kitchen_maid | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's a perfect day for a picnic, and so Amy and Meg have decided to hold their practice picnic today, out at the edge of the woods, not too far from the lake. Amy has assembled a picnic basket and brought along the squirrels and Peter Aurelious. Meg has brought a carpet, a violently pink carpet covered in teddy bears, which, at the moment, they are simply using instead of a picnic blanket.

Mr. Pemberthy and Simon Perryvall are busy investigating a teacup sized hole in one corner of the carpet, but as soon as Amy starts unpacking food from the basket, they will probably lose interest in it.

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*To some, it might be worth the violent pink in order to be able to officially have a Teddy Bear's Picnic anyways.

Unfortunately, this reference would be lost on both Meg and Amy. Meg just honestly does like the color.*

- I really am impressed, *Meg says, squinting down as Amy starts to unpack the basket.*

Who knew you could fit a teakettle in there?

Amy pushes the brim of her hat back a bit and looks up at Meg.

"Well, it's a very large picnic basket," says Amy, unpacking several sandwiches, a half dozen plums, and a peach pie and adding them to the other things already on the carpet. "Besides, just because it's a picnic doesn't mean we shouldn't be civilized."

She produces a coffee press and hands it to Meg.

I could have just brought my magic mug, *Meg says, laughing, but accepts the coffee press.*

You do know I don't actually know how to make coffee, oui? I mean, I usually let other people make it for me. Like Bar. And then drink it. Can we boil water out here?

"I . . . I don't know," admits Amy. "But I have grape juice!"

She puts the tea kettle back in the basket and produces a bottle of juice.

*Meg beams.*

Almost like wine, and with less risk of burning down the entire back forest - grape juice it is! Though I guess we are right next to the lake, so we could probably put out a fire if we had to -

Amy bites her lip and considers. "Well, probably," she says. "But I think not having to is best."

She eyes the squirrels.

"Especially since they would probably not be very much help."

They might chip in, *Meg offers, pouring grape juice into one of the teacups.*

You know, for the sake of the acorns.

*She sets the teacup down on a saucer, cautiously, and beams as it stands up straight.*

- you know, these cups actually work really well? Without the saucers they'd never have balanced on the grass -

Simon Perryvall jumps a bit at the word "acorn" and Amy hands him an crust of one of the sandwiches.

"Teacups are handy that way," agrees Amy. "Even for grape juice."

She finds several small pink cakes that almost appear to be decorated to look like tutus.

"I think these must be for you," she says, handing them to Meg.

*Meg twirls the cake in her fingers, squinting at it.*

It's very pretty, *she says.* Almost to pretty to actually eat. It looks like it should be under glass or something -

*A beat; then a cheerful shrug.*

Eh bien. *She nibbles on a corner of the cake before setting it down on the saucer, in order to lick the smears of pink icing off her fingers.*

What are the ones for you shaped like?

Amy rummages a bit more, and then her eyes widen a bit.

She produces a pale amethyst colored cake that appears to be wearing a spun sugar tiara.

"Errrrr."

*With a great effort, Meg keeps a straight face.

Oh so very solemnly:* It looks just like you!

You know. If you were a square.

"Thank you," says Amy, primly, then grins. "It is a very pretty cake."

She sets it on the edge of her saucer, and chooses a sandwich instead.

"Sandwich?" she offers, holding a plate out to Meg.

*Meg waves a hand, airily.*

The cake'll hold me for a bit, *she says, and picks it up again to daintily nibble off another corner.

Idly:* Do you think demon bunnies like cucumber sandwiches?

"I certainly hope not," says Amy, eyeing the cucumber sandwich she's eaten half of a little suspiciously.

"We shall just have to count on Peter Aurelious to warn us about any encroaching cucumber-sandwich-stealing demom bunnies."

*Meg opens her mouth, and then wisely takes a bite of cake before the next comment that comes into her head - namely, that on second thought the demon bunnies are more likely to try to steal Peter Aurelious than the cucumber sandwiches - has a chance to emerge.*

Mmmffff, *she says instead, in an encouraging tone, around a mouthful of cake.*

Fortunately, Peter Aurelious has one advantage over the demon bunnies. He can fly.

Of course, so can the carpet they're having this picnic on.

"Meg? Are you all right?"

*Meg swallows the cake hastily.*

- sugar, *she explains, a little weakly.* Caught in my throat. It's very - er - sugary.

Amy refills Meg's teacup of juice, still looking rather concerned.

"Maybe you should try a sandwich."

Maybe, *Meg agrees, putting the half-a-cake down again.*

I mean, I know it's not really tulle, and it really does taste quite good, but I'm sure tutus can't really be good for you regardless -

*She picks up a cucumber sandwich, and proceeds to nibble at it - taking even smaller bites than with the cake, if possible.*

"I'm honestly a little afraid of the tiara," says Amy, eyes the cake again and then selecting the tiara.

It appeare to be a case of you wear what you eat, after all.

"But uit really is a perfect day for this, isn't it?"

Oh, bien sur, *Meg agrees, looking up at the sky.*

I wonder how it gets to be so nice here always - I mean, the backyard I think is technically supposed to be Scotland, and England's supposed to be rainy, isn't it? But we get nice sunny weather; maybe it's just Milliways magic or something.

"I never really thought about it," says Amy, who lives in a fairy tale where it never rains when it is inconvenient.

"But I'm glad it's not all fog and rain. That would be gloomy."

Explains a lot about the English, doesn't it? *Meg says, and takes another smug bite of sandwich.*

In Paris, now, even when it rains it's romantic rain.

Amy thinks. "Well, I certainly think it explains the tea," she concedes.

"What makes rain romantic?"

*Meg waves a hand vaguely.*

It's just a certain - je ne sais quoi. Ambience, maybe.