Players:
Summary: Pop-Tarts are inadvertently taken. Conversation ensues.
Date: April 27, 2010
Pop Tarts
Rating: G
Xavier Mansion - Kitchen
This kitchen was designed to feed large numbers of people, and looks it with its bright white walls and stainless steel appliances. The stove, refrigerator, and dishwasher are all larger than normal. There is an island with stools around it for people to sit and eat around along with a table for twelve by the windows in back. Along the wall is a hole in the wall looking into the dining room so food can be passed back and fourth. Anything you want to cook or eat in the kitchen you will find the food and supplies to do so.
Tara can be found in the Kitchen, having gotten a little bit peckish in the afternoon. She's sitting on the counter, wearing a reddish brown pleated knee length skirt, some black leggings underneath and a bland cream colored button down blouse. She's got a box of pop-tarts in a hand, the box covered in writing reading, 'Belongs to Lucas - Touch and he will kill you.' In the other she's got a pop-tart, already half eaten.
The door to the kitchen opens and then closes before a somewhat familiar voice can be heard by Tara, "You know… somehow it's appropriate that the one thing you go for in the pantry is marked for someone else…" Chuckling a bit, Connor slips by and makes his way towards the pantry to find something else to eat, "Unless of course he gave you permission." Pulling a few things down, the young man seems to be grabbing the stuff to makes some spaghetti.
Tara scoots over on the counter to give Connor some room in making his food. Her head tilts down as she makes a show of 'looking' at the box before shrugging. "I didn't see anything." she says matter-of-factly. "Though I was wondering why somebody would stuff a perfectly good box of pop-tarts in the back of the pantry." She takes another bite out of the pop-tart before asking, "Whose is it?"
Wandering past the kitchen on his way to the Rec Room, Mike Drakos notices that Tara and Connor are in there, and decides to pop in as well. Pop. Get it? No nevermind, that would make Tara a tart and that would get him a TK assisted slap. Mike's inner dialogue would get him that slap anyway if Tara was telepathic.
"Hey, guysz, Tara, why are you eating Lucas's sacred poptarts?"
He walks over to the sink and gets a small glass of water. Might as well refill his water tank.
Connor exhales softly as he uncorks a container of marinara and stops it into a saucepan to warm up, then some water, salt, and oil from the sink and spices to get the pot ready for the pasta. Putting it all on, he then turns back to face the blind girl, "If you want, I'll see about getting him some more when I get a chance to go off-grounds… shouldn't be too hard to find. But you're going to have to fess up to it. At least since you're blind… you were actually ignorant in this case." Leaning on the counter, he looks back and forth, "Hey Mike… haven't seen you in a bit. Your speech device is a little off… you're buzzing Zs onto things."
Tara scowls at the box for a moment before flipping the lid closed and sighs. "Guess I owe him one, then." The box floats up out of her hands, goes over to a cupboard, which opens for it, and then places itself back where it was. "I'll have to hunt him down and tell him about it."
While mixing pink powder into his glass of water, Mike makes the R2D2 raspberry sound. With his voicebox AND playing a sample at the same time. Stereo Retort! "I'm beinng lazy, so I souund more auto-tune thaan uzzual."
He reaches over and tries to stealth-hug Tara. "Hunting him down soundz like fun. Be vewwy vewwy quiet, I'm hunting Wucas heheheheh."
He looks back over at Connor, "So, are you going to eat a big meal beforre our Dangerr oom zeshhion? Hank probbably won't have uz run laps."
Connor looks back at Mike again, smirking at him, "We've got a couple hours… plenty of time to carb up… and lately… using my powers seems to make me hungry and tired lately… muscle soreness… some weird static in my brain… nothing cures that like comfort food. I'm doing spaghetti Tara… want any?" Making his way over to pat the chassis of one, and then moves to the fridge to pull out some hamburger.
Tara returns Mike's hug with one of her own. "Heh. I'd worry that the news might put him in a fowl mood, but, you know, that wouldn't be much of a change for him." She finishes off the pop tart that she's already half eaten. Hell, the damage is already done to that one so she might as well enjoy it. "Naw, I'm good, Connor." she says. "I'm going to head to the gym in an hour or so and work out some."
"I remember eating. I kinda don't go to the cafeteria much lately cauze someone tried to steal a sip off my thermos, and spillled it when they got szick. I would've laughed but, ick."
Mike pulls a car-key from his pocket. "SO this is the key to tonight'sz session, Chase."
Connor plucks the key up and looks at it, before asking, "Any idea what tonight's brainbender is going to be? Honestly… I think it would be more fun if every session didn't feel like a pop quiz too. I really admire Doctor McCoy… but seriously…" Shaking his head as he gets a skillet and begins to brown the ground round, "So Tara… how's things? Last time we spoke you were still prickly at me. And… well… Lucas is Lucas… he's going to be in a mood no matter what you do. If he was Italian, they'd call it passion… but I think he's from the midwest… and I don't know what they call a bucket of stubborn."
Tara shrugs at that and starts swinging her feet as they dangle from the counter. "Enh. You recognized the superior sex and apologized, so it's all good," she says, quirking a teasing grin at Connor. "I grew up with a bunch of boys, so I'm used to them pulling stupid crap all the time. If I kept a grudge for every idiot thing they did we'd have killed each other for now."
Mike grins internally at the highly self-analytical Connor. If he ever stops being that, Mike will worry that he HAS been invaded by an alien mind.
"Seriouszly? I think he makez it up on the fly, but the Meck-Mobile is now in the house, so I can sstart doing more aggressive use of powersz. Whiich reminds me, Tara? Do you remember when we were fighting Marauder-Howl? Did you notisze that your senzory range was laarger?"
Connor turns his head to look back, "Heh…I'm the oldest sibling in my house… so I think I get it, Tara." Before going back to the task… and filching a bit of cooking wine to add to the meat as it bubbles, creating a wonderful smell as some garlic is added on top, "Sounds like tonight's going to be interesting, Meck." Falling a bit silent on the Marauder's topic since it's one he's not familiar with… of if he was… he's not saying anything.
Tara kicks her legs thoughtfully at the question, her heels banging into the counter softly. "Yeah, I think. Kinda. It was all going by too fast."
Mike nods thoughtfully, sipping at the smelly pink liquid. Mmmm, windshield washer fluid!
"I think," he says while sipping, "that we were in the first level of synch. Iif we had gone more, you woould have haad my sensze of sight to uze as welll. I don't know hoow that worksz for szomone who haszn't got the szame corresponnnding neurraal net."
He doesn't comment on the lovely smell of garlic. Can't smell it. It's neither toxic gas, nor is it something in the narrow range of what he can "consume" like it were food.
Connor finishes the meat and scrapes it into the heating marinara before taking it over to wash, sniffing once and smelling the wiper fluid, making a bit of a face, before adding, "So you guys ran into someone that made your abilities more powerful? Huh… that could be useful… and dangerous. I mean… you're used to what you know… moving beyond that can have consequences…" almost seeming to muse to himself as the pasta is put in, "Last chance, Tara.. I can just make enough for myself and a little plate for you?"
Tara raises a hand to stave off the offer. "No thanks," she says and shrugs at Mike. "I don't know. Everybody's been trying to find ways to get me to 'see' but I'm really not that interested in it," she admits. "I think Robyn finally got it, but I've been blind my whole life. I'm happy with the way that I am and I'm comfortable with my abilities. It's just not a big deal for me."
Mike nods. "I can understand that, Tara. No disrezpect intended either. I kinda had a selfish secondary motive though. If you CAN see by using my szensory web then it saayzs something about how it worksz."
He turns to Connor, "Nah, this izn't making anything more powerful. When I synch with my driver there's a connection that letsz us share driving skill and sensesz. But it's dangerousz cause I can sometimesz try to convince them to like it more, and that… you ever read Ringworld? You know what a Tasp isz?"
The robot-teen rinses out the glass and puts it in the "dirty" stack, then stands arms-crossed at-ease waiting for Connor to get to a point in cooking where conversation won't interrupt.
Connor immediately takes up the glass and cleans it, almost without even thinking, tilting his head a few times, "I get you Tara… in a way it's the same with James… with Lucas… with a lot of people here. There are things everyone has come to terms with… have learned to deal… so why does it matter then that you would want to overcome it." Then a sigh, "I don't know what a Tasp is… I never got into Ringworld. Closest thing I ever read was Harry Harrison's Stainless Steel Rat series, or Dan Simmons' Hyperion trilogy. And even then more colloqiual terms were used.. for the most part."
Tara tilts her head at the turn the conversation has gone. "Ringwhat?" Science Fiction was never Tara's strong suit. To Connor she states, rather matter-of-factly, "There's nothing to overcome. Anybody could have mistakenly eaten those pop-tarts."
Alas! Nobody else was read to from the classics as a pre-teen! He nods at Tara's pronouncement of untraceability, "Yeah, but you've already said you'd do the right thing and tell him. I suggezt a szmall round rock go on top of hizs boxesz so you can tell that they're his."
He goes back to the Tasp remark… "A Tasp is a device that stimulates the pleasure centers of the brain. In the novel they were used by people who were esszentially saying Have a Nice Day and forcing it to be true, but forr some people, they called them wireheadzs, they could become addicted."
Connor gets the pasta out of the boiling water in time, and drops it on a plate after draining. Sauce comes up and it goes over… and then finally he gets some cheese from the fridge and sprinkles it over the top. Before he even eats though… as with anything else, he cools, washes, and clears the pots and pans he was using well before sitting down across from the group to eat quickly, "Ugh… Wow… that's just… insidious. So… you synch up with your driver… and share senses, but you're not talking gestalt or symbiosis… are you… it's more like… you're piggybacking on top of each other…" Then… in true fashion, just a work… swirl, slurp, and chew.
Tara looks a little lost at all this tech-talk, so she just sits there, listening and silent as she bangs her heels against the counters..
Watching Connor compulsively clean, the robotic kid wonders how anyone can live like that. But yay! no facial expressions, so it doesn't get out unless Mike tries to make it show.
He leans aginst the counter next to Tara, and says, "Exactly like that. It'sz kinda like riding a horsze, connected but not really the same, but when it worksz it's great."
Connor chomps down another bite, then scoops up some meat and eats it quickly, popping it back and burping slightly, before saying, "Excuse me." And then looks to Tara, "Sorry… we read WAY too much science fiction… we're talking about merging of minds. A gestalt is literally when two or more beings become one… sharing everything. A symbiosis is two minds cohabitating… kinda like you and your roommate. Both of you can individually exist in the same space, can affect it… but your reactions and responses are differing." Looking back to Mike to see if he got it correct, while at the same time he gets more of his dinner into himself.
"Gestalt…." muses Tara, before she suddenly figures it out. "Oh! Like Power Rangers!"
GEEK ON! "Go go Power Rangers!" someone sings in the background — Mike's got that SAMPLED?! The song continues for a moment while he tries to figure out the winning response, then it fades down so he can respond.
"Not _precisely_ like that, but not completely wrong either. A gestalt, besides being a german who is playing a temporary character on a roleplaying guild on your favorite MMO, would also be a collective that works closely together. Like the cells in your body are a gestalt. Or the Power Rangers in the end-of-season final battle when they would all get together and fight brilliantly as a single unit."
Connor laughs a bit, and then takes another bite, chewing away quickly before reply, "Oh great… three Sentai fans trapped in the same room." Looking back and forth as he then adds, "A better analogy would be how the Power Rangers perform in their Zords. When it gets damaged, they feel the pain, and it tends to be affected by their emotions. Like they have some, but not full control. Personally… I like Power Rangers in Space, and Galaxy… after those two, it would be Mystic Force. Best episode ever done though was Dino Thunder, when they had the English actors watching and commenting on a Japanese Episode."
"That's what I meant," Tara says to Mike, "With them all together in their Zords making the big Voltron type thing." She shakes her head at Connor. "I never really got into the Power Rangers. The American acting was too corny for me."
"Yeah, that's gestalt… I didn't so much like the vehicle-versions. They kept coming up with dumb ideas and things that just couldn't work that way. But I liked Space Patrol Delta a LOT, and I guess Mystic Force wasn't too bad except for the Green Ranger episode where he got the Strength of the Earth and his LEGS stayed SKINNY. Gah."
Mike makes the Retch Motion, which is entirely symbolic in this version.
"And Tara, it could be easier to get into if you could tell that they were wearing these amazingly stupid costumes in BRIGHT colors, and that in the costumes they looked different from scene to scene. Amazingly."
Connor's food seems to disappear as rapidly as it was made, and then he takes his things to the sink to wash, "To be honest… that's part of WHY I loved it… it was so horrible there was something good to it. But… the spirit of things is something you can never get the kind of plots and ideas that come from it. At least not since the eighties, and early nineties. Anyways… I need to digest, and we have a session to get ready for." That being said he finishes up his dishes, and puts everything up and away, even stopping for a moment and rearranging the plates as their set, putting the oldest on top… stopping as he winces and says, "I'm doing it again, aren't I."
Tara chuckles. "Yeah. My brothers would tell me all about it. Only Ni-Chan seemed to understand that for me that drama and plot mattered more than flashy explosions. So he got me into Yaoi." To Connor she grins. "Yup." She isn't sure what 'it' is, but she's sure he's doing it.
Mike peers solemnly at Connor and nods once. "So, did your parents come in and move all your stuff in the night? Or is this a 'power control issues' thing happening here?"
He nudges Tara when she says 'yaoi' … "This school must be pure heaven for you then, right?"
Connor shakes his head, and then grumbles softly, "Not funny Mike… yeah… it's the thing again… stupid OCD… ever since Christmas it's gotten worse. Why do you think I get fidgety when I'm in a messy room…" Sounding slightly bitter about it as he shoves his hands in his pockets.
Tara clasps her hands in front of her and her eyes get all big. If she could do the anime twinkle star eye effect she would at this point in time. "Ohmygod, all the gay guys here are so cuuuuuuuuute! It's totally awesome."
"Yeah, even the ones who took off were cute to some extent. Really, as far as I can tell, it's that Mutant Gorgeousness Gene, which seems pretty widespread."
That gives Mike some time to think about how to do damage control to the connection with Connor because, nothing like bluntly poking at a problem by mistake… Especially with a squadmate. We're supposed to take care of those guys especially.
"So, was the OCD thing there before the power, and if so did you get any treatment? Is there anything we can do to help?"
Connor smirks a bit at the comment, "Fine… so you perv over gay guys… what about the straight ones, or the ones like me who really haven't decided? I'd like to think I'm cute… unless of course I don't meet your ridiculously high standards in the first place." But then leans back on a counter, his hands in his pockets firmly, "Okay… I've had it since I was twelve or thirteen… my therapist said it was a result of being considered crazy so often because I saw him, I'd developed it as a sort of coping mechanism. But then… late December, early January… it suddenly got worse, and the blackouts began. A couple months after that… I got discovered." Looking back and forth between the two, "Weird huh? All of my real manifestations and problems didn't happen until recently."
Tara wrinkles her nose in disgust and sticks her tongue out at Connor. "You're not my type," she says, and then sighs wearily. "Why do all the guys want to get into my pants? I'm built like a twelve year old. Talk about pervy."
Connor's revelation elicits a "Wait whut?" from Mike.
"You were seing a therapist at twelve or thirteen and other kids thought that meant you were crazy? Weren't there teachers and other adults with mallets of resetting stupid kid stupidity?"
And at her protestation, Mike looks steadily at Tara. "Uh, no, you're not quite built like a twelve year old. You've got the whole 'gamin' thing going though. And you're quite pretty. But your pants are too small for me."
Connor sticks his tongue out back at Tara, "I never said I wanted IN your pants… don't give me that look… I just was asking if I was cute by your standards… oi." Eyerolling before looking towards Mike, "Despite how well-adjusted I appear… kids are kids… kids are the most brilliantly creative and coldly cruel beings on the planet. Only a child would latch onto an idea so ludicrous and pursue it." Giving a soft shrug before he adds, "Teachers can say what they want… until High School, I was Crazy Kid."
Connor adds softly, "Not many called me it… but it was there. Another reason I didn't have too many friends."
Tara shrugs at Connor. "We all have our own little damage. A little OCD ain't nothing to be ashamed of." She kicks her heels against the counter some more, and absentmindedly smooths out her skirt. "I never let it bother me."
"Ugh, yes, they can be asses. Of course so can adults," Mike says in an emotion-free tone.
"Also, yes, you're cute by most standards, Connor, you map at about 97% to the standardized perfect face, your body is OK for a skinny guy who needs to eat more but I'm told my opinions in that respect are warped, and you have a charming smile. I know that at least three straight girls in English class were whispering speculatively rude things about you yesterday. If the fuzzy bat boy were here he'd have already tried to jump your bones."
He shrugs. "I was never at a school long enough to get a persistent rap like that. I'm kinda glad sometimes."
Connor pushes up off the counter, and with his hands still in his pockets, he begins making his way towards the door… but then stops, and puts a hand on Tara's shoulder for a moment, giving Mike a smile, "Okay… Mike…I really don't know how to take that… I'll settle for bashful, but slightly disturbed…" With a bit of a shrug he then walks by Mike and bangs on his side a couple times, "See you in the DR, Ironhide… nice to see you again Tara. Oh… I've got some books on CD if you'd like them… some audio drama stuff… if you're interested, just leave me a note."
Tara gives Mike a swift kick in the thigh when Mike pulls his creepy robot boy routine. "You're slipping into Mr. Roboto mode again," she says to him. She tilts her head at Connor's suggestion. "I'll think about it. I've got my hands full with classes right now, though, so I don't have a lot of free time on my hands."
Mike waves at Tara on his way out, mock-limping. He says, "Will see you in a bit, Connor."
