D3 / MCU Breakfast Mingle

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Who| Bruce Banner, the whole MCU cast, open to people who live in D3 or would drop in on D3 during breakfast time
What| Bruce is a stress cooker. He made a lot of food during the night. Now everyone has to eat it. MCUers have gathered to help with this.
Where| D3 kitchen and dining area.
When| Early morning after the first night under curfew.
Warnings/Notes| Possibly discussion of past violence. Twitchy old people with tribbles.

Bruce doesn't do well when he feels trapped. He felt very trapped during the night and didn't have even a wink of sleep. So he kept himself busy with cooking.

And boy, does it show.

There is a ton of food, all over the counter and on the table. Some is still cooking in the oven or on the stove. There are familiar things, like crepes and popovers and pancakes and muffins and bacon, but there are also completely foreign things from other countries, primarily from Latin America, Northern Africa, the Middle East, and India. And to go with all of this are a ton of different spreads, some of which are clearly not even from the continental United States.

There is also, of course, hot coffee and cold juice to drink. Or tap water, if that's what you feel like.

Honestly, it looks like the weirdest breakfast buffet ever.

Comments

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce is a busy (sleep-deprived) bee. He made a ton of batter last night, so now he flutters more around the kitchen than the dining table, baking and cooking and filling things rather than eating them. He's not eating much, but he may be full from trying things before he serves them.

And he has a tribble in his pocket, but he doesn't acknowledge it beyond occasionally touching it. Tribbles are the best therapy pets.

[arrogantalloy]

The second curfew cleared, Tony was already heading to D3. He had had enough of being trapped and well the curiosity and allure of Bruce's cooking had him eager to find out how good his cooking was.

After coming through the doors, Tony could see all the nervous energy once again being poured out through the food, so with his usual lack of respect for boundaries he comes over and leans around Bruce while he runs his finger around the edge of the bowl to scoop up some of the batter left there.

"You know, if you ever end up being a parent no one's going to have to worry about them starving."

He sticks the battered finger in his mouth to suck off the batter. He hums at the taste.

"Or them complaining about your cooking."

[fiercestwarrior]

He is joined in the kitchen by an Asgardian who is far from done with stuffing her face, but she feels the need to go check up on the chef first.

"I could kiss you for all this delicious food, but I'd rather see your mouth occupied with eating some of it."

Because while she might not know Bruce very well, she has come to like him enough to worry when he seems to possibly not be doing too terribly great, and she can't help but feel like this frantic activity might be some sort of way to keep upset emotions under some sort of control.

ota

[tookthewheel]

With his lack of culinary skills and a trust in Bruce to actually cook food that is safe for consumption Bucky comes along willingly enough to D3 after escaping his own district the moment the clock hits seven. He hasn't got a wink of sleep but at this point he's become used to being a victim of perpetual insomnia even if things had, since the curfew started, been worse than usual.

With dark circles under his eyes he takes a seat after grabbing a plateful of anything that looked appetising -- and with his appetite he'll certainly go for seconds and maybe thirds before this breakfast is over, so he's not being overly fussy at what he gets the first time round. There's a certain pleasure in the amount of choice though and picking for himself what went on his plate; bacon predominately to start with, eggs and toast, food that seems homely and familiar.

Bucky will be sitting there a while as he eats his fill. He might not look openly inviting (by default) but given most of the people here he's come to know he won't be pushing them away should they choose to say hi. Mostly he's being pretty quiet which, as anyone who knows him knows, isn't unusual behaviour.

... except for the occasional cooing noise that comes from inside the pocket of his hoodie. It's where his still-unnamed tribble lives.

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Aw, you trust him to not poison everyone. Clearly, friendship is blooming.

Bruce gives Bucky an absent nod when he sees him getting food. It's probably a good thing that the man is actually consenting to be in the company of this clump of overpowered misfits. It doesn't take a genius to tell that the man doesn't seem to know how to deal with people; deciding to sit down with them, even if he doesn't talk much, is a step in the right direction.

Although--and he thinks this with some dark amusement--Bruce has no place commenting on other people being antisocial. Nor on their choice of pets, he thinks when he notices the suspicious purring coming from Bucky's direction.

He puts a plate of lemon poppy seed muffins on the table, near enough for Bucky to take one if he wants. The tribble in his pocket starts to loudly purr in response to Bucky's tribble's quieter noises. Bruce rests a hand on his pocket to quiet it, which doesn't work too well. He really has to wonder how these tiny things can make such noise. And how he ended up with such a loud one.

"Do you want any tea? I'm about to put on a pot."

[silberfuchs]

Seeing as Bucky has chosen to sit across from him - likely randomly and not out of design, but still - Albert decides to make at least a cursory attempt at conversation.

"You look as tired as I feel," he jokes, circles deep under his own eyes as well. While the source of Bucky's insomnia is unknown to him, Albert can barely catch a wink without Jet, something his partner suffers from mutually. In fact, Jet had come up here to crawl in bed and doze through the morning with him, but the smells of bacon, eggs, and hash pulled them away from sleep for just that much longer.

[metalicarus]

Jet looked like hell with his giant circles under his eyes and blond hair unstyled for once and falling around his chin, but that was what happened when sleep didn't come the entirety of the curfew. It was the norm these days, he could never catch a wink of sleep until he'd come back to the third floor and crawled into Albert's bed. That's where he'd been as of seven this morning, but after five minutes of laying there, both Jet and his partner had been dragged out to the common area by the tantalizing smells of a wonderful breakfast.

How could he resist good food like that? It would just be criminal.

Clad only in a pair of long pajama pants and socks, he gathered as much eggs and bacon and pancakes as he could onto his plate, slathered the whole thing in syrup (except for the eggs which received a nice drizzle of ketchup) and practically collapsed into the chair beside a welcomely familiar face. Bacon was methodically shoveled into his mouth and swallowed before he actually bothered to break the comfortable silence he'd been keeping.

"G'morning. You look like crap, my friend." Which he was totally allowed to say since he knew he looked about the same.

[atoner]

The good thing about Natasha is that she's adaptable. Knowing that every situation is constantly changing and being able to switch up her behaviours, if not her attitudes. Which is a good summary of how she acts around Barnes these days. He's here to stay, and he's Steve's friend. He's different from the man who almost killed her on the bridge, somehow. So when Natasha spots him at Bruce's little get-together, she approaches him with a plate.

A plate with a pancake on it. With a whipped cream smiley on its face.

"You should eat this," she says, mostly because it'll amuse her. Because when your life is about as shitty as hers, you have to take every opportunity to cheer yourself up. And making a deadly HYDRA super-soldier eat a whipped cream smiley is one of life's greatest joys.

OTA!

[confidentially]

Jessica breezes into the dining area still clad in her silkiest and sexiest pink dressing gown, make-up on from the night before. Unlike most everyone else in the Tribute Center, she's got a pass to be out and about at night, and as such she's been making the social rounds trying to hype up Albert and Jet's wedding plans to any tabloid reporter she can find. More publicity means more public interest, and more public interest means more sponsorships come Games time. It's hard work being a mentor, but someone has to do it.

She pauses before the elaborate spread, hands on her hips as she inhales the tantalizing scent of food. It's like heaven on Earth. Even years removed from her life back in District Three, she gets excited just thinking about a full, delicious meal. "I think I've died and gone to heaven. All this needs to top it off is a mimosa."

Smiling, she takes a seat at the head of the table, where she belongs.

[silberfuchs]

"Well there's orange juice. I'm sure you could get some champagne sent up." Whereas Jessica looks like she owns the room, Albert looks a mess. His hair pokes out at fluffy angles and he's dressed in unobtrusive sweats and a white t-shirt. To complete the ensemble are too deep, dark circles under his eyes. Someone hasn't gotten much sleep.

Even so, there's still that aura of soft peace about him, mostly brought about by the fact that a certain blond from District 2 is currently waiting for more bacon over in the kitchen.

[baaarbie]

Barbie didn't like being told where to be at what time, but he wasn't really surprised by it. It was a very Capitol thing to do, so he accepted it for now. It just meant that there were going to be some mornings when District 3 would see him around bright and early.

He was dressed simply since he wasn't going out just yet and he looked sleep-rumpled but generally decent as he slid into the seat beside his gorgeous girlfriend.

He placed a small bottle on the table between them, the label clearly indicating it was a shot-sized bottle of something strong. Apparently, he just had the best timing in the world.

"It's not champagne, but it might be good enough." There'd been two he'd received as a gift the night before and he'd decided to share one with someone he knew would appreciate it. It wasn't exactly a breakfast drink, but whatever.

"Sleep well?"

Re: OTA!

[gardienne]

"What's a mimosa?" Eponine asks as she takes her seat. All of the food has eventually tempted Eponine into wanting to eat, and her plate is piled high. She's eager to try as many different bits as she can, which means that she's eating a strange combination of foods she doesn't recognise.

"He is a good cook, no?"

[silberfuchs]

It doesn't seem as if anyone's terribly awake this morning (aside from maybe Jessica) and Albert's not an exception. He sits in his pajamas - sweats and a plain shirt - casually working through the remains of his breakfast. He's had at least two plates already, piled high with eggs and potatoes and sausage, and he's just mopping up the juices with a piece of toast, one cheek perched on the heel of his hand and deeply under-circled eyes watching the bread soak up whatever liquid is left on his plate.

He stares at it for perhaps a bit too long, brain half asleep even though his eyes are still open. Frankly, it looks like he might faceplant into the empty plate.

[worldsaway]

Thor isn't sitting too far from Albert, so it's hard not to notice the fact that he's drifting off. He pities the man, really, being trapped in close quarters with Loki means that they bicker more than they sleep. Food had been enough to revive Thor's spirits, but it seems Albert is in need of something more.

Reaching for a fresh pitcher of coffee, Thor moves to fill the mug closest to Albert with the drink. He doesn't ask, of course, if the man doesn't drink it he certainly will.

"The day will pass you by if you allow yourself to succumb to exhaustion so willingly." He sounds a little bit like an advice book and a lot like a health guide. Which is funny, because he punctuates the sentence by shoving an entire pancake in his mouth.

OTA

[arrogantalloy]

Tony hadn't wasted time coming to Bruce's breakfast, and after he had his fill of both bothering and being a reassuring presence for Bruce, Tony now sits at the table his plate comfortable with Middle Eastern foods that Tony nibbles at while idly reading Celebrus' new issue.

Yeah, it was good to know that nonsense he says is being taken serious. But then again, most anything he's said back home ends up in a gossip rag like this so nothing about it surprises him.

"Well at least some things won't change no matter what dimension you're in."

While he's technically muttering to himself, it's clearly still loud enough to be heard over the table.

[fiercestwarrior]

"Such as?"

Hey, say things out loud where she can hear it and Sif will comment.

Well, if she feels like it, and pancakes go well with some conversation.

[tookthewheel]

"What does it say?"

This is coming from Bucky as he stands beside where Tony's sitting, a plateful of syrup covered pancakes in hand. Celebrus hasn't come up on his reading list yet, which mostly consists of him picking whatever's near at hand and perusing it. Bucky has read some very strange Capitol literature thanks to this approach.

[shenunigans]

Dave has some reason to be around District Three, since Terezi has built her famed blanket and pillow fortress. On top of that, the smell of food and bustling Avengers rarely escapes him. He fits right in with the crowd of tired, hungry and belligerent people, but he still feels a little awkward when he scans around for a free chair.

Ah, there's Tony. Wait. Why is Tony here? Whatever, he slinks up beside him anyway and invites himself into the chair closest. He puts down his AJ and his pancake lovingly drowned in cream, bacon, Panem brand hershey's syrup and tomato sauce with a hashbrown on top and just raises a brow at Tony like he's the weird one here.

"I didn't think you ate breakfast." He says matter-of-factly, like he is the authority on what Tony does and doesn't do. "Prune juice and something bran-y and you're good to go, right? Literally, even." He jibes, reaching for his AJ before his eyes fall on the magazine. "Oh that trash. Please. They thought myself from the future who came back to save my timeline and got turned into my gamespritebirdfriend for things was my brother." He scoffs like Tony should know why this is strange. "Unfuckingbelievable, what happened to journalistic integrity?"

ota!

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Breakfast with people who aren't quite yet but might soon be friends has pretty much just become a way of life for Sam at this point. There's no way he's going to miss out on someone else cooking.

So he heads for District 3 as soon as the curfew's up, and knows he's made the right decision as soon as he sees the spread.

Sam gives a low, impressed whistle.

But first, the other reason he's here. He's also got a couple of containers of yogurt cradled in one arm, and he's just going to sneak over to the fridge to try to stash them in it. It's not like he's really all that worried about his districtmates stealing his food, but yogurt is a different story. He's not going to be the one to bring more yogurt into that kitchen, man, and Albert did say he could borrow some fridge space in District 3.

After that, he'll start sampling the food, heading over to chat with anyone who looks open to it.

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Aaaaand it's the cook himself. Bruce doesn't recognize this man as either an Avenger or a member of District 3, but that doesn't necessarily mean he wasn't invited. The Avengers have, after all, picked up a lot of strays from their world. Who knows, maybe he's someone else who managed to tase Thor.

As the man passes near the kitchen area, Bruce just casually pushes a plate of various fresh, hot muffins at him. "You mind bringing this to the table on your way, please?" And he's already going back to the cooking, pouring crepe batter into a sizzling pan. "And eat one while you're at it. We have too many."

[fiercestwarrior]

Sif is looking rather a lot more approachable this morning than she has for quite a while. Thor is alive and around again, and several people attending this breakfast are people she have come to like and consider at least almost friends.

She even throws Sam a pleasant smile for no particular reason at all simply because their eyes happen to lock for a moment.

Re: ota!

[gardienne]

Eponine stares at the stranger in her District Common rooms for a while, trying to work out who he is. He must know someone here, and Eponine watches carefully to work out who it is. She doesn't want to be simply brushed aside if he is is friends with people who dislike her. Perhaps it's not so though.

She comes closer slowly, piling her plate with foods she doesn't recognise. This is about the first square meal she's eaten since Eva died, and she's hungry. When she's close enough not to speak too loudly, she smiles swiftly up at Sam.

"Are you a new Tribute, Sir? For here?"

OTA

[risewithit]

It's not that Skye is an awful cook, it's just that she's had so little time or inclination in her life to practice. Living out of a van means you get used to cheap diners, cheaper takeout, and instant ramen noodles heated in the microwave. She eats like a starving woman, which is more than a little ridiculous given how readily available food is to the tributes in the Capitol, but there's the food they're served by the Avoxes and then there is this.

She bites into something that doesn't look remotely American and moans. "Ohhhhhhh god. You are so wasted on science."

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"Glad you think so." Bruce puts down a plate of what looks like a pile of seeded crepes, but they're in fact various kinds of dosa. That will be rude for anyone expecting crepes when they grab one, but oh well.

"I've been needing a backup career for a while now. Physics segues into cooking, right?" He's being sardonic, but it can be hard to tell, with his flat delivery and the fact he always sounds a little dry. "I'm about to put on another pot of coffee. Do you want any?"

ota

[worldsaway]

It's with a well-intentioned heart and an empty stomach that Thor is drawn to the suites of Three. It's not a long trip, seeing as how he lives in Two. Really, anyone in three has probably heard the muffled yells of Thor and Loki battling over what goes in and out of the fridge. Last night, it had been Loki making his way in the freeze box, courtesy of Thor of course. Needless to say, he had not slept or ate well.

But he can make up for that.

Thor has reserved an entire jug of coffee for his personal drainage. He's heaped sugar into it, and sometimes he doesn't quite bother to pour it in the mug first before helping himself. The stack of pancakes is so large it's difficult to cut through, but he barely bothers with that either. Why wouldn't you shovel the entire cake in your mouth, really? He seems utterly delighted with himself as he eats, but occasionally he takes reprieve to scan over a word search in a magazine he has open alongside him. Even more frequently, he talks through a full mouth at people, asking with increasing exuberance how they slept and how they're faring with the curfew. It only takes half a pitcher of coffee to get Thor to his godly levels of vibrancy, it seems.

[honeyibrokeharlem]

Bruce genuinely wonders how the man can eat so much. Isn't the Capitol supposed to dull any powers they may have? Is this just an Asgardian thing, that they can unhinge their jaws like snakes and eat a whole breakfast table?

Not that he's complaining. He has way too much food.

Bruce pauses when he passes Thor, looking at the impressive meal he's hoarded for himself. "Sif tells me that you don't have crepes in Asgard. I have too much crepe batter. Do you want to try one?" If even an Asgardian could possibly eat one on top of the rest of that stuff.

OTA

[tasermaiden]

Darcy isn't a bad cook. Hell, one could almost say she's kind of good at cooking, and even better at baking. Which is why, when she wanders into D3 a few minutes after seven, she's carrying a few containers full of still cooling muffins that she made from scratch when she wasn't able to sleep, which she adds to the array of tasty breakfast foods as her blonde, spotted tribble that she named Snuffaleupagus coos from the pocket of her hoodie.

"Holy International House of Breakfast Foods," she says in amazement as she looks over the crazy huge spread and gets herself a cup of quickly overly sweet caffeinated goodness.

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"Yeah, did I mention I've been traveling for the past ten years?" Traveling, on the run from the military, same dif. "I picked some tricks up on the way."

In the back of his head, he wonders if he should have let her and anyone else see the array of things he could cook. Someone educated could guess each country the recipes are from. They could trace his footsteps. Find out where he had been, and find out where he might go next. Ross would be able to find him, or the Capitol might find someone he met out there and pull them in.

And then he squashes that thought, because that's a little paranoid even for him. Yet still, it creeps on him, making him begin to wonder if maybe he should stop referencing the countries he's been to so carelessly.

"Thanks for the muffins. I didn't know you baked." He picks up one of the ones Darcy brought and starts to pick at it, eating like a bird rather than a man who hasn't eaten properly in a day.