Foraging

[Laurie Collins]

[[Made after my suggestion that the two new kids at the institute meet, but open to anyone who feels like joining in on the battle against stubborn condiment lids as well. The more the merrier and all that . Bonus: Laurie trys out that color posting thingie.]]

One of the advantages of going to a boarding school full of mutants, Laurie has realized in her short time at Xavier’s, is that the staff are far too busy dealing with small scale disasters caused by hormonal kids with the power to split the world in half to strictly enforce comparatively trifling things like attendance at group meals. Due to this happy set of circumstances Laurie has so far been able to eat in relative private by creeping down to the school’s kitchen at odd hours and grabbing a quick sandwich and glass of water before beating a quick retreat back to her room. It’s not that she’s trying to snub the other students or the faculty, everyone she’s met so far has actually seemed very nice and it’s refreshing not to hide what she can do from everyone she meets, but it takes more than a couple encounters with friendly people to break the habits of years. Even if she wasn’t afraid of unwittingly influencing someone to bring the school to rubble around their feet the fact remains that she hasn’t even attempted to form a friendship since the cure wore off, and even that short time had been a detour from a most hermetic lifestyle.

She’s relieved not to see anyone in the kitchen when she peers through the doorway now. She’d come down an hour ago already hungry for dinner and found four boys about her own age lounging around devouring cereal straight from the box while one entertained the others by making the pot-holders float around the room in a whirl of color, dashing her hopes for a full stomach before she began her homework. Now, with her biology reading done and a good dent in her English assignment, she’s ravenous and glad not to have to choose between uncomfortable social interaction and starvation. She wonders idly if it’s bad that she would seriously consider starvation before slipping through the door and into the kitchen.

“Now just let there be some chicken and mustard left for my sandwich and I’m good for the night.” she mutters in supplication to the Gods of the fridge, pausing before the appliance and crossing her fingers briefly before opening it. Hallelujah! she thinks wryly as the glow of the interior light reveals some sliced chicken in one drawer and an unopened jar of mustard on the shelf attached to the door. She gathers these materials, along with some lettuce and cheese, and arrays them carefully on the counter, unconsciously applying the same concentrated precision to sandwich making that she does to almost every aspect of her life except, seemingly, her appearance. It’s an amusing contrast, the neatly arranged gestures used on the meal’s preparation coming from a girl in an old white tee-shirt and green-plaid pajama bottoms that hang loosely on her skinny frame, un-styled blonde hair drifting into her face.

The process, however, comes to quick end as she tries to loosen the lid on the mustard jar and is met with unyielding opposition. She struggles with it for a minute, brow furrowed, and teeth snagging at her lower lip in consternation, but is all too quickly reduced to actually pleading with the jar, “Please open? Please? Come onnn…”

This is just pathetic. Maybe I should get this on tape for Congress, “The Mutant Threat in Action.”

[anna]

The search for coffee is on. Only, it’s not really that much of a search- she makes it often enough that she knows exactly where everything is, and could find it all blindfolded, if she had to. It’s more that she has to leave her room and unfinished drawing behind to get said caffeine that’s vaguely annoying, but the annoyance is pretty much forgotten by the time she’s halfway downstairs.

Once she arrives in the kitchen, she tosses a small smile of greeting towards the unfamiliar girl – who appears to be struggling with mustard – and moves straight to the coffeemaker, pulling the inset pitcher from it, stepping towards the sink, then pausing, sparing another glance the girl’s way and offering another smile.

“Need s'me help?”

[Tobias Smith]

Tobias typically never eats with the masses. When he is hungry, he takes his food somewhere private. The sound of countless people chewing, swallowing, guys making perverted small talk, (not that he has not said his fair share), girls rambling on about: new sales at their favorite stores, those cute football players, the perfection of their make up, and whether or not the parents of one of the girls will find out that their precious little girl has both herpes and is expecting a baby. Naturally, none of this interests or appeals to Tobias in any sense of the word. Nothing is different here at Xavier's, except for the talk being slightly less perverted, and the fact that all of the other students were mutants and could probably read his mind.

So Tobias walks into the kitchen, and expects it to be deserted so that he can eat in peace, only to find there are two girls in the kitchen, which completely destroys all hopes of him eating alone. Tobias sighs, and steps into the kitchen. He is, like always, wearing his black jacket, gloves, boots, shirt, pants, and even a scarf for no real reason. He glances at the fridge, hopes he isn't noticed, and spies one of the girls fighting one of man's greatest adversary: the unopened mustard jar. He chuckles slightly at the complete cliche that is happening infront of him. The pale lad enjoys the moment breifly, before he closes his eyes and allows everything around him to stop in their tracks.

With time stopped so neither of the girls will witness what he does, Tobias walks over to the jar, and attempts to open it. He grunts, and groans, dealing with the pressure of time, and the fact that the jar simply will not open. He tries again and again, before his frustration takes over and he rapidly hits the lid of the jar against the table's edge, which pops the lid off. He is sweating and tired now, and he sets the opened jar on the counter, before he spreads the mustard on the sandwich himself. He readies to start time again, before he thinks, Wait...why the Hell waste time making a new sandwich when there's one right here? So he takes the sandwich in his hand, walks over to where he entered, and starts time again, and mutters, "Thanks for the sandwich."

[Laurie Collins]

“Need s'me help?”

Laurie smiles in embarrassed gratitude at the older girl who’s wandered in and begun fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Um, actually, please if you don’t mi-“ The sandwich isn’t there anymore. A moment later she realizes the mustard jar isn’t either as her hand- muscles obviously not having adjusted to the lack of an object between her fingers while time was paused- snap into her palm with all the force she’d been using on the mustard jar and her tensed arm makes a strange flopping motion.

"Thanks for the sandwich."

She yelps as the voice sounds from somewhere to her left and half-trips, half-spins around to come face to face with a rather theatrically dressed boy who looks to be about her own age, maybe a year older. From the sardonic cast to his features he might be gearing up for a battle of the wits, or at least snipes, but if so he’s chosen a poor target- Laurie just blushes and looks confused, ducking her head and muttering something that sounds like “Er…you’re welcome?” at her shoes and looking rather as if she’s expecting Tobias to try that trick again and steal her eyes or something of the like this time.

Considering he’s just scared her and stolen her dinner she doesn’t feel so very badly on his account about the pheromones carrying her surprise/embarrassment/timidity/fear she’s releasing, but the girl who offered to help her and is also within range is another matter. “Sorry,” she apologizes, taking a quick breath as if preparing to recite a lesson learned by heart- which in a manner of speaking this is, she’s explained her mutation more in the past few days than in her whole life- “I emit pheromones… if I feel something unexpectedly they sort of… leak out… and everyone else feels it too.” she punctuates the explanation by raising her head slightly and giving Anna an apologetic smile, ignoring the threatening presence of the Unnamed And Slightly Intimidating Sandwich Stealer who is still somewhere to her left.

[Tobias Smith]

Tobias has already begun eating the sandwich when the girl he stole the sandwich from starts rambling on about her so-called 'pheromones.' In his opinion, it really is a very delicious sandwich. He couldn't have made one better. He chews and swallows so that he can say, Huh, all I feel is my hunger being satisfied, thank you very much.

To emphasize his lack of care, he takes another bite before something odd happens. He suddenly...cares, about what others are thinking about him, and that he's making a fool of himself. Fear? Embarrassment? Timidity? Tobias is not timid...well, he is now. That's all fine and well, but surprise? That is just plain weird to the black-clad teen.

His hands start to shake mildly, and his eye twitches, while he also stops mid-chew. He thinks, Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod! They're looking at me! What'd I do wrong? Why does this always happen!? As these thoughts pass through his mind, he lets his head hang, and ducks back into the shadows, while the rational part of his mind yells at him to not give a !(*@.