Ginger had not had the best time lately. Between everything that had happened with Maleficent and everything going on between her and Peter lately, Ginger's head was a clusterfuck of a place to be. She was still having flashbacks to being one of them for that short while. She had been terrified--of herself, of having to stay with Damon, of whether or not it'd be a permanent thing after the bitch was gone. It was definitely not something that had helped her relationship with Peter at all. And neither was anything lately, it seemed. Her idea to try and start over hadn't exactly gone over the best. Sure, he'd agreed to it in the end, but he was hurt by it, which she didn't want. She just wanted a way to start over, to get to know the Peter he'd become, and try not to let her knolwedge of the Peter he used to be influence her. It wouldn't be easy, but she had to try.
One thing that Ginger's mother had taught her was how to cook. And bake. It was part of this whole ideal her mother had about things women just needed to know. Not that Ginger minded it. She'd liked the time it gave them together and honestly, the skills were useful. Plus, it gave her something to do when she had energy she didn't know what to do with. Or couldn't sleep. Or was stressed.
She headed down to the complex kitchen, not sure what she intended on making but definitely intent on baking. She noticed the girl standing there by the table and the assorted items on the table behind her. Ginger's eyebrows shot up at the concotion. "What is that?" she couldn't help the words flooding past her lips. The...thing looked disgusting for oh so many reasons.