with her on the way out. Hopefully someone -else- remembers to get her crispy cake out.

Amari checked composure at difficulty 25, rolling 3 lower.

As egg shells and bits of batter fly between Cristoph and Deva the Kennex Lord is quick to duck down using the counter as a shield only to seconds later grab up the book on bak.ing holding its own fair share of batter to his chest to protect it from further damage. His shirt a casualty in the war against book violence. Finally the man raises and hearing the instructions from Mabelle he moves to ready to pour, spilling more batter showing that of all things for him baking is likely never to be among them. Valerian finished with pouring steps back for now..eyeing the oven and nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another before he is looking around as he murmurs to himself, "It's okay Valerian don't check it too soon, No that won't.." And No sooner does the last word leave him and the young man is moving to check his cullinary crime.

Hearing Patrizio saying throwing food is just aerating it, Ryhalt laughs deep in his belly. "Do cakes need aerating?" He glances at the recipe, in case he hasn't gotten to that part yet. He has to chuckle at Tyche and nods in agreement as he sets his cake in the oven. "She does. It seems it'd be easier to just let us hunt for real. The stuffed bears strung up in the trees was a thing of nightmare and outrage."

Jasper, an unflappable scoundrel, 2 Redrain Guards, Aspen, a pale seraphinite green snake leave, following Deva.

Trying to use the chaos of the food fight to obscure his secretly 'improved' cake batter as he pours it into the mold, Dycard's head bobs up and down in appreciation of his own work and then, for some reason, looked for mitts to lift it up and stick it in the oven. Somewhere, the fact the cake wasn't hot yet had slipped his mind, and after safely storing it within, he glided back over to lean against the table with a languid sigh. "The trick in all this, is good intelligence gathering," he quipped aloud, before scowling and padding back toward the oven to see if anyone had tried to somehow...switch his cake around or the like.

Pouring. Sure... Cirroch listens intently to Mabelle's instructions, a little smile as she mentions burning things down. "Unless it's the Duke that's burning the house down, I will do my best to not set fire to your kitchen." He appears to be trying to pay attention to the pouring of the cake, a little happy to have have worn the aeterna robe instead of his usual tunics. Then gets annoyed at the bowl's contents not pouring evenly and tosses the bowl and mold direclty into the oven. "Where's the whiskey then?"

Mabelle defends Maurice to Tyche, "He was just out there making sure they werent dehydrated, they are completely exaggerating. Especially Duke Harlan, if you ever hear his side of the story". As the food war continues, Mabelle slowly edges toward the door despite her might be freezing to death, but the commotion by the stove makes her feel safer where she is. Mabelle grins amusedly as Valerian, but calls toward Ryhalt, "They were not horrifying, they were cutes!... intelligence gathering?", she asks Dycard, looking over her shoulder with a slight frown as Deva leaves. A server hearing Cirroch serves the marquis with honey whiskey post haste.

"Wait! We need to put the cakes in." Cristoph is standing again and hauling Tyche up to a standing position with him. He pours the cake batter into a tray and slaps his into the oven with the others. This is fine.

Drake is not a man known for his patience. He definitely doesn't leave the cake in long enough. But, maybe that's a common enough problem here... though his is going to be a lot more collapsed than most, probably. It looks dry on the outside! That's all that matters.

Mabelle soothes the eager bakers, "Let them bake! There's normal cake around and some drinks while you wait"

Patrizio turns his attention, briefly, towards Valerian when the man's talking to himself about the cake, but there's a laugh, warm and true, to Ryhalt. "If you don't aerate it, then it's going to be flat and whatnot and..." Just like what the prince himself is doing, really, with how much he'd beaten it. And yet he's completely oblivious to this fact while the cake is baking.

Tyche is hauled to her feet, and she spreads the batter out. She scoops it up with two hands, and turns to the ovens. There's room a-plenty for them, and she slips the dish in next to Cristoph's. A dusting of her hands, and she turns to Mabelle now, "That being said, Mabelle, you're still very crafty and elaborate. It is the highest of compliments," she promises. Her hand slips into the crook of his arm, dusting him with flour. "Come. We wait now, and I need a drink."

Valerian checks composure at hard. Valerian fails.

Amari is being especially careful about all this, so waits until there's a ceasefire and most everyone else has stuck their cakes in the oven. Then and only then, will she take her own over and deposit it, which means it'll likely be the first out and thus undercooked. At least it won't be on the floor! So, mission accomplished, she finds herself a cup of cider to sip on while she observes everyone else in silence.


Nor does Piccola.

She pulls out her cake. After looking at it critically, she turns it about slowly at her station, and murmurs quietly, again to no one, "Well, here it is; I guess."

Unimpressed, she fetches her cup of tea again, which is probably cold.



Ryhalt shakes his head to Mabelle. "If stuffed anything is gathering intelligence that is definition of ultra creepy right there." Not convinced! To Patrizio's point, he nods slowly. "Oh, wouldn't want that... probably not much air in the oven." So he takes it out a bit too early so it looks a bit marshy. "Air will...fix this?"

Mabelle grins at Tyche, "What being said? I missed the first part of the sentence, Did you all meet Lord Valerian Kennex? A Kennex won here last time, I'd be careful around him", she points to Valerian and hums at Patrizio, "Yours actually look promising, how are you doing there, Dycard? And you Amari? I hope to have something to eat by the end of the night". Staring at Ryhalt, Mabelle is shocked, "They were teddies, regular teddies. Not abyssal bears. There is no having fun with you people!"

For one reason or another as the young Kennex lord looks around there it comes, a deep rush of color to his cheeks as he moves rather swiftly back to his little region of the island in the kitchen, the book carefully wiped clean as he focuses rather intently upon the book and the book alone and the efforts to clean any spilled batter from it. The young man torn between that task of comfort in caring for the book and checking his cake. A little glance up given off to the oven now and then. Valerian's blush not seeming to subside even as the book is tucked away and he moves to get out his cake that looks like it could have likewise used a bit more time in the oven baking to perfection, Instead the thing looks underdone and meek.

Cirroch has knocked back several of the whiskies, "These glasses are much too small..." As each glass is emptied he looks in the oven, then back to drinking, and on repeat. Eventually, he's given up on looking in the oven and has taken to pouring each glass of whiskey into the larger bowl at his cooking station until the bowl is nearly full and begins to drink from it. Wiping his chin after a /sip/ "See, much better. ... Does anyone smell fire?"

Moving as if to reach into his coat, Dycard frowns as he glances down at his chest only to realize he's got the apron on instead. "Damned thing..." he muttered as he looked about for the drinks. His cheeks flushed at Mabelle's compliment and he shrugged, "Well - I may have deviated from the recipe a little, my lady, after having Orrick do some searching about the market for me." His explanation was simple, if rather vague, as he moved to join Cirroch so that the servants didn't have to travel too far with their resupplies of whiskey. "My lord - i'm not sure if we've met - Dycard Blackshore, at your service. Care if I join you while we wait?"

"Your defense of Maurice," Tyche explains the 'that being said.' "His goodness does not take away from your sneaky ways." That explained, she turns a smile on Valerian. "Lord Kennex. A pleasure, and a pity that we could not meet outside of a kitchen, where we might be on better display," she dips her head. "Marquessa Tyche Inverno." She shifts her attention back to the man at her side, something whispered earning the slow arching of a brow, and a pointed look at Patrizio. "Your highness, how deep do your proclivities toward flames run, I wonder? Asking for a friend."

Valerian checks composure at daunting. Valerian marginally fails.

Ryhalt hides a grin at Mabelle's shock. Noting Mabelle telling them to be wary of Valerian, he glances towards the man. "So the last suspect for setting the kitchen on fire, got it." Speaking of fire, he sniffs at Cirroch's prompting question, but shrugs. "I hope the cake-taster enjoys...unique-tasting cakes."

"I don't think I've had the pleasure." Patrizio smiles to Valerian when he's introduced and there's an inclination of his head. "Patrizio Pravus, my lord. Well-met."

Though Tyche's question gets a turn of his head, and the play of a smile for a few long moments before he seems to come to an appropriate answer. "I'm not a believer in 'all fire, all the time', but there are certainly times where there's a good argument for applying it liberally, and cooking everything nice and crispy. Why do you ask, my lady?"

Mabelle needs whiskey herself. She goes over to wait by the others as she awaits the cakes, "You all look like a mess", she poses her gown, shinning like a disco ball that hasnt been tainted with baking, "They all had fun", she assures Tyche, "Do not let them trick you into thinking they were suffering". Ryhalt's comment draws a pityful glance at Cupcake. Patrizio describing a cake as crispy makes her lift her eyebrow though.


Casually, Piccola takes her cup of tea and wanders into another part of the mansion; maybe she's had enough of the baking.



And then it happens again, Seemingly out of no where Valerian's cheeks darken further as the young Kennex Lord begins to blush fiercly, the color spreading from his cheeks and down along his neck as he looks to Tyche hearing the woman addressing him. The young man stuttering at first, "I..yes..um very true. Though even if it were a normal party near anyone would have me at the disadvantage." The young man admitting in a softer tone before he is looking to the cake or excuse for one that is his in his hands moving to set it down so it cold cool a bit. His dark gaze turning to Tyche as he looks up at the woman with a shy glance, "it is good to meet you Marquessa." The mention of the cake tester from Ryhalt has Valerian wincing as he murmurs softly under his breath in another language.

Valerian says in Marin'alfar, "gods protect the cake tester from whatever we have done here tonight.."

Cristoph is mid-drink and has certainly forgotten the timing on the cake entirely. He doesn't notice if anything is burning. He's a duke, not a baker. And it shows. When Tyche begins asking Patrizio questions, he turns his attention briefly to the ceiling of the kitchen as if he's found something quite fascinating there. Then he drops his gaze back down to the conversation at hand, his expression amused. "We were /suffering/, Marquessa. /Suffering/. We'll have our revenge when my cousin least expects it." He lifts his drink in Ryhalt's direction. He hasn't forgotten.

Maurice is standing by the stove, waving off the smoke while he mumbles something in ancient Artshallian, it sounds like he's swearing, but surely he is not, he is a polite and reserved man. Slowly and steadily, he begins to pull out the cakes from the oven to leave them on the respective work stations to cool off.

In mid /sip/ Cirroch puts the bowl down, nodding to Dycard, "Marquis Cirroch Sanna, of Giant's Reach. It's a pleasure to meet you. And, anyone that enjoys large quanities of whiskey. Is a friend." He turns to the oven and is pretty sure that the smoke is coming from... Yes. It's the wodden mixing bowl that is in the oven with the baking pan. "Ha! I lied. I have set fire to your kitchen." Cirroch looks at the oven for a moment trying to figure out how to get the cake out of the oven. "Tila's going to think I'm doing this on purpose..."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Amari before departing.

Ryhalt nods in agreement with Cristoph. "There was much suffering. Our revenge is necessary and will be sweet." He grins at Cristoph.

"I'll be sure to mark it, my lord, if - " he stopped as the smoke began to rise and he chortled in laughter, clearing away with a glass of whiskey to review his own cake, his brow furrowing in disquiet. Where streaks of bright red graced the batter, much of the cake was now a deep maroon.

Cirroch checked willpower + seduction at difficulty 30, rolling 35 higher.

Ryhalt checked intellect + seduction at difficulty 30, rolling 26 higher.

Mabelle protests repeatedly, "NONE OF YOU SUFFERED!A"

Amari checked intellect + performance at difficulty 30, rolling 9 higher.

Dycard checked charm + seduction at difficulty 30, rolling 25 higher.

Valerian checked intellect + artwork at difficulty 30, rolling 0 higher.

Cristoph checked charm + seduction at difficulty 30, rolling 15 higher.

Drake doesn't look too proud of his after all, but... "They're too hot to decorate, right?" he asks. He thinks he knows that much. "But not to eat. If we're going straight to that." Except for the burned ones.

Patrizio checked willpower + performance at difficulty 30, rolling 52 higher. Patrizio rolled a critical!

Drake checked charm + seduction at difficulty 30, rolling 24 higher.

Tyche checked charm + performance at difficulty 30, rolling 13 higher.

Cake burns. Muttering a little, "Was unaware that it burned that much." Cirroch then is looking at how to best fix this cake. Looking at the bowl of whiskey and the cake. He pours /some/ of the whiskey over top of the cake.

Zara checked charm + seduction at difficulty 30, rolling 145 higher. Zara rolled a critical!

Ryhalt hums with pure mischief as he sets to decorating his cake with various colored icings. It might not be, technically, that well done, but it looks somewhat like he's trying to paint Mabelle in her current outfit onto the cake. He shrugs to Drake.

Valerian checked luck + artwork at difficulty 9, rolling 20 higher.

Amari murmurs something that sounds positive to indicate that everything is going well, to Mabelle. Only is it? She doesn't know. The wait could be nerve wracking, but when her cake is pulled out and set on the table she finds that it looks cake-like. It may even be edible. The next step is to make it look as appealing as possible with an amazing presentation! Only, it's not really amazing. She just manages to get it out of the pan and onto a nice place with it still intact. She seems okay with that, and finishes it off with a dusting of powder sugar.

Valerian checked dexterity + legerdemain at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.

Patrizio cannot bake. This is an established fact, given how he's been seen preparing the batter to put it into the oven. But he does also have his maps and the like, for anyone - such as the hostess of the evening - who's seen him about the various taverns int he late of night, and so he's clearly possessed of some artistic talent. That he's perhaps taking a general's eye to attacking the decorating of the cake - or that it might well look like something that could be gracing the map table in his office - at least seems to be working for him as he's making something out of seemingly nothing.

And yet, the prince also isn't neglecting the needful. "Marquis Sanna," he replies without looking over to Cirroch, though the grin lingers on his lips, "I know not anyone who enjoys whiskey in quantities as you do. Which is indeed a compliment to hear you declare anyone who can even attempt to keep up a friend."

"If ever I host a party, Patrizio, and you receive invitation, will you promise to keep your love of the flames far from the evening?" Tyche reveals the reason for her request, a sly grin sent Cristoph-ward as he looks to the ceiling. "Oh, I'm sure you suffered muchly at the hands of your cousin, who adores you and forces you to have dinners with friends." She remembers, then, that her cake should be done! And it is... a little overdone. But not much! She draws it from the oven with the proper protection, and sets it aside to decorate. Valerian's response in greeting is met with a smile, and a little nod.

Mabelle peeks over Patrizio's shoulder, "That doesnt look that bad", she reaches a finger to taste the frosting on Patrizio's cake when she hears Tyche, "Yes, thank you voice of reason. I am begin magnificent. Its the Duke's Outreach Program and they are failing to comply".

Taking her cake out, even Zara seems absolutely astonished by the creamy treat she has brandished. Seriously? How did it come out like this? "Mabelle, happy birthday." She says with a smooth voice as though she totally planned it to look like this.

Glowering to himself, Dycard let out a melodramatic sigh as he set to work. Making liberal use of frosting to try and cover up his awful attempt at making a raspberry cake batter by whipping fresh berries into plain bowls of frosting and then attempting to depict Mabelle wearing a shark while tending to a bee hive. Unfortunately, it mostly looks like multi-colored blobs plopping against other multi-colored blobs.

Baelos saunters into the Laurent kitchens. He is absurdly late for joining the contest, and is empty-handed as well. Perhaps the lovely scent of cakes enticed him from a nearby tavern? And just so, he is not empty handed after all - he has a bottle! Some variety of booze. He looks around for a familiar face for a moment, with a bit less bluster than typical for him.

Cirroch apparently is trying to decide when too much whiskey... if that even exists and ends up pouring most of the bowl over top of the cake then uses the rest of the bowl's whiskey to mix up a frosting. Probably the only thing that he remembers from the kitchen staff explaining that if he mucks everything else up that the frosting can save the cake. "Prince Patrizio, I don't expect many to keep up. Though, it is fun when they try. Are you coming to the hart later for our little flight lessons?"

Whatever Cristoph was drinking was very good, because he promptly knocks back what was left in the glass. It's set off to the side and he watches with amusement as Tyche hurries off after issuing her question to Patrizio. "We're complying perfectly well. Ryhalt and I send each other messages and then we both get busy and remember to respond a solid... what would you say? Six to ten days later and sometimes only when we see each other in public. We're /very/ good communicators. Excellent." Cristoph is apparently a really AWFUL pen pal if this exchange is any indication. "Maybe we'll talk after this party is over." You never know, Mabelle. "Oh, the cake." Then he too heads over and grabs the baked good from the rack and starts decorating it. It's not the worst thing. It's better than this painting of Norwood.

Mabelle stares at Zara's magnificent cake, "That's beautiful", but when she reaches to touch it it moves. Oh it moves. Mabelle shifts her eyes, "I will taste it when it gets cold!", she declares and circles around to view Dycard's cake, "That is adorable, awww, is that me? That's what I would look like if I gained fat". Her hand rise to greet Baelos, "Prince Redrain", she greets the man not before rolling her eyes at Cristoph, "Good thing you are not a runner"

Ryhalt laughs at Cristoph's summation of their attempts to meet of late. "We need someone to write letters for us, so we don't forget or get too busy." Pointing at Mabelle, he says, "This isn't a request to trick us into meeting!"

Drake at least did realize he had to wait the right amount of time to decorate the cake, so it's not falling totally apart. He's trying to - one handed - pipe some flowers on it, because that is a thing that he saw someone do once. They aren't terrible though it hasn't occured to him yet that the reason his cake cooled so fast is because it's not very well cooked in the middle.

Valerian's efforts are far less rewarding than those of the others, The young man trying to incorporate in person instruction with recipes in that baking book, The man not helping his mess issues one bit when he thankfully uses some frosting that wasn't made by him, Though it brings about that issue of him putting what he visualizes into action of the baked kind. The cake in short much like the young Lord by this stage a bit of a mess.

"I believe your cousin is more a charioteer, if memory serves, Lady Laurent," Dycard quipped as she passed by, pointedly ignoring her comment on his cake out of embarrassment. Snorting in amusement as he catches Cirroch out of the corner of his eye, he points across the kitchen, "I'm looking forward to that cake, regardless of how well Princess Zara's came out."

With something resembling frosting Cirroch steps back as he simply dumps the bowl on top of the cake then uses his hands to push it around on the still warm cake. "Erm. This doesn't seem quite right." He looks to the servers and holds the bowl out poining a finger at the whiskey then to the bowl.

Dycard says, "Or perhaps not..."

Patrizio gives Tyche a beatific smile when she's commenting about his leaving his love of fire at bay. "I'll mention the same to Lu, then, just to be wholly certain about safety of those attending," he says with warmth and a boyish grin. The lift of a brow when Mabelle pronounces that his work doesn't "look that bad", but he's clearly in the spirit of the thing as he's finishing the decorating.

Amari stands back from her magnificent work (which is really average at best) and slowly begins to look disappointed in it. Just a little bit anyway. Like all artists who have reached for the stars and fallen on their face, she consoles herself with drink. Sipping her cup of cider down, slowly, but surely, she doesn't notice the newcomer until Mabelle greets the Redrain. She turns then, lifts her brow at him, and then simply gestures to the cake. "Oh. I hope you've brought an appetite. This cake is not going to eat itself."

Cirroch drops the saddest looking lopsided cake with frosting falling off.

"I will stop sending your missives, Duke Laurent, so that Ryhalt can win more of your attention," Tyche makes that promise that she has absolutely zero intention of keeping. Nope. She does some little swirlies on her cake, adding a flare that wouldn't win any prizes, but isn't horrible to look at. Now tasting the cake? She pushes it away, and reaches for a glass of cider. "Cheers," she lifts it to Cristoph in salute, and then brings it to her lips for a long drink. And then the same cup is lifted to Patrizio at his hard-won promise. "Perfect."

Valerian drops A beeautiful Disaster, A cake that may or may not be hazardous to your health.

Mabelle peers over Drake's shoulder, grinning at him, "Good thing you are good with the sword", she notes to him amusedly, and while the mess is going on, Maurice produces a real, five tier birthday cake and places it in the middle of the room. For people who do not feel like experimenting. "Happy birthday My Lady", he bows to Mabelle and leaves the room looking like he is about to weep at the state of his kitchen. Mabelle gazes at the door, trying not to laugh.

Valerian checks luck at normal. Valerian marginally fails.

Drake chuckles. "Yes, I suppose I'm better with the sword than with frosting, eh, but it's not a disaster?" It's... fine. When a real cake appears, though, he looks relieved, sharing the chuckle that Mabelle has.

Cupcake, the person, enters the room with a few packages and offers them to the retainers of Zara, Ryhalt and Cirroch for winning, Artshall wares indeed.

Valerian checks composure at normal. Valerian is successful.

Ryhalt chuckles at Tyche's promise, but gets distracted at the masterpiece which Zara has produced. "Arr, looks like the Princess has stolen my vengeance from me! Is this where we get to aerate the cakes again by pelting the winner with our inferior products?"

Mabelle takes A beeautiful Disaster, A cake that may or may not be hazardous to your health.

Mabelle takes the saddest looking lopsided cake with frosting falling off.

Baelos manages to navigate his way to Amari. "I brought some rum. I hear it makes a good cake..." He pauses, squinting at his bottle's label as he holds it out. Frowning, he pulls the cork and takes a drink. "Ah, no, actually that is gin. It is the thought that counts, right?" He returns Mabelle's greeting before eyeing Amari's cake for a few moments. He glances back to the Keaton: "Just dive right in then?"

There is a moment when Valerian steps back from his cake he looks almost hopeful as his eyes open and close, And then reality sets in and he is quickly reaching out for a drink..any drink only to find himself gathering up a glass of the artshall honey whiskey, the young man lifting the glass to try and hide the dissapointment only to have that look shift to surprise as he takes that first sip. Though he remains firm and steadfast in that sip drinking from the glass a moment before lowering the glass. The young Kennex breathing deep and giving a drawn out sigh as his glass lifts and that dark gaze seeks out Mabelle, "Happy Birthday Lady Mabelle..Please..don't make the taster try mine."

Mabelle mentions aside to Cristoph as she takes in an actual piece of real cake from the big one, "I think he might hand in his notice tomorrow", she jerks her thumb at the door and invites others to partake in the cake as well. Her eyes land on Ryhalt then, teasing him, "Always second, right?"

Tyche's promise is met with Cristoph turning her way mid-decorating, a short laugh before he murmurs something in reply. Then he straightens again and puts the finishing touches on his cake. "Duke Ryhalt and myself will schedule something soon. I'm sure. I believe in us." He frowns at his handiwork. "This is fine, I guess." He shrugs and swipes his finger through some extra icing and puts it to his lips, looking across the room at Zara's cake. "I should have spent time in Sanctum learning things there instead of Artshall, clearly."

Zara checked dexterity + alchemy at difficulty -1, rolling 10 higher.

Zara drops a beautiful rainbow cake with sun in the corner.

"Well..." Amari is about to say something affirmative, but hesitates. Baelos has given her an idea. Taking the wooden mixing spoon up again, she mushes off a corner of the cake and tries a little of it to test. She offers the rest to Baelos, and since she didn't immediately die, he probably won't either. "It can be improved. Rum would have been ideal, but if its soaked in something suitable it'll make a much better pudding than a cake."

Cirroch pushes his cake, as it is falling and sliding in every which way across the table, then takes to drinking from his makeshift whiskey horn/bowl. Wiping his chin, "Rum, gin, put it in the bowl. It should make this easier to deal with versus the conversation with my sister later about setting the kitchen on fire."

Mabelle murmurs aside to Patrizio, "So much for cake therapy for being poisoned. Does food poisoning count as well?"

Ryhalt nods in agreement with Cristoph. "Indeed!" Eschewing trying his own cake, not about to trust his health with his actual baking skills, he takes a slice of the cake which Maurice had brought in.

Zara has left the a cozy L-shaped breakfast nook.

Elena, a solemn knight attache, Alette, a discreet lady's maid, Isabel, a calm diplomatic aide, 4 Valardin Knights, Gracious, a hospitable turtle leave, following Zara.

There's a wholly innocent look to Mabelle, but then the more serious shake of his head. " I suppose that it's something to be said for facing your fears about the thing."

Baelos abandons all caution by personality! He drinks and carouses! He fights in underground bare knuckle boxing matches! He rarely wears clothes! But, this cake appears to cause him some mild hesitation. Clearly he is game for anything, as he takes the spoon from Amari and tastes it. He arches a brow, considering. "Not bad!" He concludes, before clearing his throat. "Maybe some gin though..."

Mabelle indicates Valerian's cake a it looks like something ants wont even collect for winter, "You get a prize for effort", she teases the man as he is handed a small bundle for the cake he produced. Looking at Ryhalt, Mabelle chides him, "See, you eat his cake yet call him scary, how is that fair?", she notes while eating Maurice's cake herself and concuring with Patrizio, "I suppose so. I think both of us know I wasnt going to give up cake entirely". Scanning the rest of the guests, her eyes fall upon Dycard and Drake, "Asll well aside from bruised ego?"

Mabelle is overheard praising Dycard: For the effort!

Valerian himself not wanting to leave too much a mess for anyone else to clean up on his part begins to try and clean up his little space of the island. The young man taking the occasional sip of his glass of whiskey seeming to relax with each new sip taken. Eventually he is looking to Amari, "Wait, that's how they make pudding?" The young man's eyes widening slightly at the realization. The words from Mabelle and the small bundle handed over has his cheeks darkening briefly and his head dipping to the woman, "Thank you Lady Mabelle, And your dress is lovely. Your earlier words didn't near do it justice." His words on her dress a near whisper.

Valerian is overheard praising Zara: A cake of beauty!

Mabelle is overheard praising Patrizio: It looked edible

Ryhalt grins, mid-way to another forkful of cake. "Lady Mabelle, it's different when it's something he's giving to you. He's nice about it rather than creepy. He's *probably* not going to risk poisoning you to get at the rest of us."

Mabelle is overheard praising Cristoph: For not burning the kitchen, himself.

"Well enough," Drake says. He gives Mabelle a kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday. Baking's not my strongest skill, but I appreciate the effort that goes into it, now that I have tried it a bit."

Ryhalt is overheard praising Mabelle: Happy Birthday & excellent hostess!

Cirroch is overheard praising Mabelle: Happy Birthday

Letting out another blustering sigh, Dycard hangs up his apron and goes to pull his coat back on, casting a dirty look in the filthy piece of fabric's direction as if it were the apron's fault rather than his that he lost before turning to mingle some with the guests. He cast a shrug at the question as his grin returns, hand disappearing into his coat to retrieve a flask. "I'll live, my lady. It was a vain hope from the get go," he replied, before catching sight of Amari and waving, and then rocking on his heels as he began to drink steadily.

Dycard is overheard praising Mabelle.

Valerian is overheard praising Mabelle: Happy Cake therapy and lovely dress.

Mabelle chuckles at Valerian, "It is much more impressive in person, isnt it? And he wasnt being creepy, Ryhalt", she eyes the duke. "Maybe next time I will throw you in the woods with no water!", she huffs and leans to accept Drake's kiss. "You did well last time too, you are getting better!" Dycard's mood draws her toward him, elbowing him, "You did well".

"Perish the thought," Patrizio counters to Mabelle at her own comment about not giving up cake. There's a grin as well for himself as he's considering the other cakes, and... well, his ego's not wounded at his effort, certainly. Though there's a chuckle, and a consideration for matters pastry, before he murmurs, "I think that I'm going to be sticking to affairs martial, and not go into cuisine."

Patrizio is overheard praising Mabelle: Happy birthday, and may all your cakes be as delicious and delightful as the day.

Drake is overheard praising Mabelle.

Tyche engages in a quiet conversation with Cristoph, squeezing his arm and looking at his cake. She steps back a bit, releasing him so she might begin to remove her apron, fingers working at the bow. "Lady Mabelle, thank you for the wonderful evening, and again, happiest of birthdays. You are much loved, as you can see."

"Now, that'd be a proper adventure." Ryhalt grins at Mabelle, not daunted by her threat.

"For true pudding, you put all the ingredients in some cloth, tie it up, and then you boil it." Amari explains to Valarian as if she's some sort of unlikely pudding expert. "This is false pudding." The fakest of puddings. Finding a bowl, she spoons a big chunk of 'not bad' cake into it and breaks it apart. Baelos is given instructions next and a level indicated on the side of the bowl with her fingertip, "Alright, add gin, to about there. This could work." Stepping back so he can do his part, she notices the waving and dips her head politely to Dycard in greeting.

There is a small smile given by Valerian hearing Mabelle's words, the young man's dark gaze lifting to look to the woman. "Oh very much so Lady Mabelle, Very much so." His eyes lowering quickly after the compliment before he is looking to Partizio giving a nod of agreement, "And me my books and studies, I think Baking is best left to the bakers salacious and otherwise." The man offering up a bit more boldly than he normally would given the drink. When Amari explains that it is false pudding he gives a small nod looking to what she does curiously a few moments in silent study.

Ryhalt gets a slice of cake squishy plushie from DOOR TOKEN CHEST.

The duke has gone quietly still as he speaks with Tyche and in the end, she's squeezing his arm. Cristoph hazards a smile in her direction, nodding once before he takes up something from the table. "Thank you, cousin. It was a wonderful party. You're an excellent hostess as always," he says Mabelle before removing his apron and moving to join the Marquessa in her farewells. "Enjoy the rest of your party too, what remains of it." A glance given around to the mess before he smiles and steps aside.

Mabelle informs Amari as she instructs Valerian about pudding, "That sounds horrifying", she chuckles at her. Mabelle then teases Tyche, "Thank you. Do remind your uncle of that and inform him he's the worst Protege to date", she grins at the woman, considering Ryhalt's desire to get dehaydrated and pushes whiskey in his direction.

"Ah, well, such are the vagaries of fate. I think I would have had a spot amongst the leaders had Princess Zara not had such a stroke of genius or fortune," he quipped while grinning. "So, do I have to go duff up some scholars to hide a white journal of mine, or should I ask Rom to start writing your cousin?" he joked just loud enough as Cristoph approached to say his farewell, before nodding at Valerian. "Did you get my book, my lord?" he asked.

Mabelle takes DOOR TOKEN CHEST.

Merek walks into the place and looks about. He will want to bake, though he's probably not here fast enough to participate. So it's just enjoyment for him, while he makes a way to find a place to settle in.

Ryhalt eyes the whiskey warily. "Now you're trying to kill me." Still, he takes the whiskey and dares to drink it with the cake.

"You are the expert." Baelos agrees, before pouring a fairly absurd amount of very juniper-y gin into the bowl. After he finishes, he raises it for another drink - who needs a glass - and then glances over to Valerian and offers it. Back to Amari, he comments: "I had no idea cooking would come so naturally to me. Maybe this is the hobby of which I am in such dire need!"

Cristoph has left the a cozy L-shaped breakfast nook.

Tyche has left the a cozy L-shaped breakfast nook.

1 Inverno Ensign, 1 Inverno Captain, Cornelius, a studious looking attendant, 4 First Legion Centurions leave, following Tyche.

Rupert, the Laurent Archivist, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Laurent veteran guards, Tyche leave, following Cristoph.

6 First Legion Centurions leaves, following Patrizio.

Mabelle regards Dycard uncertainly, "What do you mean by that?"

Calluna, A Young Highhill Mastiff leaves, following Drake.

When Baelos makes that offer to him the young Kennex Lord is quickly lifting his glass, Valerian's head giving a small shake to decline the offered drink offering instead a small apologetic and nervous smile. "No thank you, I don't often drink..and this is likely to loosen my tongue more than enough." The man admitting that tolerance of his or lack there of as his glass is raised and another sip is taken.

Cirroch looks to Dycard, with a slight smile. "I believe that we might get along better than initially though. Duffing some scholars along with whiskey, makes up for getting lost in the archives and being told the basements are off limits."