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	<title>4791/A trip to the kitchen - Revision history</title>
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		<title>BusTotem: Created page with &quot;{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/07/01 |Location=Xavier&#039;s School |Synopsis=Erika encounters X-23 in the kitchen, and they both manage to frighten each other. |Cast of Characte...&quot;</title>
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		<updated>2018-07-02T06:44:51Z</updated>

		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Created page with &amp;quot;{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/07/01 |Location=Xavier&amp;#039;s School |Synopsis=Erika encounters X-23 in the kitchen, and they both manage to frighten each other. |Cast of Characte...&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;New page&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;{{Log Header&lt;br /&gt;
|Date of Scene=2018/07/01&lt;br /&gt;
|Location=Xavier&amp;#039;s School&lt;br /&gt;
|Synopsis=Erika encounters X-23 in the kitchen, and they both manage to frighten each other.&lt;br /&gt;
|Cast of Characters=1795, 78&lt;br /&gt;
|pretty=yes&lt;br /&gt;
}}&lt;br /&gt;
{{Poses&lt;br /&gt;
|Poses=:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:1795|Erika Kristasdottir (1795)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Erika Kristasdottir suddenly realized that her messed up sleep schedule meant she really needed to get a bite to eat. She tried the dining hall, but.. it wasn&amp;#039;t meal time. Schedule ALL messed up. So she suddenly got the idea, hmm, maybe she should check the kitchen?&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Well, this can go a couple of different ways. After all, she doesn&amp;#039;t really know how to cook..... yet... Hmmmm. &amp;amp;lt;.&amp;amp;lt; &amp;amp;gt;.&amp;amp;gt;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;She slinks into the kitchen quietly, looking around to see if anybody else is around.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:78|X-23 (78)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Laura is in the kitchen herself, foraging for a snack. Half-buried in the refrigerator, the short girl is rummaging with a lot of clinking of bottles and containers.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:1795|Erika Kristasdottir (1795)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Erika Kristasdottir ohs. Someone else is foraging. She smiles from the door, &amp;quot;Hiya. Is there anything good?&amp;quot; She looks around the kitchen, trying to remember basically anything from cooking shows. knives, bowls.. there&amp;#039;s where they keep the disposable gloves and hairnets.. She checks closets and stuff. Hmmmm...&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:78|X-23 (78)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Laura looks up from the fridge. &amp;quot;Yes. Cookies are good.&amp;quot; It&amp;#039;s terse, to say the least. But she starts to take out the makings for a sandwich; meat, cheese, and the like. &amp;quot;I have not seen you before.&amp;quot;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:1795|Erika Kristasdottir (1795)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Erika Kristasdottir nods. &amp;quot;I JUST came here. Andrea and Josh brought me here because I was in a bad way. I&amp;#039;m Erika. Um.&amp;quot; Is there anything else it&amp;#039;s polite to say to that? Everything here has been pretty weird so far.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;She opens the closet door. Success! A frayed apron! Muahahaha. Insert mad scientist cackling here.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;She grabs the apron, holds it up over her head, and slides halfway out of her pullover, then swallows uneasily, steeling herself, and drops the apron down over her neck. &amp;quot;..Here goes..&amp;quot;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Her eyes flutter and she wobbles and sways unsteadily, whimpering and twitching a bit.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:78|X-23 (78)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;The girl looks back. &amp;quot;You can call me Laura.&amp;quot; she answers, when Erika gives her name. She watches the wobble and twitch, head tilted slightly. Unlike most people, there&amp;#039;s no &amp;quot;oh, are you okay?&amp;quot; sort of concern. At best, a mild curiosity. Finally, she asks &amp;quot;Are you sick?&amp;quot;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:1795|Erika Kristasdottir (1795)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Erika Kristasdottir blinks, shaking the last of the shock off. &amp;quot;No, I just don&amp;#039;t know how to cook, and I&amp;#039;m in a kitchen. Do you mind if I look in there?&amp;quot; She checks around the room again, then wanders over to the refrigerator, scent and stance very slightly different.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:78|X-23 (78)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;THAT is something she&amp;#039;ll notice right away. And not in a good way. The scent change immediately makes her paranoid. She literally /growls/ a bit, and asks &amp;quot;What happened?&amp;quot; Her hands ball into fists at her side.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:1795|Erika Kristasdottir (1795)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Erika Kristasdottir blinks. &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t know, I&amp;#039;m still figuring this stuff out. Why?&amp;quot; She looks around, obviously confused, and backs up a bit, opening her hands in hopes of being reassuring. &amp;quot;I was just going to cook something...&amp;quot;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:78|X-23 (78)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Laura looks anything but reassured. &amp;quot;Your scent changed. What did you do?&amp;quot; she asks again, taking a single step closer. In fight or flight, fight is definitely winning out here.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:1795|Erika Kristasdottir (1795)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Erika Kristasdottir acks, nervous and rapidly moving toward &amp;#039;scared&amp;#039;. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m.. &amp;#039;reading&amp;#039;.. the apron? Somebody else used it?&amp;quot; And that&amp;#039;s her limit of understanding her own powers. That one sentence. Right there. That&amp;#039;s it. She has no more explanations to offer. She debates on fleeing, but realizes that she isn&amp;#039;t exactly a track champion. run. pounce. chomp. no no, bad. Her back hits the back counter. No more room to retreat. Gulp.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:78|X-23 (78)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Laura watches, eyes narrowed. &amp;quot;How does that change your scent? Did they send you?&amp;quot; Apparently Erika is supposed to know who &amp;quot;they&amp;quot; are. The tiny brunette girl doesn&amp;#039;t LOOK physically imposing, but she&amp;#039;s certainly selling dangerous well.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:1795|Erika Kristasdottir (1795)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Erika Kristasdottir swallows hard. &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t know!? I just wanted dinner..&amp;quot; She pushes back against the counter helplessly, trapped, and looks around for any sort of help.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:78|X-23 (78)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Thankfully, being able to read scents as well as she can also serves reasonably well as a lie detector. People who are legitimately afraid smell like it. Laura backs off a bit, then moves off to the side. &amp;quot;Eat.&amp;quot; She&amp;#039;s still watching the other girl, though.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:1795|Erika Kristasdottir (1795)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Erika Kristasdottir shuffles in reasonable terror over to the refrigerator and opens it, watching you carefully. She bites her lip a bit, then starts pulling out fresh meats and cheese and vegetables.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Then she goes over to wash her hands and slip on some gloves, trading out the ones she is already wearing. She throws on a hair net, then grabs one of the cooking knives and quickly slices off a thin steak off the meat. Flips the cutting board. A couple of mushrooms get chopped. Whackwhackwhackwhack.Slide it off to the side. Flip the burner on. Grab a pan and twirl it in one hand and start it heating up, quick splash of oil. Seasonings are grabbed in a quick practiced motion from exactly where they go and are dashed onto the meat, rubbed in quickly, flipped into the pan to sizzle and fry, followed by the mushrooms....&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&amp;#039;Don&amp;#039;t know how to cook&amp;#039; - yeah right, in what universe?&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:78|X-23 (78)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Laura already didn&amp;#039;t trust her. This isn&amp;#039;t helping the issue. The brunette girl growls again, low, and turns to stalk out of the room. Hopefully no one gets in her way.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;{{#var:1795|Erika Kristasdottir (1795)}} has posed:&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;#039;&amp;lt;br&amp;gt;Erika Kristasdottir blinks and looks kind of concernedly at the retreating predator girl. She sighs a little, because she just... can&amp;#039;t explain any of what she&amp;#039;s DOING. She can&amp;#039;t even explain it to Xavier, and he&amp;#039;s the one who explained it to HER. So she just keeps quiet. Maybe somebody else can explain it later.&amp;lt;br&amp;gt; &amp;lt;br&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
}}&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>BusTotem</name></author>
	</entry>
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