COOKING BY THE BOOK // o, baking

[michael t.]

It wasn't exactly unknown to most members of the Typhoon that Michael had a pretty large sweet tooth. He just couldn't help it – he had always been one to overindulge after he had escaped from his family home. And if he wasn't gorging himself on thievery or alcohol, candy and other sweet treats were the next best thing. Thankfully, he had Roxie around most of the time in order to supply him with the goods in that department. She loved baking, and he loved eating baked goods. It was a win-win for the both of them. However, Roxie was rather busy as of late, what with Roan being back home and Ry being wherever the hell he had gone. Michael had been trying to provide support in any way he could, but he had never been really great at comforting people, and the night of drinking hadn't gone very well, so he was sort of out of ideas. With Roxie constantly keeping an eye on Roan now, Michael hadn't exactly gotten a chance to snatch any baked goodies from her, since she just wasn't making them right now. It was frustrating, but also unfortunately understandable, which was probably the worst part. He had pouted about it and even tried to make some stuff himself, but things he made always had a tendency to come out... just slightly off, for some reason.

The thief had been sitting outside of his home when the scent of baking cake reached his nose, his head immediately snapping upward. The bobcat initially thought the smell was coming from Roxie's house, and perhaps she had gotten out of her funk – or was maybe making a birthday cake for Roan. However, when he started to pad happily off after the scent, he was surprised to see that it was coming from the new chick's house – Gamelia, he thought she said her name was? The one seemingly made of candy, who had sort of wigged him out when she had first arrived. Still, if she was a baker, then perhaps he had judged her a little bit too harshly to start out. With his tail flicking excitedly from side to side behind him – although given how short his stump of a tail was, it looked more like it was wagging – the fugitive moved up to the windows of the home. Tapping on one of the sills with his paw, he chirped curiously, "Gamelia! Gamelia, you in there? Somethin' in there smells really, really good. Are you plannin' on sharing?" His voice actually betrayed his hope for once, something that often didn't happen with Michael.

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]