(no subject)

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

Time: Late afternoon, 25 July 2000
Place: The Manor Grounds
Status: Public
Summary: The Barbecue

Severus had prepared for this extensively, had done research as soon as he was told that he needed to provide food for a ‘barbecue’. Well, that was American, wasn’t it? A newly-published book titled The Great American Barbecue and Grilling Manual was his starting point. (The words ‘great’ and ‘American’ did not belong in the same sentence, although perhaps he might be mistaken, never having been to America.) After learning that this was not merely an American cuisine but a regional (Southern) American cuisine, he began to specialise. Having found a butcher to bring a pig and something to cook it over (yes, the whole pig, you dolt) he learned that it could have been done with a goat as it had been in the Caribbean, and with less effort.

Having put forth effort already, he pushed ahead. The intensive labour required to prepare food by the slow ‘barbecue’ method had been provided by Remus Lupin, although he surely did not understand when he volunteered exactly what it was he’d be doing. The butcher himself was also interested and so Snape had ‘invited’ him to come and help. Work for the day, eat. Bring your family with you and they can help and eat also. Only if they help. Severus’ labour shortage crisis solved.

The whole concept of barbecue sauce was confusing, so he’d made three kinds. Two for public consumption—a South Carolina style with mustard, vinegar and black pepper that seemed reasonable enough. Kansas City style that was thick, red-brown, and gloppy, made with a tomato base and molasses. The third was for Crowley, a Texas-style sauce amusingly named ‘Devil’s Spit’ made from a tomato base with cumin and hot chiles. These American chiles being unavailable, he procured an Oriental variety that were infinitely hotter. Let him call that bland.

Chicken would go on, although not for as long as the blasted pig, and sausages for the unadventurous. The Brunswick Stew might end up in the restaurant under ‘American Cuisine’. It was simple enough, with a tomato base, lima beans (or any beans), corn, other vegetables, and meat. Traditionally rabbit or squirrel but he could use leftover pork, chicken, beef or even cut-up sausages. Basically, a fine way to rid himself of leftover almost anything and he revised his opinion of American ingenuity. The true test would be Crowley’s opinion. If he disapproved, it was definitely going on the menu.

Okra and sweet potatoes proved impossible to procure. Field greens—of the turnip variety—were simple enough to cook in some of the extra pig fat. Black-eyed peas, which looked an awful lot like beans, with bacon. He made carrots in sauce of butter and brown sugar that seemed terribly French, but he simply shrugged. There would be green peas—not mushy, unfortunately, which would have made Crowley complain and Snape smile, a dish of fried apples that was a side dish, apparently popular with pork, and potato salad. It was a source of annoyance that the recipe he found for this called for red potatoes that did not need to be peeled. How brilliant would it have been to set Lupin to peeling potatoes for his own requested potato salad?

Cornbread was simple enough to make, although all the different names and types confused him. The concept of beaten biscuits was repulsive so he settled on cheddar biscuits instead. American biscuits, he found, were a bread roll that seemed a bizarre combination of bap, scone, and crumpet. But they were a Southern staple and very simple to make. Devilled eggs—also simple, seemingly French—were another extra dish along with pickles of varied types. He refused to make grits—porridge was bad enough at breakfast and he would certainly not serve it in any other time.

Cold tea, sweet, with or without lemon was also a disgusting concept. Lemonade, if people wished to drink it. Lupin had to deal with squeezing the lemons, too. He had procured some Bourbon and Belial would, he imagined, not object if any leftover made its way to the bar. Mint juleps required it. Mint grew in the garden and sugar was a staple.

Having no sweet potatoes with which to make sweet potato pie, which seemed unpleasant anyway, he went with pecan pie. It was too sweet, but someone would eat it. Pound cake with whipped cream (another job for Lupin) and blackberry cobbler, which was enough like local fare for people to be willing to eat it. If he could have found watermelon, that would have been amusing. But messy, so just as well he hadn’t found it.

All in all, it was a great effort on his part, slave labour or no, and people had better appreciate it else he would be extremely put out.

"Let Wensleydale handle things in the kitchen, Lupin. The butcher will take care of serving the meat. You can clear plates and make sure the dishes are all filled." He had planned this. "The butcher's wife can help with drinks. The children have been disposed of."

Out of the way, nothing more sinister. Eating now, washing dishes later. Work for food, and a good trade on his part.

"Keep an eye on the biscuits, Wensleydale, and see that they don't burn. And make sure there is plenty of ice."

He turned.

"No, mint juleps are not sweets, get away from me, you silly child." Weren't they supposed to be on the far side of the lawn, eating their supper?

Attention Edit: As of this point the Devil's Spit sauce is no longer on the serving table but in Snape's hands, doled out by him. Please do not have your character get into it.

Comments

(it's not ignorance! ;D) Ballroom Blitz by Sweet

[playswithboys.livejournal.com]

Pepper opened her eyes as the first chorus came to an end, and found that she was being watched. By someone she didn't know. Didn't seem like an intimidating or judgmental sort, the fellow watching her, but it was still a bit embarrassing.

Now that she looked around, she noticed the tables set up not too far away. She had completely missed that. She must be dehydrated or something.

"Er... singin' to the plants?" she attempted by way of explanation. Well, if threatening worked, then why couldn't singing? She really just wanted to laugh at herself, go back to work and forget she had been caught. "Actually, I was just messin' around," she confessed.

Re: Thank you!

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

"Hello," the Doctor said brightly. "Singing, you say? Good. Plants probably appreciate being serenaded." He winked at her. "Makes them feel special."

He took the hosepipe from her gently and looked down the nozzle. "Messing around's good too," he said. "Fun and games. I like fun. Singing too."

And without warning he adjusted his grip on the hosepipe, closed his eyes, and did what was mostly known as the barking-lunatic-doing-a-very-bad-impression-of-a-rock-god.

"I'm reaching out for something,
touching nothing's all I ever do."

(Too true.)

"Oh, I softly call you over
when you appear there's nothing left of you."

He paused and smiled widely at her. "I'm the Doctor," he said. "Nice to meet you."

Re: Welcome!

[playswithboys.livejournal.com]

Pepper grinned back at the man. He was nice and chipper. With how Adam had been talking about everyone in the place, she had expected a lot of gloomy, angry, brooding sorts. So far, though, everyone she had met was really very friendly. Some of them a bit more than friendly, actually.

And he was playing along too. Pretty amusing to watch, grown man acting silly like that. Nice to know that not everyone around would be stuffy adult-types just because they were thousands of years old and the like. After all, if you couldn't have fun at that age, then what was the point?

"Nice to meet you too," she said once he had stopped and introdcued himself. "I'm Pepper."

Normally she would have asked about his name, but strange names were the least of worries around here. She was pretty sure he wasn't a PhD of any sort, though. She left the hose in his hands, reaching for a small gardening shovel. There. Now they both had microphones. She pointed at him with the first new set of lyrics -

"Now the man in the back is ready to crack as he raises his hand to the sky!
And the girl in the corner is everyone's mourner, she could kill you with a wink of her eye."

And she winked playfully before whipping her head around, making her hair thrash and tangle about her like seaweed in the ocean. This was the most fun she'd had in a while, even if she did get caught, and she was going to play it for all she was worth.

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

"Oh yes, it was electric,
So frightfully hectic," the Doctor 'sang'. It felt good to be doing something so completely idiotic, childish, and random. Something that would cause anyone to pass that way to give him and his new duet partner some very odd looks indeed.

He felt more comfortable than he should have, really, and a little bit of him felt a tad guilty. He was acting a fool with a young human girl. Part of him said he shouldn't be doing that so soon after Rose.

But then he thought, why not? If you're going to live, live. Don't wander around in a depressed state for the rest of your existence, because that would be even more pointless than war.

He laughed as Pepper flung her head back, red hair streaming out behind her. He held one hand out to her, inviting her to dance. He would go to the barbecue, yes. But after this song.

[playswithboys.livejournal.com]

"And the band stared leaving
'Cause they all stopped breathing!
Oh yeah!"

Pepper staggered around with her hands at her throat like she couldn't breathe, as the song suggested. Really, it was more fun to lipsynch with songs like this, ones where the lyrics made you pantomime the oddest things. No fun rocking out like a drugged up hippie if you weren't going to go all the way with it (Pepper had learned this from her mother, of course, who was a real hippie and had no qualms about prancing around in front of other people she didn't know, especially if she had bells on her ankles).

The Doctor held his hand out, and although Pepper had never considered herself any sort of a dancer, she took it and twirled into him. It wasn't the sort of song of song that demanded true dancing skills anyway. It was about a "Ballroom Blitz", after all. She bumped into him accidentally and started laughing too, glad that the afternoon sunshine wasn't being wasted, and hoping that everyone else was having as good of time as she was at that moment. Who cared if she had no idea who this man was or why he was here - he was fun.

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

The barbecue was one American tradition of which John hertily approved. Lots of good, honest, simple food and people just hanging out with their mates and loved ones having a good time. It was a bit odd to see one hosted at the Manor, but hell--free food, who was he to complain?

Walking across the grounds toward the gathering, hands in pockets (and sans trench, for once; it was warm enough to go without, and he didn't want to spill anything on it) he grinned as he caught sight of the Doctor and an attractive redhead seranading each other. He didn't know the girl, but it was good to see the Doc had apparently met someone else who wasn't out to mount his head on a wall.

"Full marks for enthusiasm, but your presentation leaves something to be desired," he remarked as he came up to them, lighting up a cigarette. "Nice day to stuff faces and get plasted, yeah? Hope someone remembered to bring beer..."

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

The Doctor let go of Pepper and bowed low to John. "Why thank you, Johnny," he said. "This is my wonderful singing partner Pepper, have you two met?"

He raised an eyebrow at the human. "Beer? Whatever happened to wholesome, non-alcoholic fun? (Or pan-galactic gargle blasters? If you're going to get drunk, do it properly)..."

[playswithboys.livejournal.com]

She had gotten a little caught up, just a bit carried away. Enough that she didn't see anyone else approach at any rate. There was a sardonic voice, one that Pepper hadn't heard yet at the manor, and she followed it when the Doctor let go and bowed to... someone who didn't look like any Lord of the Court, that was for sure.

He was human, Pepper knew it. Mainly because of the gruffness to his voice that said chronic smoker (so he clearly wasn't just lighting up for appearances), and the fact that he looked like life had kicked the crap out of him one to many times to allow for immortality. Pepper had to admit that in a manor full of boys and very young-looking types, it was refreshing to see someone who looked like a man for a change. A pretty up front and no-nonsense one at that, if his comments were anything to judge by.

She waited while the Doctor gave a haphazard introduction, and made a mental note to ask about pan-galactic gargle blasters later. "Beer's not wholesome?" she teased, thinking of typical cookouts in the summer. Mr. Young had always had a beer in his hand whenever they ate outside.

Pepper turned her attention to the man the Doc had called 'Johnny' and smirked. "We haven't met, no. I haven't been here for very long yet, I'm a friend of Adam's." She held out the little shovel to him instead of offering a hand to shake. "As for presentation, maybe you should teach us something about it, since you seem to know what to do, Mr. ...?"

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

"Beer's the elixir of life, don't let anyone tell you different. John Constantine," he said by way of introduction, and chuckled at the invitation. "What, me? Christ, I haven't done anything like that since Mucous Membrane broke up..."

He was about to decline when the song faded out, to be replaced by an old Sex Pistols tune he knew very well. Oh fuck me, it's too perfect.

Unable to resist, he dropped his cigarette and crushed it out with his heel, taking the shovel with a smirk on his face that was liable to turn into a stupid grin if he wasn't careful.

Striking a slightly-less-bad-than-the-Doctor's-but-still-fairly-ridiculous pose, he fixed his eyes intently on Pepper (who was easily young enough to be his daughter, possibly even his granddaughter--shameful, that's what it was) and 'sang' along with old Sid Vicious:

Look at that
Here she comes
Here comes that girl again
Wanted to date her since I don't know when
But she don't notice me when I pass
She goes with all the guys from outta my class
But that can't stop me from thinkin' to myself
She's sure fine lookin', man, she's something else"

[playswithboys.livejournal.com]

John Constantine. Pepper judged a lot by names, she found. That was a solid, tough kinda name. Told as much as his face did that he'd seen a lot.

So he'd been in a band? That was immediately exciting to her already-hyperactive-from-the-heat-and-jumping-about brain. No wonder he'd been judging their little impromtu act. But it looked like he wasn't too keen on her suggestion, which she'd expected. Shame. Until that thrashing-til-your-ears-bleed guitar solo sounded in the trademark screech that only one band could claim, and he took the shovel from her, striking a pose that was wonderfully remeniscent (as ridiculous poses could hardly bother a young woman who still liked to pretend she was a superhero) of old videos that she'd seen from the 70s. She tried to hide her surprise. He's a Sex Pistols fan?

Pepper shook her head back and forth in time to the music. "You know this band too?" she asked the Doc. Most people found the Pistols abrasive at best, and after his statement renouncing the wholesomeness of beer, she had to inquire.

When she checked back John Constantine was still looking at her moving through the song in a way that would have made Johnny Rotten proud. Pepper wasn't used to being the center of attention this way, especially with men, but she found that the weird fluttering in her stomach was a lot better than how she normally felt around boys (even around her boyfriend, truth be told. He never inspired anything fluttery or even interesting). And John had a rugged quality that she was appreciating more by the second, even as he lipsynched indecently for her random amusement. Anyone who had the guts to play was automatically 'good' in Pepper's book. She grinned at him and mouthed the next lyrics with him as the song continued:

Look at that
cross the street
Theres a car built just for me
To own a car would be a luxury
But right now I can't afford the gas
A brand new convertible is out of my class

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

"Beer isn't wholesome," the Doctor said sternly, "beer's Oirish. Top o' the morning to ya, my goodness my Guinness, I really have to work on my Irish accent..."

He paused but brightened after a moment. "I'm good with Scottish accents, though."*

The name Adam rung a bell. He'd heard the name recently. Who had said it... oh, Uriel. Adam was her manager. The one he was supposed to find if he wanted a job here. Maybe he could get Pepper to introduce him to the fellow.

The Doctor grinned when John joined in the game. He snuck a sidelong glance at Pepper and saw her smiling too. Good. It was going to be a good day.

"Know the Sex Pistols?" He pretended to be affronted. "Of course I know the Sex Pistols! The Sex Pistols and Queen are two of the best things of the past century!" He'd met both of them, too. The whole tapes-morphing-into-Best-of-Queen-cassettes-after-a-fortnight was partially his fault.

He opened his mouth to join in the singing when a young man with bright eyes and flushed cheeks interrupted, running up to them and calling Pepper's name.

___
* David Tennant is, actually, Scottish, but can talk with a very good English accent. It isn't the other way around.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"You'd think that," drawled Crowley from behind the Doctor, "until you heard that bloody album every day for thirty years."

The demon surveyed the group before him. "Hello, John, Pepper, and I don't believe we've met yet," he said to the Doctor. "Anthony Crowley, but everyone calls me Crowley. New to the Manor?"

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

Caught in the act of making a complete git of himself over a pretty face, John stopped and did his best to look as though lip-synching and flailing around like a moron was perfectly normal and in no way uncool behavior for a man pushing fifty. "Oi Crowley," he said with a grin that was not at all sheepish in any way, "This's Docter...er, Doctor Something?" He raised his eyebrows at the Doc, only now realizing he still hadn't got a full introduction.

[playswithboys.livejournal.com]

She almost laughed at John's expression once Crowley arrived. It made her feel better in some way. At least she knew that she wasn't the only person Crowley seemed to have that effect on.

"Well, look who's outside," she said to the dark lenses with a twisted smirk. "Haven't seen you in a bit. Was beginning to think I imagined you."

It was then that she heard a voice that was most certainly Brian's, whining her name in a tone that suggested there was something that 'she just had to see,' in traditional Them fashion. Rather than let him reach the group and confuse the whole conversation while introductions were still taking place, Pepper shouted back at him. "Oy, Bri, I hear you already! Keep your knickers on, I'll be there in a tick!" She turned back, hoping she hadn't shouted too loud, remembering belatedly that she was pretty noisy when the occassion called for it.

"Sorry gents, 'pears I'm being commandeered for something. Talk you all later I'm sure, Doc, Crowley..." She tossed John a conspiratorial wink for his trouble. "Mr. Vicious."

And then she walked off in Brian's direction.

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

The Doctor smiled at John, in a completely non-patronizing way. "Just the Doctor," he said cheerfully, "but if there's any paperwork say my name's Doctor John Smith or something. Yes, I arrived yesterday," he added to Crowley. In a blue box that's currently standing locked in the lobby, if anyone cares to look.

He gave one of his manic grins and said, "new new Doctor!"*

Crowley was a tall dark-haired fellow, and the Doctor thought the sunglasses a bit extreme. Yes, it was a nice day, but it wasn't that nice. Maybe he just had sensitive eyes, or something. From Pepper's comment about being seen outside, perhaps Crowley was extremely sensitive to light.

Hah. Vampires, aliens, and 'gods', oh my!

He waved a goodbye to Pepper, stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled at John and Crowley. "So," he said, "shall we be off to this barbecue, then? I wonder if they have any jelly babies..."


___
* From the episode New Earth, where he and Rose joke about New New York.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Nice to meet you, the Doctor," said Crowley, unsurprised. He could appreciate the value of an alias. "Lead on. Though if there are jelly babies, I'll be very surprised."

Don't skin me! It was the Doctor's idea!

[first-catwoman.livejournal.com]

Bast was half lying on the ground, idly picking the last strands of meat from the chicken carcass and practising her newfound dexterity by flicking them up in the air and catching them in her mouth. She paused as three people walked by her and a familar scent caught her. Eats-with-snake? Ah, the one with the sunglasses must be the kitten's...well, not human, but something else. Ah, well, curiosity killed the cat...

She rose to walk beside the black-haired male (the silmilarity in fur colour amused her; she idly wondered if he had yellow eyes too) and tapped him on the shoulder. //Excuse me, but you wouldn't happened to be the keeper of a black kitten with one white forepaw?//

Why would I?

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Turning at being tapped on the shoulder, Crowley's eyes widened as he caught sight of a woman with a furry cat's head and tail. He hadn't seen that in a while - must be another Egyptian god, but damn if he could keep their names straight.

Suspiciously he said, "I am, actually. Who are you and why do you ask?"

Re: Why would I?

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

Walking along with Crowley and the Doctor, John blinked at the woman with the cat's head and then blinked again, certain he shouldn't be seeing what he was seeing. He wasn't even drunk.

Speaking of which... "Oh look, someone brought beer. Pardon, all, I'll be back," he said, nodding politely to the cat-headed woman as though it was all perfectly ordinary to have naked feline-human hybrids wandering around in a crowd of gods, angels, demons, an alien time traveler, and a few humans at a British barbecue.

With that he made for the beverage table post-haste, certain he'd be better able to cope with this new twist when he'd downed a pint or two or three.

Thanks, Bast, love you too... *sarcasm overload*

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

She was - well, mostly a cat. She was cat enough not to want clothes, and human enough to need them.

The Doctor had met cat-humans before. They'd tried to kill him. He decided he wasn't going to take any chances with this one.

"I have a screwdriver," he said. It was the best thing that came to his head. In hindsight, he could have said something tougher.

Boo!

[demon-mictain.livejournal.com]

For some reason Mictain found himself wandering towards a group of people. Some of them he had seen before in the Manor, some he hadn't. None of them seemed to have noticed him yet.

"And?" he asked right behind the obviously crazy man, raising an eyebrow. "What does a screwdriver have to do with anything?"

Re: Boo!

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

The Doctor wouldn't have admitted he jumped. If he had, he would have blamed it on the presence of the cat-woman, and the 'bad memories' she stirred up.*

"What hasn't a screwdriver go to do with?" he asked, trying to cover his (frankly, really strange) sentence with philosophical jargon. "You never know. Could be one of those great rules of science no one ever notices. Always carry a towel, never say 'it can't get any worse', there is no spoon...

"I'm the Doctor, by the way," he said, and held out his hand.


___
* New Earth.

I just like to ensure that all my remaining lives, well, remain.

[first-catwoman.livejournal.com]

Mentally, Bast gave him a point for not acting like the other two, who she was trying very hard not to laugh at. She focussed on the...she really needed to learn to identify species, but he smelled faintly like burnt feathers - and tried to remember why she had gone to speak to him. The one in the pinstriped suit and funny hair was making her nervous. Oh, that'll do. //She doesn't like the brand of catfood you've been feeding her. I'm Bast, by-the-by. Nice party, isn't it?//

He's not going to kill someone for talking to him...

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Bast. Of course. Nice to meet you." Crowley looked around, unfazed. He'd stroll around without clothes if he could get away with it, too. "Yeah, it's all right. No one's died yet."

He blinked. "You've spoken to Chicago?" Well, that wasn't the strangest thing to happen, but it did give him pause. He thought for a moment. "I don't know what kind of cat food it is. It's whatever is supposed to be good for her. What would she prefer?"

I'm a cat. They all think someone's out for their fur.

[first-catwoman.livejournal.com]

//Chicago? Is that what you call her? Not bad.// She nodded thoughtfully. *There are fancier names, if you think they sound sweeter..*

She rubbed the back of her back across her eyes absently. //Something with rabbit and milk in it, I think. Condensed milk's best for kits her age, and she was just living on whatever her mother brought her, before the scary lady with the brown hair picked her up while she was exploring and it's unfair for you to have to eviserate rats for the sake of a kitten. On the other pa...I mean, hand, what are you, if you don't mind me asking?//

-
*From Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. She likes the musical based off it.