Players:
Summary: Taylor and Sophie have a brief encounter in the Kitchen at Xavier's.
Log Title: Where's the Jam?!
Rating: PG
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.
Scene
Late in the evening at the Xavier mansion, and all is quiet… except in the kitchn, where someone is busy rummaging around. Sophie has several cupboards open, and is rather frantically running her hands over the various tins and jars inside, all the while muttering angrily in Spanish. She peels the lid off one jar and holds it under her nose, sniffing at the contents before shoving them off to the side, and repeating the process with another jar, then another, and another. Meanwhile, the toaster standing amidst all this mess pops, disgorging two perfectly toasted slices of bread, and drawing a loud sigh from the blind girl.
Silently, Taylor stalks into the kitchen. Not that the feline student is really thinking about being particularly stealthy, it just seems to come rather naturally. There is a pause, though, and Taylor headtilts lightly in Sophie's direction, asking, "You alright there? I don't understand Spanish."
Sophie jumps visibly, and it is fortunate that the glass jar in her hand is tough and resilient, as it goes flying out of her hand and bounces across the floor. "…Goodness!" Sophie turns to face in Taylor's general direction, and her left hand alights over her heart. "Don't sneak up on me like that, please, you startled me." She sweeps her cane around herself, looking for the jar but failing to find it. "Perhaps I am being overly picky. But I wanted to make toast with strabwerry jam, only I cannot find the jam. …Honestly!" She throws her arms up in frustration, the cane dangling by the loop around her wrist. "Can people not put things back where they found them? There are blind people in this school! More than one of us! How are we to find things if they are constantly shuffled around into different places?"
"Oh… um, I guess I never really thought about it," admits Taylor, considering, "Not that I use… jam. Or anything that's not like. Meat…" The feline student shrugs and says, "And I wasn't sneaking, just walking. I walk soft, I guess." The student peers into the fridge and says, "I see something with a picture of a strawberry on it. Want me to grab it?"
"Oh? …Si. Please." The blind girl turns to wave her hand about, until she feels the heat from the toaster; she deftly plucks the two slices from the machine, and deposits them on a waiting plate. "I am sorry for snapping at you. It is only that I am frustrated, si? Sometimes when things that ought to be easy turn into difficult tasks, I may find it difficult not to let it irritate me."
Taylor reaches into the fridge and pulls out the strawberry jam, offering it to Sophie by pressing it lightly against her hand, "I guess I can understand that… still, can't control if I'm stepping lightly. Just a thing I do now. I guess you can't tell I look like a cat thing…"
Sophie shakes her head slowly. "No, it is I who should be sorry," she replies, as she closes her fingers around the jar. "I was frustrated at something beyond your control, and I snapped at you because you were convenient for snapping at. It was wrong of me." She turns, unscrewing the lid of the jar and feeling carefully for her toast, carefully setting about spreading jam across the two slices. "And si, you are correct; I cannot tell these things. …I remember the cat from the orphanage where I grew up; I always thought he looked very cunning, and wise. You must look cunning also, si?"
Sophie shakes her head slowly. "No, it is I who should be sorry," she replies, as she closes her fingers around the jar. "I was frustrated at something beyond your control, and I snapped at you because you were convenient for snapping at. It was wrong of me." She turns, unscrewing the lid of the jar and feeling carefully for her toast, carefully setting about spreading jam across the two slices. "And si, you are correct; I cannot tell these things. …I remember the cat from the orphanage where I grew up; I always thought he looked very cunning, and wise. You must look cunning also, si?"
"I don't just look it, you know!" corrects Taylor, grinning at that and then opening the freezer to peer inside, "But I think I just look more. Catty. Like a wild, spotted cat."
Sophie turns, now holding a plate in one hand. "Would you like a piece of toast?" she offers. "I've got two, I don't mind sharing." She plucks one off the plate with her free hand, and takes a bite; the bread crunches audidbly between her teeth as she chews and swallows. "Still warm, too. Well, if you can still eat bread, si?"
"Oh. Sure, yeah. I can still eat toast okay. Just nothing too green…" says Taylor, looking towards the toast on the bread, "But the jam might make it less pleasant, so I'd say you keep it."
Sophie ahhs softly. "Akright," she murmurs. "But, there's still plenty of bread left, and butter in the fridge? You could make some of your own and fix it up how you like if you wish." She pauses, taking another bite in the silence. "So," she murmurs after swallowing, "What is it like, being a cat? …Can you see in the dark?"
"I'm not a cat. I look like a cat, but I'm still a person," correct Taylor, rather sternly and quickly, "Still human. But yeah, I can see in the dark. And I'm good at smelling, too."
A soft blush colors the blind girl's cheeks, and she ahems softly. "Sorry," she murmurs. "This is what I meant. I do not mean to imply otherwise; it is only, English is not my first language, and sometimes I make mistakes in how I say something, si? I pray you forgive me." She bobs her head once. "Just the same… seeing in the dark must be something, si? I imagine that would have its uses."
"I guess. I don't have to turn on lamps anymore at night. It's kind of odd, it doesn't make any difference to me if they're on or if they're off," says Taylor, head tilted lightly, "And it's fine. I just… I guess I'm sensitive about it."
The blind girl continues to munch on her toast, happily polishing off the first slice in short order. "I think this is normal, si?" Sophie shrugs lightly. "When people change, and it is not by their choice… it is like it is a shock to them. An affront to who they are, a… a loss of who they are, if that mekes sense? …It took me a very long time to accept that I will never see again, when I lost my sight. For you I think it is the same, in a way, si?"
"Yeah, I guess it's about the same…" says Taylor, shrugging lightly, "I mean, not exactly, but… my face, my body, it'll never be the same, unless I can learn to change, but I've been told it's permanent…"
Sophie shakes her head slowly. "I understand," she murmurs. "But, your mind, and your soul… they are the same, si? You are still you, even if you have changed." She takes a bite out of her remaining piece of toast, and shrugs her shoulders lightly. "I am sorry… I do not mean to intrude, though I hope I can be of some help, even so."
"My mind is… Yeah, I'd say it's the same, except sometimes I feel like I lose it, but, yeah," says Taylor, headshaking lightly, "I'm hoping that's not going to be forever…"
"Well… if ever you feel you need to talk, you may talk to me, si?" Sophie bobs her head. "I will always listen." The blind girl makes short work of what's left of her toast, before she starts making her way around the room with the used plate, tapping ahead of her with her cane as she goes. "The dishwasher, it is on this side, right?"
"Yeah, it is," says Taylor, peering on over towards Sophie, and then nodding once, "And I guess I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the offer."
~ Fin ~
