RP:Of Muffins and Madness, part I

Before Angelo or Cornelius even have time to react, Taikahn appears and sweeps them up into an adventure in another world, an adventure fraught with peril of a most delicious kind...

The RP

Angelo had left the inn not minutes earlier, yawning profusely all the way to Kelay Tavern. He mumbled and grumbled; he was happy, there was no mistaking that, but he looked...drained. There were no shadows clustering around his feet, no illusory mask graced his features...nothing. Just a very tired Angelo. He stepped into the clearing near the tavern and stopped to lean on a tree, yawning again...by the gods, he was tired.

Cornelius was passing through Kelay to resupply for another hike, and had just stepped out of one of the shops with a new frying pan, sturdy wooden spoon, and a magnificently robust soup ladle - the last having proven fragile, bending on the skull of a curious badger. The gentleman appears slightly pallid and wan, a slight limp hinting at recent injury. The longsword hitched to his back is somewhat incongruous with his pack and cooking apparatus. Each step Cornelius takes out of the shop is accompanied by the slight click-and-clank of the dwarven-designed and elaborately engraved suit of light plate he wears. A black leather satchel rests against his right hip, and a spread-winged raven is emblazoned in engravings upon his cuirass. He stops a moment to enjoy the fresh air while determining where to travel to next.

Taikahn didn't have much time. He was pinned down, and every escape route was closing, but he'd discovered something terrible and needed to put a stop to it. Unfortunately, even with his full suit of armor, he couldn't do it alone and in this situation. He whipped out his portal cube and triggered it moments before the fourth-wave snares were cast around him and appeared in his basement. He dashed over to a display, looked it over, nodded once to himself--that would have to do--and grabbed a weapon from his shelf and slammed the portal cube again, this time appearing right between Cornelius and Angelo. He was wearing his suit of battle armor--flat, non-reflective black, full plate, dragonskull-styled helmet, long black studded cape. The suit had a holster at one hip and a sheath for a curved sword on one arm, and the other arm had those characteristic glass domes. Each arm also had a hose running down it with a nozzle mounted to the wrist. Oh, and he was carrying something that looked like a medium-sized cannon with a crossbow hilt. Taik looked both ways and nodded again, and opened the jaws of the helm, revealing himself. "Angelo, Cornelius, glad I could find you both here. I need you for something quite urgent and we need to go before they track me here."

Angelo snaps his gaze over to Taikahn, jaw dropping as was usual with his unexpected appearances. He pushed himself off the tree and took a few bleary steps forward, trying to shake himself awake. "Of cuh...course...what do you need, Taikahn? Is it about that thing we spoke of on the beach? Something else?...please say 'tis something relatively sane. And corporeal. -Please-."

Cornelius blinks, looks at Taikahn's armaments, and then back at his new Ladle. "What did I ever do to deserve this? Very well old bean, Tally ho!"

Taikahn waved the both of them closer and would attempt to hand the cannon-thing off to Angelo. "Depends, and mostly, Angelo. Take this, you'll need it." Once they were both close enough, Taik would once more activate his portal box and there would be a distinct sensation of falling, but not down or sideways--rather, it was in a direction that had no translatable word. All sense of time would be lost as waves of shifting color twirled soundlessly about them--were they traveling this way for minutes? Eons? A single instant? Impossible to tell, though it would be merely a few seconds they were in there.

Angelo takes the cannon that was thrust into his hands, looking it over briefly. He then looks at Taikahn again, now -definitely- wide awake and -definitely- worried. "Wait, what do you mean 'mostly'!? What in the huuuuuurrrk..." And there it was...that...shenanigany sensastion. Eurgh. He still hadn't gotten used to it.

Cornelius is rather glad he hadn't eaten yet. The sensation was unpleasant, although in a different way to the Black Portal to Vailkrin. At least he wasn't getting the nightma....why are the colours backwards? There are some moments when having a finely tuned sense of direction is a curse, and this moment of transition was one of them. Cornelius prayed for terra firma to arrive soon

Taikahn: The colors came to a stop on a bizarre alien landscape. The ground was soft and squishy, and brownish with occasional black lumps in it. The sky was covered in strange black clouds, and open volcanoes erupted on the horizon. Taik took a deep breath and shivered. "I'm going to hate the smell of sugar after this. Come on, the longer we stand still the more the ground can latch onto us." And indeed, by that point the soft, sticky ground had started creeping up towards their ankles. Taik began walking... that way. *points* "Where would you like me to start, the beginning or the objective?"

Angelo began to follow Taikahn, hefting the cannon around like it was the only thing keeping him grounded to Hollow. "Well...what does this thing do, and what are we doing here?"

Cornelius grimaces at less-than-solid terrain beneath his feet "Terra Firma my left foot. Where in the blazes are we? You can start with that old bean!" The armoured dandy experiments with a light forwards jump to test the resilience of the surface he stood on. There was, after all, a large Preklek close by to hook onto with his ladle if the ground wasn't as solid as expected.

Taikahn decided to start with the simplest explanation and move towards the more complex ones as they walked. Cornelius would find the ground to accept his foot and almost pull it in, but there would be a bit of surface tension at first that he could use to pull out. "We're on a world in an alternate dimension that has an infestation I accidentally created. We're here to stop the project they've started. And that thing compresses particles in the air into a hyperdense singularity and fires it, then subsequently blows it up. It'll smash through anything and everything in its path. So be careful and don't overcharge it. You'll get frozen in time from the gravitation waves. Next wave of questions, or shall I tell a story?"

Angelo blinks...well. It certainly sounded fantastic. This should be fun. "Start the story...but please, -please- tell me this thing will work in Hollow. I'm looking for a certain drow, you see..." He grinned wickedly.

Cornelius retrieves his foot from the ground's grasp with a slight 'splop' and takes a deep breath. Chocolate. Why on earth could he smell chocolate. "Why on earth can I smell chocolate, Taikahn. I've got a craving for a nice cup of Earl Grey now." He gestures at the ground with his ladle "Why is the ground so damned clingy? Do you know how hard it will be to clean this armour?" Culture shock affects people in different ways. Cornelius, not normally a victim of the old 'fish-out-of-water' syndrome, responds with a veritable tsunami of questions, frying pan and ladle making him resemble a steel-plated chef.

Taikahn answered the questions first and the story second, beginning to scan the skies as he walked. "The chocolate is from the ground. Or possibly incoming scones. Watch out for those, by the way, they try to suffocate you to death. The ground is clingy because it's alive. If I told you it works in Hollow, I'd be lying, and if it did you couldn't keep it. And now the story." He took a deep breath. "A while back, I tried baking some muffins with a new kind of yeast. It... didn't work. The muffins were large and hostile and attacked me. I lured them to Hollow where I hoped the change in reality would kill them, but they adapted and somehow the portal travel gave them the ability to open portals of their own." Pause for breath. "Some escaped, and must have discovered this place. Later, I was attacked by another muffin--of a different flavor than the kind I originally baked. And then another, of still a different kind. So far I've counted four separate strains of muffin including the kind I made, and none of them are friendly. And I recently detected some massive void surges here, which led me to believe there was some kind of big project happening. I was right--they've got a huge baking area set up and they've gathered a huge amount of ingredients. I think they're trying to bake a supermuffin." Pause for breath. "And so we've got to delay the baking of said muffin."

Angelo lowered the weapon, his jaw dropping as, with one hand, he facepalmed. "Oh gods...-that's- why you mentioned muffins thato ne time...oh by the gods, you weren't kidding around. How in the hell did you even...you know what? No." He hoisted the weapon again and nodded with grim determination; odd, considering the circumstances. "We have sentient, angry muffins to kill."

Cornelius blinks, then speaks in a bemused matter-of-fact way "I knew the stress would eventually get to me. I've gone mad." He plunges his ladle into a patch of chocolatey ground, and tries a little bit of it. "Well, in for a copper, in for a gold. If I'm insane, I might as well enjoy myself. Hmm. Not too bad." He looks around "Suffocation you say? Well, we cannot be having that!" Reaching into his satchel he pulls out a leather apparatus which smells vaguely of ...rat. Affixing the goggled device to his face, he looks less like an armoured chef, and more like, well, goodness knows what. The dandy's muffled voice comes from behind the apparatus "Well then chaps, let's get cooking! Anyone bring a kettle?"

Taikahn decided to hold off on the answers to the various things people were saying, and instead relay some vital information as they walked. Something flitted past, just for a moment, something nearly invisible in the corners of someone's eye, if they were looking left, which Taikahn was not. "As far as I know, the four types come down to this: grunt, ambush, guardian, and queen." As for whether he gets to say more, we'll see if anyone sees the flitting thing.

Angelo allowed his eyes to wander, humming a small tune to himself as he followed Taikahn and hefted this...thing. Whatever it was. And then, for a brief second, he saw it. He didn't know -what-, but Taikahn's words about 'ambush' set him on edge. "Erm...Taikahn...speaking of 'ambush'...I -swear- I just saw something fly past. Ridiculously fast. As in, I barely saw it. As in, I'm worried."

Cornelius may have determined that he was insane, but that didn't change years of finely-honed instincts and hard-wired muscle-memory. Flitting things, in the dandy assassin's experience, were invariably thrown daggers, and the sturdy frying pan in his left hand is swung up to intercept whatever had flown in their general direction. "Yes, yes, Jolly good show. Ambush in a land without bushes. I can see that. Which I can't. Why can I not see bushes. It's a quandary, my dear octopii, a true conundrum"

Taikahn: The frying pan intercepted nothing, but it did create an odd sizzling noise for a moment. Or maybe the sound came from someplace behind them. "Unusual," murmured Taikahn, stopping and turning a slow circle, watching. Another sizzling noise, and another. In the heat of the moment, the imagination might twist them into insane giggles. "This is new," Taik said, still turning, trying to focus on the things that were and weren't, moving just out of range of Corny's fryingpan and ladle. To the dandy, Taikahn said, "They've got camouflage, Cornelius, but this is something new."

Angelo taps the cannon knowingly, chuckling. "Oh...this will be fun. I can -tell-."

Cornelius examines the frying pan closely for a moment "I can hear them cooking, but I cannot see them. How am I meant to scramble eggs under these conditions?!" He starts lashing out with his ladle, as if to catch hold of one of the errant eggs which his dish would presumably require, guided by the taunting sounds of their giggling with the same precision and spatial awareness used to fight Kuzial in the drow's globe of darkness "What is this nonsense about camouflage? Some new kind of souffle? Without a proper souffle dish? You've lost it, man, completely lost it."

Taikahn shot Angelo a look for a moment, then returned his attention to the middle distance. Suddenly, from the side where Cornelius was presumably standing, there was a new sound, a hissing, gurbling sound that heralded nothing good. Looking over, one would see a tentacled muffin materialize out of what had previously been a flitter in the corner of their eyes. It flailed and crackled and rolled itself into a ball, picking up the doughy ground as it rolled and snowballing towards them, obviously intending to absorb them all into its delicious mass. Taikahn, naturally, leaped to the side, but was tackled by a second muffin that materialized out of nowhere and thrown to the ground. He struggled with it as he tried to roll out of the way of the Indiana Jones-esque monster rolling in on them...

Angelo aimed his cannon at the creature, grinning wickedly as it came towards them; he pulled the trigger on the underside of the cannon, chuckling at the pleasant hum it gave off before it fired a (certainly interesting) projectile towards the creature. Angelo hadn o idea what it would do, only that he had just slid back a few feet and that the device could turn the rampaging ball of muffin-y death into an even bigger one for all he knew. But it had to do -something-.

Cornelius || The armoured, gasmasked dandy, gives a muffled cheer "I say! Morning tea is served, wot!" and hooks pan and ladle to his belt while Taikahn wrestles with a muffin and Angelo plays with his crossbow-thing. A shift of stance and a graceful movement unhooks the longsword from its harness on his back. "Has anyone got any butter?" The 'butter knife' is an old Vailkrinni Langenschwert, a light and versatile two-handed sword with spikes on the crossguard, bearing also lugs two hand-spans past the guard, and a raven's head with a rather viciously pointed beak on the pommel. With the joy of a man who likes a good light repast, Cornelius steps out of the path of the rolling muffin and begins slashing at the muffin assaulting Taikahn, a graceful sequence of stance-shifting strikes which aim to sever the tentacles and allow Cornelius to get at the muffiny goodness beyond.

Taikahn: The projectile fired by Angelo's cannon was pitch-black and seemed to suck the light from the area as it flew, leaving a warped trail of darkness behind it. It slammed into the approaching snowball and simultaneously smashed it apart and slowed it down, sending globs of dough everywhere. The actual muffin on the inside suffered only minor damage, but as it hit the ground it crumbled apart and withered there, and the dough began to absorb it back into itself. Meanwhile, Taikahn was protected from the muffin's assault by his armor but the fact that it had shoved him into the cookie-dough had hampered his mobility, and it was only as Cornelius had begun swinging at it, removing over half its tentacles and leaving them twitching and strewn about that he started prying it apart. It shrieked and buzzed as creme filling began to leak onto the preklek and dandy. But it wasn't dead yet, even then--it tried to force itself away from them, shoving itself from Taikahn's grip and trying to roll away from Cornelius' sword-swings, even fatally wounded as it was. Taikahn took a deep breath and relaxed for a moment, then realized what was going on and clawed his way out of the dough with a yell.

Angelo cackled at the destruction of the muffin, throwing his fist into the air trumphantly before he ran over to make sure it was absolutely, positively dead. Which it wasn't, apparently. He took out the dagger from one of his vest pockets and brought it down towards the muffin, intending for a vicious stab to finally end it.

Cornelius pauses a moment and unhooks his gasmask briefly to try some of the Creme Filling "Egads, it's curdled! I hope the muffin itself is edible" Replacing his mask, the dandy trots after the muffin retreating from Taikahn, kicking a severed tentacle out of the way before it can flex around him. "Dammit, Taikahn, why is morning tea running away from me? And since when did muffins behave so impolitely? Deuced nuisance, wot" With that disgruntled sound, Cornelius levels a powerful slanting cut across the muffin, letting it cut through with a step before shifting his stance with a step to his left. A flick of his hips brings the blade back across the muffin horizontally in a powerful cleaving slash. The dandy will wait for signs of muffin death before commencing with meal preparation, of course. Assuming it stops moving, Cornelius would again unhook his mask, and try a bite of mad man's muffin.

Taikahn: The stab did practically nothing--having no central nervous system and no vital organs, the only thing an upward stab can do is let out steam. Which, in fact, it did--quite a burst of it. And then the already-dying baked good fell apart into crumbs. Meanwhile, Cornelius had thoroughly killed the other muffin and it lay in pieces on the ground. It would taste sweet--almost sickly sweet, like brown sugar and caramel. Nothing but calories, that flavor. Taikahn tried a bite, himself. "...pure sweetness," he said thoughtfully. "Flavor number five."

Angelo stumbled back at the sudden outburst, cursing loudly and trying to rub his eyes. "Son of a...damn muffins." He turned to Taikahn, grimacing. "Well, this was certainly amusing...-now- what?"

Cornelius munches appreciatively "Not quite the quality of Mrs Mallard, but one cannot complain." The dandy helps himself to some more muffin - he felt he could use the calories, all things considered.

Taikahn kept his feet moving as he looked for landmarks. "That scream was heard for miles, I'm sure. We've got to move a bit laterally--in that direction." He pointed off about sixty degrees from where they'd been heading the last time. "Once we get close enough, we can turn back on-course." He started walking again. "Let's hope we don't run into any more patrols of unknown flavors."

Angelo nodded, lifting the cannon and following Taikahn; he'd rather not die in...some...muffin world of sorts. So he was all ears. "Lead the way, maestro Taikahn."

Cornelius trundles along in bemused fashion, sword held at rest on his shoulder. The gentleman finishes off the sweet and dangerous delectable as only a man of good breeding and training can - elegantly and with nary a crumb dropped. "Unknown flavours, you say? Fascinating. Mind you, baking at sixty degrees is foolhardy at the best of times. The muffins would end up, at best, half-baked" The discombobulated dandy then enquires of Angelo "I say old bean, did you happen to bring a kettle?"

Taikahn nodded and did in fact lead the way, allowing himself to relax a bit now that that ordeal was over--he was still, of course, on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary, but he could still be amused at Cornelius' decision to let go of his grip on sanity for the time being. He remained quiet, allowing the others to talk.

Angelo said to Cornelius, "In hindsight, I wish I did; if I had known our opponents would be delicious, I most certainly would have."

Cornelius looks a bit glum before realising they didn't really have access to other equally essential materials for boiling a kettle of tea - such as wood for the fire. "Ah well, no matter my good man. I shall endure the hardship. But really, muffins with no tea - it's just not -done- in polite society. I am shocked and dismayed by the atrocious hospitality offered by this place." The dandy squelches along another couple of places "Also, lack of footpaths or carpets. I mean really, the cleaners must have a hard time of it". Another couple of steps and a further thought occurs to him "I hope they've got quick-tempered quiches around here. I'm not sure how I feel about muffins again for lunch."

Taikahn felt he ought to interject here. "If they do have some kind of quiche here, it's probably going to contain us as its chief ingredient. Won't be pleasant." They were making good time. One more round of posts ought to bring them to the check point.

Angelo chuckled, now allowing his shoulder to bear most of the cannons weight. "Lovely...a quiche made of Angelo. I'm certain that'd taste just fine..."

Cornelius gives that thought the consideration it is due. At length, after granting a nod to Angelo's assertion, the armoured dandy responds "Well, one cannot fault their taste in choosing me as an ingredient. I imagine the quiche would be quite delightful." Another pause "I can't for the life of me decide how they'd succeed though. I've not seen a seen of any cheese since we started this wonderful little sojourn. Let alone pastry" Adjusting his gasmask, Cornelius states "Frankly, my good fellows, the lack of preparation and proper mis-en-place in this place leaves me baffled. How did they get muffins baked to begin with?"

Taikahn winced at that last bit and neglected to remind them that he'd created the first batch, even though it was by accident. The turning point was up on a ridge, and looking down into the crater Taikahn let out a gasp and pointed. Down below was quite the swarm of muffins--big thick ones the size of Taikahn, smaller dark chocolate brown ones that seemed to be covered in black armor, blue-speckled ones and red-speckled ones and black-speckled ones and two gigantic stationary ones in the middle with swirls of red and orange. Taikahn swallowed hard. "Um." In the center of the arrangement was a large area carved out of stone. The large area was divided into smaller areas--it was a giant stone muffin-sheet. Many of the Taik-sized ones were dumping a massive amount of ingredients into the sheet. One section on the side was getting special treatment--a different set of ingredients were going in there, a more complex recipe was being created. "So this is their plan--not a supermuffin, but an army..."

Angelo followed Taikahn up the hill to see...oh. Goodness. "Well. This is...certainly a problem. Actually, it's...how in the hell do we solve -this-?"

Cornelius sighs "I'm not -that- hungry, dash it all." The dandy peers through the lenses of the gasmask then comments to Taikahn "No quiches, I regret to advise. I'm really not pleased with the lack of variety on the menu, old bean. You could have picked a better restaurant." He looks at the mass of muffins below and answers Angelo's question "Quite simply, dear albatross, we go into bulk catering. A cafe setup simply won't handle this quantity of product. We'll need a broker, of course, to put us in touch with decent prospective buyers. Not to mention some kind of logistics solution. Do you know of anyone who owns a bunch of carts?"

Taikahn attempted to pull them back behind a rock spire before they were spotted. "...I have no idea. There's no wa--" At that point there was a screaming noise from above and a small scone impaled itself into the rock right by Angelo's head, then reached out with a pseudopod for his neck. Other small chocolate scones began hurling themselves from the air and buzzing about them, and a large, lumbering brown-with-armor muffin followed behind them. Taikahn pulled a trigger on his right wrist and a jet of supercool water sprayed out and froze in midair to his wrist, forming a frozen, jagged sword of ice. He snapped it off with his left and and drew a different sword with his right hand--this one came from the scabbard on his left arm, and it burst forth from said sheath with an explosion and wailing cry like a thousand demons, flaming and dripping crimson blood though it had yet to shed any. Then Taikahn jumped away from the others and started spinning and flailing wildly, trying to cut a path through the scones to the big armored muffin.

Angelo jumped at the sight of a tentacle-y, none-too-friendly muffin tried to wrap itself around his neck. He drew his knife up with his right hand to cut off the offending tentacle, holding the cannon in his left, finger on the trigger; he wouldn't fire. Not just yet, no...he'd know when. But for now, there was the matter of the muffin, which he then tried to viciously stab with the aformentioned dagger.

Cornelius changes his mind "Dash it all. I don't think a cart will hold one of those deuced things. Oh! I say! Chocolate!" Wielding his longsword single-handedly for the moment, the armoured and confused Cornelius unhooks the frying pan, and starts batting the smaller scones out of the way in a flowing sequence of pan-whacks and sword-swipes, making his way towards what appears to be heaven on earth: a muffin coated in dark chocolate. The footwork chosen is simple, but years of duelling and combat on Vailkrin's streets coupled with natural talent had given Cornelius a sense of combat timing surpassed by none and equalled by few. The man's pristine armour starts to get smudged and smeared with scone bits as he works his way towards his just desserts.

Taikahn : The scone leaked chocolate sludge all over Angelo as its pseudopod fell off and was then subsequently stabbed. Unfortunately, its death--by instinct--marked Angelo for attack by any other nearby scones and they began attempting to smother him in gooey goodness. Death by chocolate indeed. *shudder* Meanwhile, the great armored muffin made a rumbling, clattering noise and scattered the remainder of its minions away from Taikahn and Corny... and unfolded flaps in its armor and hurled bullet-shaped spines the size of a man's forearm at them. Four, to be precise. Two at Corny, two at Taikahn. The preklek managed to smack the first one out of the way, having battled this breed before, but the second still smacked him hard in the side and he went down. The scones dove...

Angelo lowered the cannon by his side and whipped out a second dagger, slicing and dicing any scones coming his way, beginning to be covered in chocolately goo. He cackled all the while, his accent dropping as he began to sing in a lyrical tone; it was unknown what language it was, or even what he was saying, but it might have had something to do with the chocolate -everywhere-. He winced as one of them wrapped itself around his neck again, throwing it off before renewing his deadly assault...he couldn't keep this up forever.

Cornelius || It's interesting what happens to a mind under stress and in unfamiliar territory. Cornelius, trained swordsman and experienced assassin as he was, still couldn't quite grasp the situation. As his frying pan is impaled by one chocolatey spine and dislodged from his grip, he nimbly sidesteps the other, wincing slightly as his still-recovering thigh protested the abrupt movement. "What the deuce! Dash it all, now this is Just Not On!" There's a certain kind of righteous indignation all noble-born inherit, and it tends to come on display when fate dumps them in a river with no gondola or steersman. Cornelius, for the first time in a long while, falls back on an old standard. "That is it. This ends now. -Nobody-, biped, quadruped, or muffin, ruins the frying pan of a man of Penzance!" Reverting to a two-handed grip, Cornelius sets aside the discomfort of his injury as a cold fury overtakes him, and he proceeds to emulate a Preklek Cuisinart - not that he'd comprehend the simile. As his silver armour darkens with chocolate fudge, he wades through flights of scones using their impacts against his armour and his own mastery of biomechanics to maintain his combat momentum, cleaving through some of those harrassing Taikahn, before coming to stand guard over Angelo. Scones continue to splat and thud, impacting against or bouncing off the dandy's armour, rendering it more and more difficult for Cornelius to see. Diverting his attention from the scones for a moment, he unhooks his sludged gasmask and hisses at Angelo "Use the goddamn artifact, you fool!" He then dedicates all his efforts to keeping the majority of scones focused on himself to allow Angelo a chance to act.

Taikahn had somehow lost his ice blade in the fall, but that was alright because it wasn't all that sturdy to begin with. The scones were beginning to thin out, and especially with Corny's aid in removing some of the ones from himself, Taikahn managed to punch one and leave a flaming brand on another with his screaming sword, and got to his feet with a spin. The muffin, upon realizing that its targets were regrouping, opened flaps in its armor in the back. Scone after scone after scone began to fly from its body, replenishing those lost to the dancing blades of Angelo and all of them. Taikahn slammed his helmet shut with the brief respite he had and twisted a fist. Copper wires from his shoulders down to his wrists suddenly burst into green fire. He squeezed the trigger on his left wrist and a torrent of lantern oil or some such poured forth, touched the fire on his arms, and blazed. He swept his arm in a circle as he stepped to the side, coating the scones around him and some of the muffin itself in the flaming spray.

Angelo grabbed the cannon, nodding to Cornelius upon his 'advice'. His eyes searched for the best possible target, chuckling at the massive armored muffin as he leveled his gaze (and weapon), pulling the trigger. It should fire in one, two... "THREE!" He cackled wildly at the sudden kick, cheerfully mad as the ball of death went towards its intended target.

Cornelius calls out "Jolly good show Taikahn! Let's make some hot chocolate!" then gets out of Angelo's way, cutting down a scone as it tries to throw off the Lycan's aim.

RP:Of Muffins and Madness, part II