The unit murmured words of agreement, anxiously glancing at each other in curiosity of Francis’ state of panic.Īfter ingredients had been set out, required equipment passed round, and the spoon fight between Thaddea and Hawthorne had died down, the kitchen fell to a slow but steady rhythm. His aunt, Hester fitzwillams, was very strict and set on rules, which left her nephew in a constant state of unease, that one day he’d step one inch out of line and break her trust completely. “Right, are we all clear about the rules?” Francis asked nervously, running a finger through his hair. Francis, as the gastronomist he was, volunteered to bake her one of his infamous cakes and inevitably, the rest had insisted it would be fun to all cooperate together. Unit 919, bar one, were huddled inside of Francis’ kitchen, discussing their plans for morrigans birthday.
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