Time for a brew =[Open]=

[Megan Drukker]

Tea.

Now.

Normally the whole 'living up to the stereotype' thing would bug her more, but right now Megan couldn't care less. It's her first official morning here, she hasn't slept (firstly there'd been the time-difference, and then the discovery that, after a few blinks where her vision had gone nuts, she could read apparently read in the dark now...) and, damnit, she has to have that cuppa. Now. Or there will be blood.

There has to be some around here somewhere, doesn't there? Thus far her far-from-tentative rummaging have yielded... nothing. With a deep sigh she flops to her knees, giving the cupboards a I'm not done with you yet glare and planning her next move.

... on the scale of weird sights in the Institute, a wild-haired girl in pyjamas and Cthulu slippers slouched amidst a chaos of pans and packaged goods, until recently the inhabitants of the kitchen's many cupboards, can't qualify that highly, right? Maybe she'll blend in and no one will notice the one-woman tornado that has ripped through.

... hey, she can dream, right?

[Veronica Devereux]

[Directly after the mall stint Terra pulled.]

What could one possibly have done to end up with a baby in their possession? Is it that they're a mutant, and god is punishing them, or maybe it's 'cause of a little stint for Playboy? Whatever the reason, Veronica had been the oh so lucky woman to win a baby today. Yes a baby, one that eats, sleeps, burps, and screams...Oh can that child scream. Thank whoever she had, the baby cradled in Veronica's arms was sound asleep, sucking on her ring finger, an occasional nibble here and there.

Upon first glance, it's obvious the blonde has been all over Christ and Creation. Her clothes, a pink tank top and matching mini skirt, are caked with dirt and powered ceiling and happened to be ripped in several uncomfortable places, tanned skin viewable from all angles. The infant in her arms, bless its little heart, had several bruises covering its arms and legs, a tattered blanket clutched tightly in its grasp.

"Why me? Why did-- What the hell!?" OK, the last part was a slip up, but she didn't expect the kitchen to be in total disarray. Food had been thrown to the other side of the room, some of it's contents spilling on to the floor, while pans lay upside down, teetering on the edges of the counters. Had a mini tornado ransacked the kitchen while she was gone? The answer is no, the person who should be held responsible was kneeling among the scattered items, her eyes glaring sharply at the cupboard nearest to her.

"Uhm.." Veronica managed to mutter. Should she grab the attention of the somewhat mad woman on the floor? Why the hell not, it's not like she had anything interesting going on, other than the seven-month old nestled in her arms."I'm sure whatever the kitchen did to you can all be worked out through -ha ha- therapy." she joked, a laugh interrupting her words. It wasn't often someone saw a kitchen destroyed like this, so she had to take it all in...And think of every joke possible to use."Or, are you aiming to be the new Britney Spears? 'Cause you know, you'd have to be able to sing and dance and all.. I wanted to be like Britney when I was growing up, and i still do..Er, not the drugs and shaving her head, but all the music and being a sex symbol, ya know?"

[Megan Drukker]

... hmmph. Clearly her best death glare is somewhat less effective over here, as the cupboards point blank refuse to cough up the necessary information.

< Why me? What did - What the hell?
Meg flicks her head round in the direction of the noise - so much, too, for hoping the drama would go unnoticed... Another new face. Seriously, what is it with this 'meeting people in embarrassing situations' thing?

Clearly, though, the blonde is having a far worse day than she is (noticing the dust, Meg shoots a careful glance at the ceiling - no way she'd caused that much damage, right? Right. It's still there. Good).

< I'm sure whatever the kitchen did to you can all be worked out through -ha ha- therapy.
... funny chick, this one. Meg shoots her a distinctly unimpressed side-glare, and rolls her eyes, getting back up to her feet. There's still a cupboard or two which hasn't been treated to her brand of interrogation yet (mostly because they're up slightly too high for her to reach, grr...). If she balances on the counter, then maybe...

< Or, are you aiming to be the new Britney Spears? 'Cause you know, you'd have to be able to sing and dance and all..
.... she sure can yammer when she gets going, whoever this disheveled lass is. Poor kid's going to have its ears talked off at this rate.

"Britney 'oo?" Having found her balance on the counter top, Megan swings the cupboard door open and sets to rummaging again. "Oh, right, that bint... 'ad one of 'er tapes when I was a dwt n'all... weren't ever that impressed with 'er really..."

... not Tea. Not Tea... Meg tosses the offending packages over her shoulder as she continues rummaging, adding to the pile on the floor.

< I wanted to be like Britney when I was growing up, and i still do..Er, not the drugs and shaving her head, but all the music and being a sex symbol, ya know?
Megan casts another glance towards the other girl, this time more considered, as if weighing her up, before shrugging.

"Well, y'totin' a sprog, an' flashin' y'flesh... an' y'look like y'been dragged through an 'edge backwards. So y'r off t'a good start." she grins.

[Veronica Devereux]

"Britney 'oo?" How could you not know who Britney was? She'd only been on the news every second of the day. And what was with the accent? It seemed British, but for all she knew it could have been Gibberish!"Oh, right, that bint... 'ad one of 'er tapes when I was a dwt n'all... weren't ever that impressed with 'er really..." That was more like it, although Veronica was having some trouble trying, trying being the operative word here, to translate the girl's words. Bint must be something along the lines of psychopath and dwt should be a baby or toddler.

"I had her Cd's when I was little, blasted 'em from my stereo whenever I could. It drove my parents up the walls." she giggled. The sound of food falling to the floor caught her attention; the girl managed to climb on top of the counters and ransack yet another cabinet."What are you looking for?" If she was hungry, there was bound to be food in the refrigerator, unless she demolished that too. A quick side glance, and the fridge was still there, food and all.

"Well, y'totin' a sprog, an' flashin' y'flesh... an' y'look like y'been dragged through an 'edge backwards. So y'r off t'a good start." The blonde's brow furrowed, her brain picking apart each word, processing them. What was a sprog? Was it a chi- Oh, the baby! Glancing down at the infant, she happened to notice a large cut in her shirt than ran from her shoulder down to her waist, the fabric frayed from the incision."Well," she returned the girl's grin,"I wasn't trying to look like this on purpose, although I could pull it off." With an exaggerated waggle of her eyebrows, she swayed her hips, as if dancing. Stopping mid sway, her hip cocked to one side as she raised an eyebrow at the girl."Well, think I could make it?"

[Megan Drukker]

< What are you looking for?
"Tea" she responds, as if it's perfectly natural she should be climbing on the furniture and wreaking havoc throughout the kitchen in search of a beverage...

... when the normal thing to do would be ask, wouldn't it? Maybe this girl knows where the tea is. Megan veritably bounces down off the counter (sending more things clattering to the floor with a misplaced footstep, an over-extended flail...), expectant, rattling off her harsh Welsh syllables like machine gun fire in her eagerness. "Cos I coul' rightly murder a cup an' all... an' it's no' easy t'find anythin' in 'ere. Y'don' know where they're keepin' it, d'y?"

< I wasn't trying to look like this on purpose, although I could pull it off. Well, think I could make it?
Megan snorts, half derisive, half almost (in spite of herself) amused at the blonde's carrying on. Adjusting her footing, leaning back on her back leg and looking sidelong at the other girl as if seriously appraising her performance (from a purely academic viewpoint, of course...) - "Hmm..." - she shrugs.

"Y'got as good a shot as any rauni this side of the bori lon pani, s'far as I'm reckonin'... can' rightly judge nothin' til I 'as my tea, though." she grins, tossing the girl a wink. "Mebbe y'can give m'a repeat performance then."

<sub>- rauni - woman / lady
- the bori lon pani - the 'great salt water', aka the Ocean</sub>

[Veronica Devereux]

<"Tea" Ah yes, because that seems to be the desire of every person climbing the counters in a giant kitchen. Nodding her head, as if acknowledging that it was alright with her that she monkeyed around on the counters. Watching the new female jump down from the counters, Veronica flinched at the sound of more objects clattering to the floor, worried the sounds would wake up the still sleeping baby.

<"Cos I coul' rightly murder a cup an' all... an' it's no' easy t'find anythin' in 'ere. Y'don' know where they're keepin' it, d'y?" Hmm, tea. Where was the tea? Tiptoeing through the sea of fallen food, she eventually made her way over to the large refrigerator, grasping the large handle in her hands. Yanking at it, the blonde allowed the door to swing back, crashing into the counter near it. Arching her feet, she used her magical ability to stand on her tiptoes ('Cause no else can do it, of course.) and scanned the top shelf of the fridge. Spotting the small box of tea bags next to the carton of milk, she tossed the box over her shoulder, hoping that her new found friend would catch it.

Tapping the door with her index finger, Veronica watched as the door slowly closed,keeping the cold from escaping. Leaping up onto the counter behind her, she leaned back wards, allowing the baby to rest on her chest."Hmm...Y'got as good a shot as any rauni this side of the bori lon pani, s'far as I'm reckonin'... can' rightly judge nothin' til I 'as my tea, though.Mebbe y'can give m'a repeat performance then." Catching the girl's wink, she immediately returned it; An instant reflex. Shrugging, she chewed on her bottom lip, as if deep in thought. I'm sure I can find someway to squeeze you in."

[Megan Drukker]

... and there's the tea.

Of course, it's perfectly rational that she missed it, because who the hell keeps tea in the fridge of all places? It's just not normal. 'course it isn't, it's American[/i] she thinks to herself with a slight grin, dropping to her knees and skidding along the floor to catch the tossed packet (and crashing into the pots again, but whatever, the catch is still a good one....).

... now, where's the kettle?

The rational thing might be to ask the other girl, given that she's been so very helpful... as is, she scans for what she thinks a long enough period (around 30 seconds, give or, more likely, take...) and gives up, the appliance not being immediately apparent. Not to worry, though; there's more than one way to heat water, and the saucepans are easy enough to spot (and slightly more dented than they were before her administrations, but hopefully no one will notice).

Megan grabs a pan and heads to the sink, filling it up with water before heading the stove which... woah, that's a lot of buttons.

Somehow, this 'all mod cons' thing looks like it's going to turn out to be more of a problem than a boon; she wonders whether they'd let her get away with moving into the garden and cooking over a fire.

< I'm sure I can find someway to squeeze you in
Turning back around at the girl's words, she smirks, impishly, depositing both pan and packet on the stove top and miming opening a diary, flicking through pages. Having arrived on the right imaginary page, she pulls an imaginary pen from behind her ear and turns her gaze back to her companion, pretending to suck the end contemplatively as she surveys the page... "Well, tha's good to 'ear, love... when an' where's good f'you? An' ...." - it occurs to her that they haven't been introduced - " 'oo am I pencilin' in?"