(1938-11-21) Jilted in Domestics
Details for Jilted in Domestics
Summary: During Domestic Club, Doris is jilted, but get's her own back.
Date: 21st Nov 1938
Location: Club Room

This large room has a variety of uses, and can be setup differently for each club that uses it. Large storage doors around the room each hold a different club's equipment, to be setup with the wave of a wand. When the Athletics Club is here, for example, the room is full of gymnastics, weight, and other sports equipment. When the Domestics Club is here, however, stoves and cauldrons and workstations are more likely to be found here.

The club room has been set up for Domestics Club this afternoon. Often popular with the muggle borns or those who will have to do their own domestic magic after graduation, today the room is set up with cauldrons for cooking. A cauldron is your one-stop-appliance shop. It can boil. It can simmer. It can stew. It can bake. It can be a slow cooker. Your risotto is more creamy, your pasta perfectly al dente, your stew more melt in your mouth when cooked in a cauldron.

Having selected an apron with prancing unicorns on it, Medusa is standing speaking to the staff member in charge of Domestics Club, Madam Patil. "Well, yes I know. I thought it important to try again, Madam Patil," the seventh year is explaining to the librarian. "After all, who knows what might happen in the future. I might end up living in Hogsmeade, sharing a flat above a shop with my best friends and one of us needs to know how to cook, right?" She smiles sweetly at Patil.

Doris saunters into the room, twirling her hair in her fingers as she walks. She is chewing some form of gum and looks as if she's rolled her skirt up a little too much. Her make-up is pristine as she enters, and turns to the assembled people "Hello" she says sweetly.

Because Meudsa rarely does these things without making someone tag along her cousin, Beatrice 'Marshamallow' Nott is sitting on a stool flipping through a book on domestic spells. Ginger Beatrice, known for her less than stellar intelligence and her ability to hold her breath for three minutes whilst snogging, is giggling to herself as she looks at pictures of witches cleaning things. "How silly. Why not get an elf?" When Doris strolls in Bea looks up and nods approvingly.

Doris looks to the others "Why do you need an elf? My mummy makes wonderful cakes. I am hoping I can learn to make cakes here too." she smiles as she steps unto a Cauldron. "I have no idea what to do though. I've never cooked without an oven and the like. This magic cooking looks a lot easier though!"

Madam Patil is kind, too kind more than likely, for she accepts Medusa's return and sends the girl off to find a station to take up. Deciding to set up shop near Beatrice, given that she made her cousin come along anyway, Medusa drops down onto a stool. "Some people just have elves. Some don't. The older magical families tend to have them. We have a few. My uncle has more." The information is shared with Doris, because of course Beatrice knows all of this.

Doris looks to her "Well, my family are Muggles, so we don't have elves." she looks to the textbook, and tries to find the section on cakes. "Anyone here made a magic cake before?" she says "Shame that tubby little Hufflepuff isn't here. I bet she knows how to make cakes, she certainly knows how to eat them."

"What is this witch doing?" Beatrice shoves the book towards Medusa. Each of the stations in the club room is currently host to a cauldron, a book on domestic spells, a cook book and various cooking utensils. "It looks like she is trying not to poo."

A new face to the domestics club comes in. It's Myrus Lowe. Since the other day, he's been quiet and a little less broody. When he comes in, he's told to find himself a spot(?) and the first place he can find is to partner with Doris. "Hello, Myrus Lowe." He introduces himself, don't think he's properly met Doris before.

Doris looks to Myrus as he enters. As he approaches her she starts to play with her hair. "Doris Whitworth" she says. "Are you any good at cooking?" she continues as she places her hand on his arm, gently.

Medusa looks at Doris, she doesn't know any fat little 'puffs, but then a lot of little kids run when they see her. Some even do muppet arms and then run. The corner of the book pokes her arm and she turns towards Beatrice, "Huh?" Peering at the book Medusa reads the description then laughs at the photo. "She does look like she is trying not to go to the toilet, but she is meant to be getting rid of pesky piskepies."

Some of the more regular members of the Domestics Club eye the four newcomers with a bit of suspicion, especially Medusa who was known to have been a member briefly in her second year only to fade away after a few months.

From the back of the classroom comes a smaller voice, piercing in it's nature, but as sweet of a tone as sugar, laced with rainbows and blood curdling undertones of bitterbutter. "Brotheerr~ How is your worm farm doing?"
Myrus tries to ignore Scarlet, other than a wave, and he looks at Doris, "Um, actually- I do." And he looks at what they have to work with. "I used to help my mother make them for parties for my sister and her friends. Well, cupcakes, but same idea I guess." ANd he would grab the book on the table, and flip through it. "What kind? Is that the lesson? I got here a little late, first time in a club meeting." He smiles kindly to Doris, and sees Medusa, but fails to give her any real greeting for now.

Madam Patil taps her wand against the blackboard and the recipe she wishes everyone to follow for the afternoon begins to appear as the chalk writes it out for her. It is Doris' lucky day, they are going to make a celebration cake. Oh, if only that pudgy Hufflepuff were here.

Doris giggles and leans closer to Myrus…..a little too close "Well, let's see what we can cook up together!" she winks at him and looks into his eyes.

Beatrice eyes Doris and admires the way the blonde Gryffindor is working on the boy. She grins and is about to say something when Scarlet pipes up. Her red head turns towards the younger Slytherin and leaning into Medusa, Beatrice whispers something.

Whatever it was has Medusa glancing back and giving Scarlet an appraising look before returning her attention to the book of spells. "Let's see if we can make this cake then, Bea. It'd be nice to surprise Douglas. He thinks I'll never be able to cook." Which may just be while the seventh year really is here.

Myrus leans back a little when Doris leans in, "Uhm, sure." He was trying to be nice today. So he smiles at her kindly. And he looks at the blackboard, "Oh look, there's the recipe!" He says, and goes to beginning the preparation. He looked like he at least knew his way around a kitchen setting.

Madam Patil walks around, offering help to people who need it and keeping an eye on the four new arrivals to her fun little club, but otherwise keeping to the background and letting students enjoy themselves.

Doris is not very subtle when it comes to selecting ingredients. In-fact she's not very subtle about anything with this new boy in her sights. She reaches round him to pick up and ingredient, consciously pressing her body against him as she does. "Excuse me" she says softly in his ear as she presses her weight against him.

Doris' movements are mostly avoided by Myrus. One or two times she bumps (more like presses?) into him and he takes that split second too long and the physical proximity causes him to step back in somewhat of an obvious manner. Be it nerves, unconcious unacceptance of the closeness, or just trying not to seem creepy. This is totally the imperfect situation for him, as he was trying -not- to seem creepy.. now it might seem like he's getting in her way on purpose.
"Sheesh, Myrus, give a girl some space, will ya~?" Scarlet spurts from a few tables back. Some snickers from other girls. Majority of girls in the class…
It almost seems like everyone except Myrus here is a girl… great. -.-

And all this happening even though Myrus was trying -so- hard to just focus on making the cake.

"Sure, but I want some cake for Selwyn," states Beatrice as she begins to tie on her apron. Unlike Medusa's apron with the prancing unicorns, Beatrice has one with Irish jig dancing leprachauns. Nothing like a bit of casual racism on a twee apron. "What kind of sprinkles shall we have? There are a lot of sprinkles." She peers at the jars and begins gathering ones that sound fun. Fizzing sherberts. Jumping jelly beans. Chocolate snaps.

Medusa gives Myrus a glance when his sister sniggers from the back, "Careful there, don't let him knock you over and pin you to the floor," she advises Doris with a snigger of her own. "Right Bea, let's bake." With that the two seventh year cousins start to set up their ingredients.

Doris turns to Myrus as they continue to work "You're not that kind of a boy are you?" she asks with a wink. As she does she attempts to place a hand on his thigh. "Are we ready for the baking?" she says as she licks come of the cake mixture from her fingers.

Myrus tenses a little when she grabs his thigh, and he looks at her wide-eyed. "No.. no I'm not." He says in a forcible whisper with a glare given to Medusa, then back to Scarlet. Not a worse combination in the entire school to be in this room right now to make him look more like a lecher.
He reaches to take Doris' hand, at least pulling it off of his leg and letting go of it back next to her where it would naturally hang at her side.
"Look, he's holding her hand now.." Scarlet commentary. She's watching like a hawk, with a front row seat at the table right behind the two 'flirtatious cooks'.

Myrus wasn't even done moving her hand when the comment came, and he quickly lets go of her hand and looks behind him, "Scarlet. Shut. Up."

For all that she is a bit dippy, Beatrice is also mean at times and enjoys the discomfort of others. Sensing Myrus' discomfort she begins to hum a popular wizarding love song, briefly breaking out into the chorus. "And she smiled at me and she held my hand….oh beautiful witch…" Beatrice Nott, providing ambiance for Domestics Club romances since 1938.

Doris manages to just keep hold of his hand as he grabs hers, despite his attempts to let go. She looks into his eyes and says. "So…are we making it chocolate?" she leans closer to him "I do like chocolate!"

Medusa rolls her eyes at her cousin's antics and starts to follow the recipe. Since her stint in Domestics back in the second year Medusa has become much better at potions and cooking is a lot like potions. At least here she doesn't have Douglas trying to stroke her knee and distracting her, just Beatrice's singing. "Pass the sugar, Bea."

Beatrice's humming gets Myrus to look at -her- now with that same.. now a little more angered.. look of his. But Doris was now holding his hand, and he looks at her with wide eyes of surprise, leaning his head back when she stares at him. "Fine, fine chocolate!" He raises his voice a little bit, trying to pull his hand free, and he bellies up to their table, making sure she couldn't bump him from the front, so he's not the active one percieved to do anything. Hopefully. He begins reaching across the table (-not- over her, ensuring he doesn't reach across her to get anything) "Can you hand me that-?" he points at the flour whisker, that makes the flour fluffy into the measuring cup. Usually messy, but Myrus actually does it without spilling too too much.
Scarlet doesn't stop making comments, but she joins in on the song, too… maybe some others do as well. Making Myrus turn red with anger, putting his palms heavily down on the table, staring straight ahead.

Madam Patil starts to joing in the singing until a quiet Hufflepuff points out the singing is to tease the new boy. "Oh." Clapping her hands she draws attention to herself. "Concentrate on your work children, we don't want messy cakes. A tidy kitchen is a happy kitchen!"

Doris looks to Bea as she sings. Doris approves. Sometimes her behaviour gets her a cuddle, or even a kiss. Sometimes it's just fun to wind the boys up. Which outcome will this be? "Oh look!" she says to Myrus "You got a little flour on your trousers! Here, let me help you dust that off!" she says, reaching towards him.

Before the singing comes to a stop Beatrice all but abandons Medusa and is dancing with a little Ravenclaw boy. He looks awed to be dancing with Marshmallow Nott, even the third year has heard of her. "Aww," they both chime as Patil calls the singing to a halt. As Beatrice goes back to her cousin in time to pass the sugar canister the boy trips back to his partner.

Accepting the sugar Medusa measures it out carefully and adds it to the bowl. She glances over at the spell book and finds that the magic used for cooking is a lot like that used in potions. Tapping her wand against the bowl she sets things to mixing. "Madam Patil, are there cookbooks in the library?" Unbeknownst to her Medusa has just started a conversation which may take hours for her to extract herself from as Madam Patil begins to discuss the many varied cookbooks contained in the vast library at Hogwarts.

Beatrice glances over to see Doris' progress with Myrus and bursts out laughing. She has to cover her face with her hands after seeing the deer caught in the headlights look on the Ravenclaw's face.

Myrus reaches down to grab her by the wrist, lifting her hand and placing it on the table. "No, I don't. And if I did, I can get it myself at the end of class. Now, if you don't mind, hand me the butter.. and don't drop it." A commanding tone in his voice. More manly. Man up, the boy did just now.
It would be interesting, but Myrus was able to follow the recipe to the letter, if not perfect in every way, it was quite good by the time he was done. An odd combination, ability to talk like that, command without yelling (even if it's just this one time he's talked like that), -and- bake a cake. And darnit he's going to eat it, too!

Doris leans towards the boy, attempting to rest her head on his shoulder "You're so manly!" she says. "Sometimes being told off is fun!" she says as she looks to the bench. "And afterwards we get to share cake!"

Madam Patil sees Medusa's eyes glaze over and moves on to check on the next pair. "How are you two getting on?" She smiles at Doris and Myrus. "One of you has clearly done this before. Look how far you are!" She seems pleased with them.

Medusa shakes herself out of her reverie. Yummy Scottish boys in kilts. She turns her attention back to her cooking and checks the list of ingredients. Adding the last one she then goes to check on the cauldron. "Beatrice, are you going to come to Alphard's party?"

Emily has put her schoolwork aside to do something relatively fun. Enough of studying, for now, the young girl has decided to check in on the club room. And, ooooh, the child's eyes sparkle as they catch sight of the room. Baking? Something yummy? There's a giggle at the door as the child steps in, and she pipes up, "Oh!" Hmmm. Her hazel eyes glance to Madam Patil, and Emily starts to walk in a sneak-like way, not that she's being all that stealthy. "Can I help?" she says in a loud whisper (not really being all quiet) as she tilts back her head up to the seventh year housemate. She beams brightly.

Myrus looks at Doris leaning her head on his shoulder. Talk about the 'cold shoulder'. "Please don't do that." He asks flatly, and continues making the cake.
"Look at the cute couple," Scarlet says with a little girlish giggle, "Dweedle sure won't be happy to hear that he's moved on without telling her, will she?"
Some gasps at the tense revalation to some in the room. As Myrus' eyes snap wide again, frozen stiff as a corpse, staring at the board and he stopped stirring the batter immediately.

Doris tries to tap his chest, holding each pat a little longer than necessary. "There, there. No need to be so quick to make your mind up. Let me give you something to think about before you dismiss me altogether!"

Myrus is distracted and looks at Madam Patil. "Thank you, Madam Patil, I used to help my mom." Still kinda stunned by Scarlet's comment, he starts to stir a little again, slowly. Doris' tapping of his chest gets a little shrug of his shoulder, like she had cooties or something. Nonverbal dismissal.

Madam Patil eyes Doris suspiciously. "Miss Whitworth is it? I think you will learn far more keeping your hands to yourself."

Doris looks to Madam Patil. "Yes, of course Madam Patil." she says "I was only trying to help. I've never done magic cooking before, and he's soooooo helpful! I've learned a lot!" as she says this she gazes at the boy "Aren't you Myrus?" she asks.

Beatrice looks down at Emily. "You're the girl that got into the fight in the common room aren't you?" She dips a fingertip in the cake mix and licks it off. "Merlin's icy cold shriveled ones that is good!" Her eyes widen and she looks at Medusa, "Don't cook it - er bake it. Let's just eat it as it is. That's loads better than any cake. Think you can have jelly with it like this?"

Myrus looks at the bowl he's stirring, looks about good. Taste test! He sets the bowl down and takes the stirring impliment out, drizzling a littl bit into his finger (can't contaminate the mix!) and brings it towards his mouth to taste it. He's trying to ignore Doris, testing the batter would do well enough for now.

Doris stretches her head forwards, she is hoping to lick the mixture from his finger before it reaches his mouth.

Medusa gives Emily a side long glance as she checks the temperature of the cauldron. "No Bea, we have to cook it. I can't impress people with a bowl of cake batter." She sets out the greased tin and nudges her cousin aside to take the bowl from her. Just to be nice she leaves a little bit in the bowl for Beatrice and maybe Emily to lick too. One more look at the recipe and Medusa is placing the cake in the cauldron.

"My cousin," Emily responds as Beatrice brings up the fight. "He's an idiot." She places a hand to her hip, tilting her head as she sighs heavily. But boys usually are, so! Speaking of boys, her eyes drift towards the fifth year, who she remembers meeting briefly outside the Great Hall, recalling some words as her eyes narrow suspiciously. And she lets out a snicker. "Where's the frilly pink apron? Shouldn't he be wearing a frilly pink apron?" At Doris? Eh. She doesn't know her! But she does cause the child to stick out her tongue and screw up her face. Ew! What is /wrong/ with older students!?

Myrus gets his hand to his mouth before Doris was able to get at it. He makes a face at her attempt, looking at her as he gets the end of his digit into his mouth, and nods. "Ok, it's ready I think."
He lifts the bowl over the cake cooker cauldron (such a thing?) and he scrapes as much as he can into it, setting the bowl down in front of Doris. "Here, you want some? Have it." He wasn't very amused at the moment.
He leans his head down to check the flames under the now baking cake.

Doris looks disappointed that she wasn't allowed to lick his finger, but is glad of the cake mixture. She leans towards him in an attempt to place a kiss on his cheek before tucking into the mixture that is left in the bowl.

He turns his head at that moment to look at Emily. He wasn't wearing an apron, but he didn't have anything that had spilled on him. "No. Go bug someone else." And he looks back to the flames, satisfied with it's height, and now it's a waiting game as he crosses his arms.

Beatrice cackles when little Emily mentions a pink frilly apron for Myrus. "You are right, he needs one." She promptly goes off to find the girliest apron ever in order to give to Myrus. So many aprons to chose from. The one she does select in the end has hearts blowing kisses at one another. Sidling up to Myrus and Dorus Beatrice thrusts the apron at the boy. "Madam Patil said you need to wear this." Doris is given a less garish apron, one with counting numbers.

Medusa just shakes her head, letting Beatrice have her fun. "A lot of boys are smelly," she tells Emily. "Find yourself a Macmillan. They bathe twice a day. Family tradition." For some reason that has her smirking as she begins to prepare the frosting.

Myrus recoils from the kiss from Doris, reaching his forearm up to rub the sleeve of his robe on his cheek. Apparently he got some batter on his sleeve, as a streak of light brown batter lines his cheek nearly from ear to nose. "What the heck are you doing?!" He would then probably bump into Emily behind him, turning around, seeing the apron. He looks frustrated, to say the least.
Scarlet from the table behind Myrus' and DOris' table pipes up again, "Myrus, snogging in domestics class is -quite- undomesticated. Stop being such an animal. Aren't you dating Elizabeth still? My my, a cheater, too! Cheater~ Cheater~" She starts chanting in an almost derrogatory way like he was a terrible person or something.

Doris takes the apron from Emily, as she hears Scarlet speak. "Elizabeth? You never said you had a girlfriend!" she shouts at him "You're just like all the other boys!" she continues "Leading me on like that…..that's just nasty!" she throws the apron that Emily has given her in Myrus's face and goes to stand with Scarlett "Is he always like that?" she asks, as she forces a tear to run down her face.

Emily snickers as she gets a reply from Myrus, but then Beatrice delights the child. Her eyes light up, and she giggles, watching the seventh year pass the aprons off to Myrus and Dorus. Both her hands lift to cup in front of her mouth as she giggles. She clears her throat a she lowers her hands, pulling her face into a more solemn look at Myrus. "/Wear/ it," she says in a hushed voice. "Or youuuu'll be in trooouuuble." Looking to Medusa, she pulls a face, shaking her head. "/All/ the boys in my year are disgusting. Playing with gross things out on the grounds, and then they try to /touch/ you without washing their hands. /Gross/."

Beatrice thrusts the apron at Myrus, "If you had been wearing an apron you wouldn't have got that on your robes." She tuts and shakes her head then looks at Doris, "You poor thing. Was this mean boy leading you on? You should tell everybody."

Madam Patil peers at Medusa's cake as it bakes and looks pleasantly surprised by the fact it is…not exploding or doing anything it shouldn't. She glances at Medusa as if to double check this is in fact Medusa Malfoy. Hearing the commotion behind her she goes to investigate, giving Medusa and her cake a last lingering look. "What is going on?!" She plants her hands on her hips and stares at Doris, Emily, Beatrice and Myrus.

Scarlet says, "Ohhh, darling girl, come here~" and she offers a sincere (enough) hug to Doris for comfort, offering Beatrice a spot to help console the poor, poor girl that just got her heart broken. "Yes, yes, boys are all the same, you'll learn this more and more." Casting a knowing look at Myrus, that she's not going to let up.
Though Myrus doesn't see the look. He snatches the apron from the offering hand, "Get what where?" He doesn't even notice the batter on his face, as the chocolate that was there rubbed off onto him and the rest was now pressed into the material deep enough not to really show out from the grey sleeve. He looks up at Madam Patil, but before he can say anything, Scarlet points at Myrus from where she would probably be holding Doris by this point and patting her back in support, "Myrus, my disturbed brother, was leading poor Doris on. It's not her fault he's got a silvered tongue, Madame Patil!" Accusing point. Point! Glare!

Doris buries her head into her sleeves and makes sobbing noises. "I am going to make sure everyone hears of this!" he looks to Madam Patil "Some boys just think girls are toys they can do what they want with Miss!" her face shows no actual signs of being upset, other than an obviously forced frown.

Medusa shakes her head, pleased for once to not be part of the drama going on. Not that anybody would likely believe it even if it is true. She hums the song Beatrice was singing earlier, working to make the icing for the cake she's made largely on her own.

Beatrice glares at Myrus, "I think this boy was being unkind to the poor girl, Madam Patil. Look how he's made her cry." As she slips a protective arm around Doris, trying along with Scarlet, to comfort the poor Gryffindor Beatrice lowers her redhead and whispers to Doris, encouraging the girl to sob a little for greater affect.

Scarlet continues to console Doris, "There there."
Myrus on the other hand, begins to protest to Madam Doris, "No, that's not what happened! -She- was trying to kiss -me-, I don't want anything to do with her!" Gesturing behind him, "She… that's.." hands up in front of him, then he starts going to making the icing knowing if he gets any more frustrated, he'll be doing someting that might actually be his fault. So he makes the icing quietly, "I didn't do anything…" he mutters.

Madam Patil looks between Doris and Myrus, then back again. While the boy is messy and flustered the girl looks more upset somehow. "I think it would be better if you worked on your own, young man." She turns to the girls, "Maybe you can escort, Miss Whitworth to the front? There is a cake up there which I made earlier, you can all have some of it and nice glasses of milk." Doris is given a gentle smile, "Wouldn't that be nice, dear?"

Doris forces some sobbing noises now "Yes Miss!" she replies "He's just so mean!" she wails. "He's got a girlfriend and he was like……" her voice trails off into sobs as she sits at the front of the class and begins to much on the cake.

Emily doesn't care about all that Doris, Myrus, nonsense, she just wants to see Myrus wear the apron! So as she looks up at Doris she rolls her eyes, and falls silent when Madam Patil nears, looking at the faces of Myrus, Beatrice, and Patil curiously.

Myrus might have thought some of this came from Madam Patil about the apron. He looks around, everyone else was wearing one. He didn't see the rack in the back of the classroom, since this was his first time in here for domestics club. So he puts it on, and continues making the frosting while the batter finishes baking into the cake.
Scarlet gives him a scolding look as she helps the frantic Doris to the front, and sits next to her, still calmly rubbing her back and give her supporting tidbits.

Cake! Beatrice is really only here for the cake. She does however take delight in sniggering at Myrus. "I wish I had my camera," she states and then heads back over to Medusa, leaving Scarlet to comfort the cake eating Doris. "Is that ready yet, 'Dusa?"

A suggestion from somewhere in the room from an unseen person, "Madman Myrus shouldn't get any cake!"

"Not quite, but nearly," Medusa was just testing the cake's springiness and doing the whole toothpick thing. "Are you done picking on Lowe for now?" Hearing the suggestion that Myrus be banned from eating his own cake Medusa just laughs.

"Nonsense," says Madam Patil. She's too nice really. "He worked on the cake, he deserves to eat some." She checks on a few people and their work. "Oh dear, Robbie, that cake looks wonky. Never fear, I'm sure you and Gary can put some icing on it and make it look nice." She gives the two second years an encouraging smile and moves on to check on a few others.

Doris continues to eat the cake, shooting the occasional wink at Scarlet so she can be sure she is in on the joke. "Would you like some Scarlett?" she says?

And Emily giggles when Myrus puts on the apron. "Just a little extra protection from getting dirty," she quips with a snicker. Emily tilts her head up at Beatrice, beaming energetically up at the older housemate. Yes, she likes this seventh year. She's fun!

Beatrice glances at Myrus and then back at Medusa, "I don't see it personally. Looks too moody for me. Who wants a soppy moody boy anyhow? Always having to cheer them up, pretend to care about what they like. Boooriiing." She begins to amuse herself with the domestic magic book again. "There is a spell for getting your loo sparkling fresh. One for dusting too." She lowers her voice so that only Medusa can hear her, "Think it might be Dust Fuckoffio?"

Myrus keeps to himself mostly for now, ignoring any comments or jeers he may get. The thing about him not getting any cake doesn't fall on his ears, in truth. But it might as well have, since once he's done with the icing, the cake is about ready, he checks it with a fork in and around the middle. He gets his gloves on, takes it off of the fire, which he snuffs quickly after that, and the icing, he takes it out of the cup with a spoon after it's done setting a little in the cup, and he smears it in an odd manner. Three swipes, left right left to cover the whole top (with a few parts of magical chocolate cake peeking through at a couple places) and he looks at it. Roughly done, but it looks eh.. decent. He reaches to untie the apron from behind him, pulls it off of his shoulders, and folds it up and sets it on an empty part of his table. He would head towards the door without a word other than ones to Madam Patil to retract his application to the domestics club, but he'd do that in her office, not here, and from the office, leave outright (if not an office in hushed tones before he just leaves).
Scarlet, oddly, goes back to her table once Doris is content with cake, and continues like Myrus wasn't even there until the end of the club meeting.

Medusa snickers at her cousin. She carefully sets the cake on its cooling plate and after snagging the book from Beatrice finds the commands to use the plate. Once done the cake is iced and Beatrice's many odd toppings are added before it is cut in half to be shared between the two cousins and their respective friends.

Doris smiles smugly as he leaves, and her face looks more happy. She smiles and continues to eat her cake, finishing off one final bite, and laying down her fork with a smile.

When it seems as if everyone is wrapping up Madam Patil helps with the cleaning, she is a deft hand at those kind of spells. "Thank you all for coming. Scarlet, do please invite your brother to return again. We can find him another partner. Perhaps Lavendia?" Lavendia who has a wonky eye and a wart already at thirteen.

Scene fades to black.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License