10083/Pizzacasso (not a violin technique)

Pizzacasso (not a violin technique)
Date of Scene:	18 November 2019
Location:	Kitchen - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Cooking is therapeutic. Introducing the Xavieritano, the new delicacy of Westchester.
Cast of Characters:	Samuel Morgan, Siryn, Nightingale, Cannonball

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Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Sunday afternoon, near enough evening, and the dinner crowd had come and gone. Like a pack of voracious wolves, they devoured the food so carefully prepared for them, and then scurried off to relax, to study or to sleep as per age and temperament. It was always a moment of well-natured chaos, followed by a bustle of activity in the kitchen as a small hillock of dishes and assorted crockery needed to be prepared for the next feedi - meal. All that activity has now past, and the kitchen has returned to its tranquil state, where those more inclined to cook for themselves or those who can't stand the crowd in the dining hall may congregate in peace.

    Among such people is Sam, known to his friends as Bean and Techno to his team. Today, it seems, he's busy trying to recreate a recipe that he found somewhere, something supposedly easy to master and common to even the most ham-fisted student. Pizza... he's attempting pizza. Judging by the state of the dough (slightly oval), the toppings (irregularly sized) and the sauce (congealed), it's not going very well.

    Next to him, sitting on a stool and watching the proceedings with an air of amused detachment is a young German Shepherd, whose collar proclaims the beast to be 'Bear'.

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy wasn't overly fond of crowds... She just didn't fit in with the younger students, and outside of her classes she'd found herself increasingly detached from her old teammates who had better histories than her own. She'd resorted to just holing up in her room lately. A bad habit, she knew, and one that often led to relapsing into bad habits. With that in mind and a mood to change she ventures out now to the kitchen. At least getting some real food ought to help her mood some.

The redheaded art history teacher enters only to pause, and cock her head to the side watching Samuel attempting his cooking. "You might be overthinking it a tad," she reasons with a chuckle as she steps further in. Without really thinking of it her steps veer her toward Bear who she reaches out to scruff between the ears if he lets her. Yeah she was one of those people at a party that always greeted the animals first.

"You're more adventurous than me at least. I was just thinking of tomato soup."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    The mere moment someone approaches the kitchen, that Shepherd is looking in the direction of the door, ears pricked up and tongue lolling. It is a remarkably social animal, and one that is more than happy to be fussed over, head tossing and pushing into the hand that scratches between his ears. At the same time, though, Bear is keeping an eye on his human, not in the least because he keeps getting fed bits of sausage. There's probably a few food safety guidelines being violated here...

    "Overthinking is sort of my leitmotif." Bean half sighs and looks at the things that art hath wrought. A pizza it's not. More of a... avant garde pancake with suspicious sauce and meat toppings with extra meat and bits of cheese on the side. "But it's this or cookies. That's all I know how to make. I think there's some mac 'n cheese left in the fridge." In fact, almost guaranteed. He never had his share after the magic ritual in the back yard. "Haven't seen you in a while, Miss Cassidy."

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy nods solemnly at that with a little look of guilt. "I don't do well round this time of year. I tend to hole up and... It's not good for me, really. I know. Just a bad habit. I've a few of them." Bear gets a good loving on, and a good solid ruffle before she steps away to head for the sink to wash her hands. "Eh, that's the great thing about pizza. There's so many variations, it doesn't have to look like the same thing all the time. We can try again if you want," she offers even as she begins to wrack her mind for ideas of how to do it that doesn't involve French bread. The fridge is a good place to peek into for ideas at least, so she does just that.

"So how've you been doing then?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    One moment the oven isn't on, the next moment it is, and preheating to a temperature Bean has read is perfect for pizza. All without taking his hands away from the prep area. The joys of technopathy. "It does get dark very soon, yes." As for holing up, indulging in bad habits and not liking the time of year? Well, it's a good thing he has Bear, or the months would suck even more than they do already.

    "All good pizza is created by accident. So, who's to say this won't be the next... the next..." Ehm. Lack of cultural references is starting to show, best go another tack. "... Xavier's delight?" Right. Saved that.

    "I've been okay. Thanks to Bear, mostly, he's been a lifesaver." Twice literally.

Siryn has posed:
"Exactly," Terri responds from somewhere of the general vicinity of the fridge. She's rummaging around a bit, spotting a few items of interest, and pulls out a can of soda. She'll ignore the six pack in there for one of the older teammates. "Food is always invented by testing and trying out. The dough looks good, the toppings are just..." A shrug is offered. "Toppings."

Mention of Bear helping out earns the good boy another thoughtful look. "Hm. Maybe I should get a pet."

Nightingale has posed:
     Where there are dough and toppings, there is pizza. Where there is pizza, there is a ravenous winged healer. Shannon all but barrels into the kitchen, her stomach growling despite the two massive 'Dagwood' sandwiches earlier that afternoon. It was maddening. There was one primal thought on her mind, and heaven help anyone who gets in her way--food. This is a woman on a mission, folks!

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    More dough is spread out on a clean board, and not so much rolled as bludgeoned into submission. That might account for the somewhat lopsided appearance, as this base too is starting to resemble an irregular oblong. Sauce, toppings, with three bits of sausage for Bear, and Bean seems about ready to call this one good when he remembers the cheese and garlic powder. There must be garlic on pizza. A guilty look is given towards the Shepherd, a slightly uncomfortable pause, and then the teenager clarifies what might have caused that sudden chill. "... he's not a pet. He's ehmm... he's my service dog." Ah...

    But whatever chill might persist is thawed out when Shannon arrives. "Oh, hey there. I'm just making pizza if... yeah, I'll just make another." Yup. He knows that look.

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy doesn't seem phased at all by that news from Samuel as she steps over to look at his bludgeoning of the pizza with a wince. "Well for me it would be a pet. Ach, bit gentler lad," she suggests only to take a sip of her soda. Only to nearly choke when she sees the winged mutant come in with a ravenous expression as if she were about to murder a burger. "Right. Guess it is time for food. Sit down and I'll try to whip up something while his pizza cooks," she offers Shannon as she turns to flip open a cupboard or two searching for something quick. Something not hard. Something... "Spaghetti O's? What in the world is that?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon grins a little bit sheepishly at Bean and Theresa, flopping down on the nearest stool by the counter. As she flops down, not one single feather flies. Perhaps molting season is over? There is that tell-tale rumbling in her general vicinity once again, and she blushes a bit. "Double healing a couple nights ago, appetite's been in overdrive." A quick glance is given to Theresa, the younger mutant tilting her head thoughtfully. "Theresa, right? I've only seen you a couple times. Daniel's memorial... the night I had to pull that sword out of Logan... nice to finally see you under more normal circumstances."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Bear looks disapprovingly at the application of brute force and turns his eyes onto Bean, head tilted. Was that really necessary? Was the white fluffy stuff bad? The look is returned, while Bean surreptitiously makes up a third base, slowly pressing with the rolling pin and uses it as intended. Physics in action... How many slices could you make out of a pizza with a twenty inch radius? How is this monster going to fit in the oven? Regardless, sauce and toppings are applied (minus the share for Bear). Cheese to taste... bit more cheese.. eh, no such thing as too much cheese, right?

    "That was one crazy evening. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy my newest creation. Xavieritano."

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy plucks the can of Spaghetti O's out of the cupboard to stare at it reading the ingredients only to shudder and place it back. "And you Yanks think we eat weird things," she mumbles beneath her breath. Turning around again she raises her soda can toward Shannon with a nod and a grin. "Terri's fine if you want. Yeah, I've been around just not fond of this time of year. You think I would be, with all the rain and stuff, but the short days get to me. I'm working on it," she explains with a little shrug.

"We'll give it a shot, Sam."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Xavieritano sounds perfect, Bean. What's on it?" Shannon grins at her bestie, shifting about on her stool as if she were a little kid waiting for the first chocolate chip cookies to come out of the oven. One is left with the feeling that she is less a winged teenager, and more a great white shark barely held back from attacking a school of fish, awaiting only their emergence from their hiding spot.

     Theresa is favored with a nod, and a sympathetic smile. "I feel ya there. Freezing rain is nasty. Or, as I call it, 'Falling Yuck'. Put the two words together, and don't say it or you'll get a 'Sprache!' from Kurt, or even from Bean here."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Not a Yank." Bean says in his own defense, if such a thing may apply. He eats like one, these days at least, and as such is most assuredly guilty by association. All three pizzas, each of wildly varying diameters, constitution and just general ingredients, are loaded up into the oven and the door closed, the timer setting itself.

    "I try to catch the sunrise every morning on the roof tower. Gets a bit cold, but the view is worth it. Plus, this time of year, you don't even need to get up early to catch it." Silver lining. He looks to both Cassidy and Shannon. "You can join me up there tomorrow if you want."

    As for the pizza recipe? Well... "Mostly just cheese and meat with cheese and garlic, and cheese and tomato sauce, and cheese. And meat."

Siryn has posed:
"Methinks he likes cheese," Terri offers with a wry grin at the listing of ingredients. "Though that's never a bad topping at all I say. You're not keeping them in too long though are ya?" A glance is cast to the oven. How long had that first one been in? Surely he was keeping track, she supposes. "Sunrise? ... Maybe. I might. That might not hurt," she has to admit grudgingly even if the whole 'getting up early' thing wasn't too much an issue.

"I can't recall the last time I was scolded by anyone. Usually the just treat me with kid gloves these days feels like." Let out to a few people what your weakness is, and suddenly everyone's all about it. "Well, other than Sam... other Sam," she corrects. "He showed up at my room awhile back to check on me."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon sniffs the air, and smells the melty, bubbly cheese upon cheese, and the meat toppings, with the smell of garlic and wonderfully yeasty crust. Oh yes, that pizza was done. She slides off of her stool and grabs a pair of oven mitts to slip on. "Bean? Terri? One of you get a rack or some trivets to set these pans down on, pretty please? Smells like these bad boys are done."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Keeping track? Of course he's not, the oven is. It leaves Bean free to clean up the mess he made trying to roll out enough dough for three large pizzas into a single base, feeding a few more scraps to Bear and wiping down the kitchen island until it gleams. Gleams! You could eat your dinner off it.

    "Remember, if you need to talk, just... well, I'd say come and see me but that's probably bad advice. Come and see Bear, that's probably safer."

    Trivets? Where are such things kept? It's been months and Bean still doesn't know his way around the kitchen. His future is obviously not in cooking.

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy swoops in to the rescue in regards to trivets. Or at least she grabs another few pot holders to lay out. They did in a pinch, and there were still enough left to safely take the pies out of the oven. "Got you set up," she assures as she steps back out of the way of potentially scalding dishes being weilded in her direction. "Not the best but works," she assures. "Haven't burnt down a kitchen yet." There was that one time... Nah.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie will come in with a backpack over his shoulder. He looks over and says "Oh pizza night at the school tonight?" He asks, and will stand back out of the way. "What kinds we got?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Any port in a storm, right? Shannon grabs each pan out of the oven in turn, and lays them down on the potholders spread out upon the center island. The pizzas are decidedly lopsided, some parts a bit more golden brown and others well... definitely well-cooked. But overall, they do look and smell delicious, loaded up with meats and cheese. And more cheese. Shannon grins over at Bean, and bursts out into song.

"Sweet dreams are made of cheese
Who am I to diss a Brie
I Cheddar the world and the Feta Cheese
Everybody's looking for Stilton!"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Ah, welcome to the mystery pizza parlor." Bean begins when Sam enters, clearly having spent some time with the drama class by now. He gives a theatrical bow and motions to the kitchen island, where the offerings are being set out. Offerings... never was a truer description used. "Today's specialty is Xavieritano, a delicacy found only in very specific parts of Westchester County." This delicacy, it would appear, consists of one mostly elliptical pizza smothered in cheese and meat, one slightly larger and mostly oblong pizza with slightly more meat and a hint of garlic, and a giant pizza that must have bent spacetime itself to fit into the oven, with strong hints of garlic, cheese, meat, cheese and meat. With garlic.

    The song gets him grinning. He remembers when he made that joke, weeks ago now, the start of the discovery that was mac 'n cheese. Ah, those early days...

    "Anyway, everyone, dig in. I am wholly not responsible for what might happen."

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy gives a snort of laughter at the song as her hand claps over her mouth. "Oh lord," she finally lets out between gasping breaths. That really had hit her just right. Odd, yet funny, and at just the right moment that she finds herself giggling in spite of being the oldest one here besides Cannonball. "All right, plate up," she finally states with a stern tone that wasn't all that stern. Plates are pulled out and offered over so people can start digging in.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie hmms and gets plates offering them out and some on the counter, after sitting his bag near the table. He will get him some of the last one and says "So what have you guys been doing besides pizza cooking today?" He asks as he moves to grab a drink also.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon grins over at Sam as she sets down the last of the pizza pans and turns off the oven, coming around the counter to give him a massive hug. There's no molting, and it seems that in the process of healing, her feathers have grown back. "Actually, smells like Bean did pretty well on these pies. It's protein, calcium, sometimes some vegetables, and carbs for quick energy. So, it's one of the ultimate meals!" She smiles around at the other two and shrugs. "Ran into Brad and Andrea earlier, lead Brad on a flight around the grounds while he carried Andrea. She was curious what the world was like from a flyer's point of view."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Sleeping." is Bean's confession, without any sign of contrition whatsoever. He was still tired from the magic ritual and the fight on its periphery, and sore in ways he hadn't been in months. But it seems to have lifted his spirits tremendously. So much that he's practically acting normal. By objective standards.

    "Plate up, yes ma'am." Plate it is, and the pizza slicer. The pies are divided into slices with nigh geometric precision, as much as an irregular oblong can be radially divided at all. Pretty it isn't. Edible? Only one way to find out. NOM.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie does get each of them their preferred drink after he returns the hug to Shannon "Well it looks like it has been at least somewhat productive." He will get his pizza and moves to grab a seat "So a good day then."

Nightingale has posed:
     NOM, indeed. At least two slices vanish down Shannon's gullet before anyone else can say a word, one from each of the first two pizzas, with the third from the one bearing even more meat and cheese eaten more slowly, as if to savor it. "That... hits every single spot I have. Bean, I am damn proud of you. One day may you out-cook me when it comes to pizza." She grins at the three and chomps away on her meal, the food calming the growling of her belly.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Unlikely, but thank you for the compliment." Bean's own selection was from the mega-pie, the unholy abomination, the pizza to end all pizza. The slices are so long that they need to be folded double to stop the whole thing from drooping. "Besides, Bear helped. He's the real culinary genius here."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie says, "Well I did expect he was the brains of the operation." He jokes a bit to the to, and says "May have to work on spaghetti next. It is a good one to make a big batch and be able to feed lots of folks.""

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Bear, understanding well enough when people are talking about him, perks up and grins his wide doggo smile, tongue lolling. Clearly, he is the mastermind. He's certainly a good boy, and gets another hug from Bean, although he does make sure the pizza slice is held well clear. "I'm always up for learning new things, you know that. And recipes that can feed a whole horde at once are probably worth looking into."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie looks over and will whipe his hands off making sure they are clean of grease and such and says "Can I pet him?" He will ask since it seems he is not on duty.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon has to speak around a particularly filling bite of the pizza, her words kind of muffled. "They ish a good ting to 'now. Mmhmm." The slice disappears bite by bite, savored rather than devoured, with the initial feeding frenzy past. Oh yes. This was one happy healer.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Yeah, go on. He's been a good boy, and I've been feeding him bits of sausage anyway. No harm in it." Bean acquiesces, giving Bear a good few pats on the flank as encouragement. "He'll have to have his working ears on tomorrow, but tonight he gets to relax." Much like everyone else in this kitchen, it seems.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie will hold his hand down letting the dog get his scent and if he seems ok with it will pet the dog giving him some good scritches, seems Sam knows a bit about dogs.

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy was already two slices in but eating slowly between sips of soda. She was trying to relax after all. Watching the interaction between everyone in the kitchen brings a small smile to her as she just enjoys the periphery of the camraudery here. "Doing good on the cooking either way. Better than I was at your age, I bet." She never really was one to be cooking.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie will pet the dog for a bit then that phone rings, and he looks t it sighing and says "Sorry guys." to the folks "And yes your a very good doggo" to Bear before stepping away to answer it.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Clearly, you have never seen me set a kitchen on fire." That one time... well... we no longer speak of such times. Bean just smiles and eats, enjoying the fruits of his moderate labor, and watches Sam play with Bear for a while. Life is good. "See you later, Sam." Ah well... He eats in companionable silence, content.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon swallows down another bite of pizza, peering over at Bean, and also including Theresa in her gaze. "You know, you two... spaghetti's not such a bad way to go. Sam's right there. It's a very basic base, and what really makes it all work is not only good pasta, but the sauce. And you can concoct sauces out of heaven knows what on the fly. So... yeah, good things to learn there."

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy lifts her free, non-pizza weilding hand, to point at the cupboard she'd been rummaging in not so long ago. "Yes but spaghetti o's sounds wrong. What makes a spaghetti an O? The entire point of it is that it's noodle-like isn't it?" She clucks her tongue with a little grin to show she's just goofing, however oddly. "I've got nothing against pasta though. A good olive oil based one now and then is pretty spot on. Garlic, olive oil, salt, pepper, some parsley. Add in whatever else you want. Really hits the spot."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I suppose what makes spaghetti is the sauce." Which, a cursory search on the network would seem to indicate differs almost entirely depending on which part of Italy you happen to be in. Intriguing. "No clue about the spaghetti-o's. There's a distressing tendency to add 'o' to a random staple food and market it in a way that's utterly alien to the product it's supposed to represent."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon grins. "I don't know what miss Munroe has in the greenhouses, if there are any tomato plants or herbs we could draw on. But if there are, starting you off with a basic marinara sauce could be an option, Bean. Or maybe even a good pesto. Oh gawd... a good pesto is heaven itself--and surprisingly healthy. Plus," the winged girl adds, munching on the last of her slice of pizza. "..making pasta from scratch is dead easy. Flour, salt, and water in its simplest form. Sometimes egg, but you can do without if needed or wanted."

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy wrinkles her nose a bit with the thought of it. "Pasta from scratch? That's a bit beyond me. Sauce, sure, but pasta... I'm fine with the packaged stuff." Another grin is given, and she reaches for another slice of pizza. Apparently she was hungrier than she thought. "Though I'd give it a try. You really seem like you know your way around a kitchen, Shannon."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Without Shannon, half the people in this school would starve." Bean mentions off-hand, helping himself to yet another enormous slice of pizza. And after that one, he will have to stop, because pizza for breakfast is not the healthiest of foods.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon laughs, and waves her hand dismissively. "I'm no trained chef, don't get me wrong. But I was homeschooled up till coming here. The kitchen at home was home economics, science lab, and study hall all at once. Plus, my dad's a mortician, and my mom's an artist who is great at painting the world, but definitely /not/ cooking for it. Dad's hours are pretty irregular, so it was either I pick up a few things about cooking, or we'd have spent way more on takeout than is really healthy."

Siryn has posed:
"Ah, yeah. That would do it," Terri agrees with a nod of understanding. "I didn't really have a conventional upbringing myself, but Uncle did know how to cook a bit. Or he'd have someone cook for us." Here she pauses considering how much of her history to share with these two. Surely it wouldn't hurt just a bit. "You know, Juggernaut can cook a really good steak and potatoes."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Ah, unconventional upbringings... honestly, Bean isn't going to mention his own personal circumstances. The less people that know all the detail, the better. He was getting a bit of a fearsome reputation as it was, at least before the arrival of Bear, and there were still rumors floating around that the Shepherd would bite someone in half at some kind of hidden word of command. No good can come of telling more people about what he got up to before joining the school. "Steak and potatoes... you know, I haven't had that in years. We used to eat it every Thursday, like clockwork." Clearly he has never heard of Juggernaut. Or he has, and is deliberately not mentioning it.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon just gets a confused look on her face, and has no compunction about bringing up the question. "Who's Juggernaut?" Still, the mention of steak and potatoes gets both her and Bean off on a tangent, the winged teen grinning over at her bestie. "Steak marinated in Italian dressing, with cheesy scalloped potatoes. What do you think, Bean? Theresa?"

Siryn has posed:
Theresa Cassidy stares at the two a moment when they don't recognize the name. Somehow that was more relieving than them wondering how she knew such. Finally she laughs, and claps a hand over Shannon's shoulder lightly. "Ah, a rascal you don't want to have to meet trust me. But that's neither here nor there." Grinning warmly she steps away to give Bear a quick scritch or two. "Thanks for the grub. I should get myself back to work for tomorrow's lessons. I don't want to keep everyone busy over the holidays so I'm trying to schedule things just right."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Hope you're feeling a bit better." Bean smiles indulgently, always glad when people are kind to Bear. It's like someone being nice to him by proxy, and that means a lot. Plus the Shepherd doesn't seem to mind one bit, making it clear that as far as he's concerned, there's no need to stop.

    "I'm in Mister Rasputin's class, but hopefully we'll meet again soon. Remind me to talk about making ice sculptures over the holidays."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon tilts her head and smiles. "Rascal or not, if he's family to you, then that's still important." She smiles and nods, chuckling a little. "Bah, a little studying never hurt anyone. Don't worry so much, you'll get yourself sent to the wellness office pretty quick that way. And I'd rather not have to practice healing on you." She offers Theresa a hug, smiling. "Neither of us is really hard to find. I'm usually either in the music room, my dorm, the lake, the tower, or the barn. Especially the music room or the barn. Horses sometimes make a whole lot more sense than people."