10013/Molting Season

Molting Season
Date of Scene:	12 November 2019
Location:	Shannon's Room (East Halls), Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Shannon and Gwendolyn bond over wing grooming and the most decadent hot cocoa. Christmas plans are made, and a pillow fight ensues! Pidgeotto, I choose you!
Cast of Characters:	Nightingale, Dragonfly (Armenteros)

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Nightingale has posed:
     There were two things that could make the normally unflappable Shannon molt. Unfortunately, the seasons--more specifically the middle to latter part of autumn, and spring--were one of them. By now, a couple of days into the start of molting season, coupled with other factors, her wings were looking decidedly ragged. She's perched on the middle of her bed right now, in her red tartan sweatpants, sheepdog slippers, and baggy grey tank top, with her wings spread and her fingers working through the feathers trying to smooth them out. "So glad Sam can't see this," she mutters. "He'd be freaking out...."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     There's a soft knock on the door of Shannon's dorm room and, after a second, the knob turns and the door cracks, a familiar brown-haired head calls out before peeking around the corner. "Shannon? You decent? Can I come in? I've got cocoa." Gwendolyn waits for a count of five or so to see if the promise of company and chocolate is enough to gain her entry into the winged mutant's inner sanctuary.

Nightingale has posed:
     "I'm decent, just... molting," the young winged mutant calls out, looking a little bit disgusted with herself. "Come on in!" When Gwen opens the door, she might see the less-than-put-together Shannon on her bed, trying to straighten out her wings and gather up the feathers that have fallen out. "Cocoa? You sure you're not the angel here?"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     The door opens and standing there in peppermint-striped pajama bottoms with slipper-socks and a cute white tank top with lace accents is Gwendolyn. With a tray. On that tray is what she promised - two oversized mugs filled nearly to the brim with hot chocolate, a pitcher which probably contained more hot chocolate, two hershey bars, /toasted marshmallows,/ and a can of whipped cream. It seems the girl knows her hot chocolate.

     Stepping into the room, she uses one foot to push the door closed with a thump, hiding Shannon's shame from the rest of the room. A girl not having her face on is one thing, but having her feathers out of place? Shocking. "I'm no angel - I just know that when I'm uncomfortable, having someone to talk to - and cocoa - is a lifesaver." Gwendolyn says with a smile, walking carefully over and setting the tray down on the bedside table. "Also...one of my host families had a parrot that I helped with molting so...I know a couple of things." She lifts her hands, wiggling her fingers. "Need some help?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon scoots over towards the head of the bed--naturally a bit closer to the cocoa-and smiles a little bit sheepishly. "There's just no help for it in the fall and the spring," she explains. "Or when I'm stressed. I assure you, though, this time it's the season." Indeed, her wings have often proven to be a reliable barometer of the young healer's emotional and mental state, to those who know her best.

Even though Gwendolyn was the one who brought the cocoa, Shannon makes certain that she is also the first to have a chance at the sweet cup of comfort. "Gawd yes, and thank you! Unless one has feathered wings, they know not the trials and embarrassment of molting! I'm just -really- super-glad it's never happened in front of the Captain. Now /that/ would be embarrassing!" Her face goes very red and she giggles a little bit. "That'd be almost worse than toilet paper on the shoe!"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     Being careful not to spill, Gwendolyn starts doctoring up Shannon's cocoa, with a swirl of whipped cream, a little bit of chocolate shavings thanks to a rasp borrowed from the kitchen, and a marshmallow dropped right in the middle of it all, like a man in a life preserver on a foamy sea. "I just have to moisturize. My wings kind of take care of themselves. They're a little scaly sometimes, but a good scrub in the shower takes care of any loose ones and a long brush for the ones in the middle of my back that're hard to reach."

     She passes over the cup of cocoa and looks to where Shannon sits, thinking. "Where do you want me to sit and start? All I'm planning on doing is working out the feathers that're loose and making you a little less flustered-looking." The little wastebasket by the door is snagged and brought over to contain feathers because there's no reason to toss them on the floor. "It'll probably feel good, even."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon accepts the cup with a smile of gratitude, cupping it between her hands and letting the warmth seep into her skin. She closes her eyes, raising the mug to her nose and inhaling the darkly sweet aroma of the cocoa, with slightly smoky, caramel-like notes from the toasted marshmallows. "A long brush," she muses. "That might be something to consider. Won't always be so lucky to have this." There is a hint of reserve in her voice, a twinge of remembered anguish that, while not mirrored in her expression, does cause her wings to droop very slightly. "Here, let me turn around so I'm facing the head of the bed, or would it be easier if I sat on the edge on one side, and you worked your magic from the other side?"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     This is a good mug of cocoa. Like, really good. Gwen's got it down. Two parts whole milk, one part heavy cream, one part condensed milk, a couple of different cocoa powders - both dark and light - and a good amount of vanilla sugar to help balance out the bitterness. It holds the heat and is rich enough so that one cup is probably plenty, but two is luxuriousness squared. "I don't know how well a brush would work for you...mine is just a heavy back brush, but it might hurt your feathers." She taps her lip with a fingertip in thought for a few seconds.

     "Why don't you scoot forward, and then I can sit behind you. That way you can have your cocoa and I can work on the parts you can't reach. If you sit and cross your legs, you'll stay balanced and I'll have room to work." And she'll be able to nip at her cocoa, now and again, too, which is a bonus. The sound of anguish in Shannon's voice causes Gwendolyn to sigh a little, a gentle hand moving to rest on her bare shoulder, giving her a squeeze. "Lots of people watch out for what's ahead of them and don't take the time to enjoy what they have now. We should care about what's coming, yes, but we should also enjoy what we have and get it to last as long as we can. I've been at the bottom and it's all up from here." Gwen smiles and motions for Shannon to scoot forward, getting on the bed behind her once she's moved and carefully, very, very carefully, running her fingertips through the feathers on her wings. Just getting a feel for it.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon nods, scooting forward to leave Gwendolyn room to do her thing. She spreads her wings to about half their span as a starting point, their full span being likely difficult to reach. "In my case... it's difficult for me to trust. My story is not as dramatic or violent as some, especially yours, but it was enough." For the moment, she leaves the matter there, sipping the hot cocoa and letting the sweet concoction lift her spirits.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     Crossing her legs, Gwen gets to work. Her fingers move gently through Shannon's feathers, scritching lightly, and she's got well-manicured fingernails, so it's not entirely unlike fingertips scratching along a person's scalp, the sensation that she's putting out. "It's not a competition. We're all in the same race, but the finish line is different for everyone. Trusting is...hard...sometimes. Really hard. You have to keep trying, though, otherwise you'll be lonely, and that's no fun for anyone."

     Turning the lights down low, Gwen pulls her goggles off so she can see better, setting them on the bedside table, starting where wings meet Shannon's back, working from the bottom. Little tugs pull free loose feathers to be tossed into the can next to the bed, some fluttering and landing true, others missing to be cleared up later. Right now this is girl-girl bonding time and Gwen is being super careful not to hurt Shannon, even using the serrations on her arms to carefully comb through the mass, catching a few stray feathers.

     It actually feels very nice.

Nightingale has posed:
     "I know it's not a competition," Shannon muses, her voice softening as the relaxing ministrations from an expert in the fine art of dealing with molting creatures works their magic. Her wings begin to relax, not so much spreading out as unfurling gently like a sunflower turns its face towards the sun. "But others have been through so much worse, their needs come first. I'll be okay."

     Each feather tugged free is less irritation to Shannon's wings, and if she were a cat, well, she might very well be purring. As she sips on the cocoa, a light sound akin to laughter come from her, the mug lowered to reveal a marshmallow moustache. "I like to think my childhood best friend would have been doing something like this," she muses. "But when my change happened... she and everyone else but my family turned their backs on me."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     "I know that, and you know that." Gwendolyn's voice is soft, the girl concentrating on things as to not cause discomfort or pain. "Others having it worse doesn't invalidate your suffering. I mean..." She leans over to speak so she's not blocked by a wing, kind of at the back of Shannon's head, near her ear. "Your ability has you taking the suffering of people on yourself. Sure, you heal faster, but you still carry that burden, and that memory. It's a sacrifice not everyone would, or even could make." She's quiet for a second. "If you ever need to talk. To vent. To anything. You find me, okay? I'll make time, even if I don't have any."

     The mention of a childhood best friend being in this positon...that's something Gwen is far, far too familiar with, and a story that's far too common. "Fear makes people do a lot of stupid things. Even with wings as beautiful as yours. The time when she was your friend, she still affected your life, and when she stopped being your friend for a silly reason like these..." Gwen's hands brush over Shannon's wings to underline the statement. "It's her great loss. The adventures you'll have, she'll never know. She'll be trapped in the cavern of her ignorance for the rest of her life while you see the light in the sky."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon shakes her head slowly, lowering the cup of cocoa for a moment. "No, the wings came in after the fact. The day I changed, she was the one that needed healing." Closing her eyes, she takes in a breath gone slightly ragged as she fights to tamp down the emotions that begin welling up inside of her. Emotions that came to the surface far too often for her liking these days. "We were at summer camp, both of us were fourteen. It was a really gorgeous afternoon, the kind people write poems and stories about. Our unit counselor had us both tending the fire--that was always done in at least pairs, with an adult nearby just in case. We were just talking and laughing, making plans for our lives, and she was tending a pot boiling over the fire."

She pauses before going on, taking a moment to have a sip of the cocoa. "The pot started boiling over. She went for a potholder to grab it out of the flames but lost her grip on the handle. The pot spilled all down her front and gave her some pretty nasty burns. First thing I did was go to make a wet compress to put on her. I accidentally touched the burn... and it happened. One minute she was screaming in pain, the next, it was me crying, and everyone looking at me like a freak. I was sent home, and never heard from her again."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
The story is one that probably will be told a thousand times, but today, it's being told to Gwendolyn. To watch your best friend burned, horribly, and then to take on the pain yourself, only to be excorcised and shunned because of it? That's the worst possible thing that she can think of. Finally, she does something that she really wasn't expecting to do.

"Shhh, it's okay." Gwendolyn's arms come around to hug Shannon from behind, tight, one hand moving up to brush her hair. "Just me here, remember? It's okay."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon has to lower her cup to the bedside table or risk losing the cocoa all over her lap and possibly get burned herself, as if recreating that day in reverse. Her wings droop, badly, dragging on the bed and the tips even brushing the ground. The hug completely undoes her, tears streaming down her face and her shoulders shaking as she just cries, sobbing her misery as she rarely would ever do.

"For days... weeks... I'd try to call her, tell her I was still the same friend she'd had since kindergarten. But it didn't matter. I learned the hard way that no matter how much you think you know someone, no matter how much you care about them or they say they care about you, sooner or later, they'll turn their backs on you. The only things that got me through the next couple years were my family, and knowing that the Captain went through being just as alone, when he woke up from the ice... but he made it. So... I've made it, somehow. I think."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Through it all, Gwendolyn hangs on tight. She doesn't say anything, because, really, there's nothing more to be said. It's horrible the way that Shannon's friend treated her. It's horrible that the mask slipped and the person behind showed their true colors, but saying that, saying that truth, isn't something that really needs to be said. It's known. Shannon and Gwendolyn both experienced it, but while it was ripped from Shannon, Gwendolyn never really had those familial ties to begin with, thanks to coming from an overcrowded system.

The thing is, though? The belief that Shannon expresses? Not true. She shakes her head and her voice is quiet, but holds weight to it. Experience coming out.

"Growing up, in the system, for the longest time, you could only count on yourself. Grab what you could because you didn't know if you would be able to get it later. Keep what you had safe. Don't share because you'll get taken advantage of. The strong survive." She goes quiet for a second, leaning over to grab a tissue from the box by the bed, offering it to Shannon before pulling the other girl into a hug, not letting go. "Survival isn't everything, though. Pain is a pesky part of being human. I mean, you know that, right?" She pauses for a second, adjusting herself, before continuing. "I wish we could go without it in our lives, because it's a sudden hurt taht can't be escaped. But I've learned that because of pain, I can feel beauty. I can feel tenderness. I can feel the freedom of losing the pain. Of healing. When your friend...and I use that term loosely...when she cast you aside, that was like a stab to the heart. I know it was. But the healing...getting over it...that's like spreading your wings and flying through the air, the wind at your face. To new adventures. To new friends." She smiles. "Like me."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, just leaning into the hug, and is very glad for the fact that she doesn't bother wearing makeup. As it is, her eyes are liable to be a bit puffy, and she might perhaps need a new box of tissues after all is said and done. "Pain sucks," she murmurs in agreement. Is that a fog-horn sounding, or is that a teenage girl blowing their nose? "Then I get here, and a few times, it seemed like I had a real chance at a little bit of that sweetness. It seemed like Mason liked me, but then he vanished for weeks on end with no word. Comes back every so often, but is gone again just as quickly. I was crushing on Cannonball pretty badly, and finally got up the guts to tell him. He saw me like a little sister, so I wound up with an adopted clan from it. But it still hurts, remembering. Even if it feels good to have more family from it. And Bean? It seemed to be going well, and he even seemed to like me back. But well... I wasn't his cup of tea quite in -that- sense. But I still wound up with one helluva good friend from it. I'm getting a little tired of the pain. Wish there was a bit more beauty to balance it out. But... I'm scared of getting hurt again."

She falls silent, listening to Gwen tell a bit of her story as well. Hearing the suffering the other girl had gone through, she reaches for the tissues and offers the box back to her. "You did more than survive. You can and are thriving here."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"I...I've kind of seen something like this before, Shannon." Gwendolyn passes another set of tissues over for nose-blowing purposes. A good cry often requires several of them at least. "It's hard to come from having something, then having it taken away, and then suddenly discovering a place with all these possibilities branching out. And you want that sweetness. You crave it. And...well...I've just seen it turn out badly, going forth like that." She has stories of families that found a child and then, for some inexplicable reason, returned them, like a shirt that didn't fit right, despite the ties that were made. "I'm not saying you can't find love, Shannon. I'm not saying that at all. I'm not saying to stop trying, either, because everyone deserves love, no matter who they are. What I'm saying is to keep trying if you find someone you're interested in, and to not let the setbacks - those stabs to the heart - hurt you too badly. The worst thing that can happen is rejection, so just go for it. At least you'll know." Gwendolyn pets Shannon's hair lightly, affectionately, even. "And I'll be here, rooting you on."

Nightingale has posed:
     Brief flashes of that time linger in the feathers Gwendolyn is combing from Shannon's wings, the memory fresh on the girl's mind and so, imprinted on that which is and was of her. A brief scream of pain, water hissing on a campfire as a pot is spilled. A girl that could almost be Shannon's twin, but for the slightly more stocky build and darker blonde hair, and rounder face, her mouth opening in horror and disbelief as the wet compress is applied, the wound touched, and the burn absorbed. The first shock of pain and disbelief from Shannon herself, as she realizes she is no longer like everyone else, perhaps never had been, and had entered a world perhaps nobody could ever really share--not even her own family. The censure from her former friends as she is sent home. The long nights alone, wondering if there would ever be hope again. The calls made in vain, trying to keep a friendship alive that had gone cold the moment things changed. Each heartbreak, each step along the journey of the past couple years, is imprinted in those feathers.

     Slowly, as she is held, and her hair is stroked like a sister might do, the tears begin to slow and finally stop, even if the sniffling continues. The mood in the room is much more subdued, as the winged girl reaches for the mug of cocoa and leans back into the hug, her expression... lost. The healer who would step up and risk her own life to ensure another might live, just seemed so... small.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
A sniffle from behind Shannon's shoulder, and she feels Gwendolyn leaning over to get her own tissue, dabbing away the tears that have come. The grooming of Shannon's wings, halfway done, has kind of been abandoned in the face of all that has been said, and Gwendolyn settles back against the headboard, a pillow behind her back, her arms around her friend Shannon, holding her in a hug that seemingly won't let go.
"I'm...I'm sorry." Gwen whispers, her eyes closing. It's important to be honest - especially to those she wants to keep as a friend. "I wasn't careful with my ability and I saw flashes...what happened...to you. From your feathers. Almost felt it, almost as vividly."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Oh no... I'm sorry..." Mortified, Shannon just holds very still, trying to school her thoughts, to put the demons back inside their little bottle and seal it away. "It's alright, I'm not mad at you. Just sorry you saw any of it at all. It's a stupid thing... but nothing I'd wish on anyone." She starts humming lightly, making soft shushing sounds and doing the best she can to soothe Gwendolyn's upset now. What had she done?!

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"No, no...I needed you to know I saw. It's...something that happens sometimes, if I'm not careful. It's why I wear the gloves most of the time, after all." Gwendolyn doesn't let Shannon go, still hugging her despite all that happened.

"It's not stupid." Gwendolyn finally says, straightening a little behind the other girl. "Your feelings are valid because you feel them, Shannon. They're not wrong. They make you, you, and you don't need to hide them. There's nothing to be ashamed of. You didn't do anything wrong."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon cracks a little bit of a smile. "Like the embarrassing baby pictures on my phone the first day Andrea and I met you? Didn't figure my feathers would trigger something like that." Reaching for both mugs, she sips from her own and offers Gwendolyn's back to her. Yes, cocoa cures all, or at least helps put a bandage on the wound so it can hopefully begin to heal clean. "Thank you..."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"Kind of like that, yeah. More emotional things tend to pick up easier. The baby pictures were just me kind of showing off so y'all would know what I could do." The mug is passed over, Gwendolyn taking a sip, a little moustache of foam on her upper lip that's licked away with the flick of a tongue, and she smiles. "Hey, you're welcome. It's what friends are for, after all. Now." She shifts in her seat again, leaning back and gathering Shannon's wings. "Let's get you looking pretty."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon rolls her eyes a little bit. "That's going to take a miracle. I'm not pretty. But having wings that don't look like a Sentinel chewed them up and spit them out would be great." She takes a healthy swig of her cocoa, and winds up with a large foam moustache for her trouble--looking very much like a little kid. "Wish I was half as good at being there for people as you are. You... seriously... rock."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn leans around and, in the low light of the bedroom, you really see her eyes, probably for the first time, since she has her goggles off. Jewel-like and faceted, it's almost like she has sapphire lenses over her eyes. She blinks, though, so at least she's not minus eyelids, but still, it's a little interesting to see. "I've found that it's works pretty well to choose your family. So Pidgeotto, I choose /you/!" And she boops Shannon on the nose with two fingers, playfully. Like she's claiming a pokemon. The crack about sentinels and not being pretty? That's waved off as her cup is put back on the table, the cocoa half-finished. "You hush. You're like a model. And your wings?" Those are ruffled. "Gorgeous."

     With a contented smile, Gwendolyn starts work on Shannon's wings again, moving a little faster, now that the feathers are getting bigger. If she stood, it would look like she was wearing a cape with slightly frayed bits on the lower half. The upper part? Looking nice and clean. "You'll get there. You've got the bedside manner already locked down, and the healing power. You gave me a push to get me off the ground. It's the least I can do to give you one, too."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon actually well and truly smiles now. "It was really wonderful, to see you fly. God, if only you could have seen the look on your face when you were just in the air there for a few seconds. You'd swear someone took the winning Powerball ticket, wrapped it up in the Super Bowl, the World Series, and the Radio City Music Hall Christmas spectacular all in one, and handed it to you with a big gold bow on top, instead of showing you how to use those jewels you call wings. And speaking of jewels, have you ever really just looked at your eyes, without the goggles? I mean, really looked?" Hush? Yeah, right. As if.

The slightly younger girl ruffles her wings a little, finding them a lot less itchy and uncomfortable, letting out a sigh of relief. Well, almost a sigh of relief. "Pidgeotto!" in mimicry of the Pokemon's cry. Nerd creds, anyone?

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwen can't help but grin, just a little. "Yeah, flying was...yeah, awesome. I can't really say much more than that because I don't have the words. I've been practicing in the gym, just getting off the ground, and Cannonball has given me some back workouts - and stamina workouts - so I can actually do the flying thing." She giggles. "We'll have the Xavier's Flight School soon enough. Once the weather turns nicer, that is." First warm day in the spring? It'll be like a swarm of bees around the place!

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Shannon, for recognizing my reference." Having people she can talk about with on nerdy things? That's a good thing!

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, and smiles even a little bit more. "Yeah, he did the same thing for me. Pretty well insisted on strength training just so I wouldn't hurt myself in agility maneuvers. Logan insisted on the same, though that was as much towards going for hand-to-hand as anything else. Ooof... lemme tell ya, when he's blocking a punch from you, you're gonna know it!" She shakes her right hand, hissing softly in remembrance and... chuckling a little bit. "I'd listen to Cannonball. He's got a good head on his shoulders."

Shannon eyerolls and laughs a little bit more. "You sure that's Gryffindor? Did the sorting hat get it right? Yeah, maybe... okay, let's face it, I make red and gold look /good/."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn nudges Shannon's lower back as she gets up, moving around to sit in front of the winged mutant girl. At this point the wings are to the point where both of them can work on one, or split the work and work on two. Gwen, in the back, got all the places Shannon couldn't reach and, to be frank, she's /really/ good with her fingers.
     "So, now that I've got you face to face..." She pulls one of Shannon's wings, carefully, in reach, starting to work on the larger guide feathers. "Christmas is coming up, and we were going to talk about doing a celebration for the X-folks, right?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly, canting her head to one side, and beginning work on her left wing, straightening out the guide feathers. It doesn't look as if her wings are to the point that flight would be curtailed, not yet. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I was just talking about that with my folks a few days ago, told them I'd be staying here. There's a lot of kids who came from really bad situations, worse than mine, who don't have friends or family, or support other than here. They deserve that bit of happiness, too."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn's hands work carefully, but quickly. One long feather is teased out and dropped in the can by the bed, her thumb working the spot where it came out to make sure there's no discomfort from the feather coming out. "I imagine this kind of feels like a sunburn coming off." she says off-handedly, looking up to Shannon with a smile, shifting back to planning conversation after a second of quiet. "We'd need to figure out how many people would be here. I mean, so far it'd be you and I, and while I can eat a /lot/, a fifteen pound turkey for the pair of us might be too much, y'know?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods a little bit, thinking for a moment. "It itches sometimes when I'm molting. Which, if I'm stress molting, doesn't help my mood any. But right now? The feathers coming out don't hurt. They were ready to come out anyways. It's just nature, like with birds."

The talk of Christmas planning does a great deal to lift her spirits, a little bit of a twinkle coming to her eyes. "I'd say it's a pretty safe bet Bean's going to be here, but we can check. Not sure if Andrea has plans, or if Jay will be heading back to Kentucky for the holiday, or Cannonball. Think there might have been talk about that on Cannonball's part, but we can confirm with him. Maybe check with Kitty and see if she either knows who's staying, or knows who to ask?"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"Well, that's good. For stress, I'd say take a long, hot bath, a long hot shower, take a nap, or just do something you find relaxing. I mean, you're only a mutant with healing powers, how stressful could /that/ be?" And, to Gwen's credit, she manages to keep a straight face for a good five seconds before bursting into giggles over the absurdity of that statement. Whatever stresses Shannon has, she has. There's no gatekeeping stress in this house.

Gwendolyn nods. "We'll just need to ask around. Get a list. Plan a menu fit for the folks that're there. Maybe make sure there's stuff in case there are religious implications, like muslim or jewish." She chuckles. "While I do understand, not being able to have bacon, or rillons even, is just...how? I /love/ bacon."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon gives Gwen a completely blank look. "What are rillons?" Oh. My. God. Did she just even say that?! Her grin is a little bit sheepish, and she shrugs lightly.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"Oh my god...." Gwendolyn's hands stop, the girl looking up, amazed. "Something you haven't tried, that's cajun." She grins and bounces. "It's the best! It's like....I don't know...the best. Like candy smoked bacon with a sticky, sweet sauce. You take a whole pork belly, take off the skin, cube it, make a carmel-type sauce with sugar and red wine, then bake it to render out the fat and get these little crispy nuggets of absolute /joy./"

Nightingale has posed:
     "It doesn't involve pecans, does it? Because those will make me pretty sick. But... it sounds soooo good! Are they hard to make? Would they even let us make rillons, if we're not even supposed to be anywhere near red wine yet?" Shannon has to dab at the corners of her mouth, trying to be somewhat ladylike--and failing. "Gawd, I hope so...."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"It does not. The thing about Cajun cooking is that a lot of the food we do is with stuff we have down there. Louisiana? No pecan trees 'cept for up north so you're good." If she does a pecan pie or sweet potato casserole? Shannon might be out of luck but, for that dish? No worries. "The wine is just there for flavor and cooking. All the stuff they don't want us to get into evaporates and just leaves all the good-tasting stuff."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Then that settles it. We get the fixings for rillons and try these little nuggets of heaven." Shannon nods firmly to seal the deal, and reaches for her mug. But when she tilts it back, all she winds up with is foam on her upper lip--and no chocolate. A few oaths in various languages escape her, but then she just rolls her eyes. "Okay, so. Track down Kitty, ask her who's staying for Christmas. Talk to Mr. Rasputin, see what's being done about decorations, since the last I heard him talking, he was going to have his art classes handle that--and I've got a feeling it might not be too hard to talk him into letting us help out and plan."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn is in position to reach over for the insulated pitcher with serving #3 and #4 of hot chocolate, grins, and re-fills Shannon's mug with a steady hand, adding a squirt of whipped cream from the can and then sitting back to go back to working on the other girl's right wing, sipping at her cocoa from time to time. Nonchalant, like it's something that happens every day. Which, to be fair, it might, if she and Shannon stay close. "That settles that, then. We've got a plan of attack. I've still got to have a sit down with Miss Kitty, so I'll take her, if you can go find Mr. Rasputin and talk to him?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, and sips her cocoa with a little sigh. "That sounds good to me. He seemed really nice," she remarks, and her eyebrows quirk, eyes twinkling with mirth. "And remarkably tolerant. I imagine one would have to be, with Deadpool hanging off of your arm." That has her giggling, softly at first, but then it turns into full-on belly laughter. "Oh gawd, I had to work so hard at not laughing my wing feathers off at him right then and there!"

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Gwendolyn blinks. "Who's Deadpool? A teacher of some kind I've not met yet?" It's not a name she's heard, but with the people around, chances are pretty good that he might have been missed.

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Shannon shakes her head, and chuckles lightly. "He... just shows up sometimes. Name's Wade. Most times he'll have a full image inducer on, so he could look like anyone or anything. But there is definitely no mistaking him. He's... well, to sum it up in one word, madcap. Could make a lot of sense one minute, could be completely off the wall the next. Supposed to be a merc, by his own admission, but I've never heard of him doing anything like that here. And yes, he goes for my mac 'n cheese, too. But seriously... you will /definitely/ know if you've run into him." She shrugs a little, and smiles. "Definitely an acquired taste. Some people can't stand him, some are kind of neutral. I've managed to get him to sit down and just talk a couple times, and despite what a nutter he is sometimes, despite his choice of what he does for a living, some part of him in there isn't all that bad. And I'll probably get called crazy for it."

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"I think someone would have to be /dead/ to not go for your Mac 'n Cheese." Gwendolyn finishes with her wing, smoothing the last of the feathers down just so and sitting back, her mug resting on her belly where her tank top went up a little. She smiles, looking at Shannon being all angel-like. "Go ahead." She gestures. "Spread 'em. Let's see if we missed anything."

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Shannon turns slightly to keep her wings from smacking Gwendolyn as she spreads them out to their full span. To say the least, that span is quite impressive. While yes, there are spots where feathers are clearly missing, her wings no longer look quite so raggedy, and definitely more put together. "They itch a lot less... thank you!"

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Gwendolyn had a puppy, growing up, that would get so excited that he'd smack her with his whip-like tail when he spun around to chase something so, when Shannon spreads her wings, Gwen is already dodging a little, in case she wasn't careful. "Give it a week or so, keep your skin moisturized, eat some cucumber. The parrot /loved/ cucumber, and it made the feathers come in that much quicker so..." She shrugs. "Might work just as well with you, too." Gwendolyn grins. "You're welcome, Shannon."

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Shannon wrinkles her nose. "Oh no... the one veggie I -hate-! Will pickles work or does it have to be fresh cucumber? The fresh stuff just sits on my stomach wrong." She tucks her wings in again, keeping them loosely folded behind her with a little smile, sipping the hot cocoa. "Oh! That reminds me, we'll have to check for food allergies as well! Don't want anyone getting sick at the supper table!"

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"Oh! Well...um..." Gwendolyn thinks for a second. "The thing you need for good feathers, at least according to the books, was Vitamin A and omega fatty acids, like from fish. So....Sweet potato fries? Sushi? We can get that for you pretty easily."

The food allergy stuff gets a nod. "Kind of what I was going for with the whole dietary restriction thing. I was thinking religious, but when you mentioned pecans, that might mean someone can't do gluten, or peanuts, or...I don't know...milk. Or something."

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Shannon perks up. "Sweet potato fries and salmon! That'd be perfect! I love salmon, and it loves me right back!" Yay! No cucumbers! She looks about ready to break out into a happydance at that prospect.

In regards to food allergies, she nods quickly, taking another sip of the cocoa. "Exactly, but some dishes are holiday traditions. So we could maybe serve out buffet-style, with little placards marking each serving tray with what common allergens are in it, and let people choose for themselves according to dietary needs?"

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Gwendolyn smiles and reaches up for Shannon's hands, helping her sit back down on the bed. "I've got a version of sweet potato fries I do that I picked up from a place in Natchitoches. Call them Dirty Sweet Fries. Basically thin-cut sweet potato fries, fried crisp, with salt, fine grown black pepper, and sugar. just a little. You'll eat them until they're gone and ask for seconds.

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Shannon grins wide, sitting back down on the bed. "I love sweet potatoes anyways, they're one of my favorites. Ooooo... maybe this is something we could show Doug how to make? He's always talking about eating salmon and rice for his diet, maybe this would give him some variety?"

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"Totally." Gwendolyn agrees with a grin. "It's easy to make, can be fried or baked or whatever, and takes on the taste of watever you put with it. Lemon pepper, brown sugar, spicy cajun seasoning..." She's ticking off flavors you can do with salmon, grinning at Shannon while she does, finishing her cocoa so the mug on her bare belly doesn't fly off on to the bed. "How about this. I've got dinner tonight. I'll cook for you and me, and another serving for Doug if one of us can find him. Salmon and sweet potatoes."

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Shannon nods and grins. "Totally. If I can't find him to ask if that's okay on his diet, maybe Cannonball might know. And if he can't make it, well... if he snoozes, he loses!" Pleased with the prospect of a good meal and good company, she ruffles her wings behind her. "So. Salmon, sweet potato fries and... think they've got the stuff for those rillons you were telling me about?"

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Gwendolyn shrugs and giggles. "Don't know. We'll have to do some scavenging to see if anyone has anything anywhere. With a kitchen like that, I find it hard to believe there's not a bottle of wine /somewhere/ to be had. We might have to do a little digging...pull in a favor or two...get a pork belly from the butcher before it closes..." She bounces on the bed. "Totally doable!"

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Shannon giggles, bouncing up from the bed, much energized by the mission ahead. "Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to get the fixings together for some rillons! I'll nose around and see who I can get to let us have a little red wine for the recipe. This message will self-destruct in five seconds."

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Gwendolyn pulls Shannon's pillow up to block the explosion, tossing it at the winged girl with a laugh, hitting her about mid-chest with the pillow, rolling back and pulling the blanket up like a shield.

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Shannon giggles, making an exaggerated 'oof!' sound, letting the pillow knock her back. The double wedding ring quilt makes a fine shield for Gwendolyn--but the rings also make fine targets, at which she lobs the pillow! "Oh, it's on now!" she exclaims, squealing with laughter.