[peter parker is a man of many talents. cooking is sadly not one of them. on the 10th, he's smelled more than heard caroline's attempts at becoming new amsterdam's next baking champion, and the smell alone was enough to make his stomach express its extreme displeasure at having not yet had something to eat.
but peter doesn't venture down to the kitchen at first, no. he's far too busy reading everything he can to get a better gauge of the world they're in. it's important, and like any scientist, ample research is required before foraying into the unknown. at least, he doesn't bother until he sees caroline's network post.
they're all far from home. individuals caught in a bigger web of some kind and he's not sure what lies at the center of it all, but no one should feel like they're alone.
especially not when there's cake involved.
peter trudges his way to the kitchen, red t-shirt and grey lounge pants — the best fitting outfit he'd managed thus far but hardly appropriate for a celebration, even if it were a casual one.
he spies the cake and the girl, thinks of gwen, and heads over to greet her.]
Hey. Happy birthday. Sorry about the... [peter gesticulates all around them, an attempt to quantify everything: the safehouse, this world, their shared plight. realizing he probably looks like a crazy person waving his arms about, he drops them abruptly.] Anyway, how's about we have a go at that cake?
no subject
but peter doesn't venture down to the kitchen at first, no. he's far too busy reading everything he can to get a better gauge of the world they're in. it's important, and like any scientist, ample research is required before foraying into the unknown. at least, he doesn't bother until he sees caroline's network post.
they're all far from home. individuals caught in a bigger web of some kind and he's not sure what lies at the center of it all, but no one should feel like they're alone.
especially not when there's cake involved.
peter trudges his way to the kitchen, red t-shirt and grey lounge pants — the best fitting outfit he'd managed thus far but hardly appropriate for a celebration, even if it were a casual one.
he spies the cake and the girl, thinks of gwen, and heads over to greet her.]
Hey. Happy birthday. Sorry about the... [peter gesticulates all around them, an attempt to quantify everything: the safehouse, this world, their shared plight. realizing he probably looks like a crazy person waving his arms about, he drops them abruptly.] Anyway, how's about we have a go at that cake?