12684/Wings for lunch

Wings for lunch
Date of Scene:	26 January 2021
Location:	Kitchen - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Warren is in the kitchen making lunch, Shannon joins for a bit of conversation
Cast of Characters:	Archangel, Nightingale, Cannonball

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Archangel has posed:
Lunchtime at the mansion can be a bit hectic with all the students clamoring for their meals, so Warren tends to try and come a little bit early to try and beat the rush. Standing at the stove the winged mutant looks to be in the process of grilling up a grilled cheese sandwich, and judging by the odor in the room it smells like he has added bacon.

He is dressed as he normally is when at the school, comfortable chic. Belted jeans, a button down shirt that has been modified to accommodate the large wings that protrude from his back, and a pair of tan hiking boots to complete the outfit.

Nightingale has posed:
     Bacon. So universal that it needed its own place on the periodic table. Ba, Co, and N. It was the one constant in many a teen's diet. So when the aroma of it sizzling in the pan to be added to grilled cheese wafted through the halls, it drew at least one very hungry teen to the kitchen, singing its savory siren's song. Shannon poked her head through the kitchen doorway, inhaling the heavenly aroma and grinning. "You sure you didn't miss your calling there? That smells divine!"

Archangel has posed:
Warren smirks, "I'm hardly Gordon Ramsey or anything, Shannon. It's just grilled cheese and bacon." He slips a couple of bacon pieces onto the already grilling sandwich before placing the top slice of bread on it and flipping it carefully. As the other side toasts, he looks up to Shannon with a smile, "Want one?"

Nightingale has posed:
     "And how many times on his shows do you see Gordon Ramsey over-complicating perfectly good dishes, when simple ingredients work the best? Though I'll never quite get how he manages beef wellington... that looks like it'd be a pain in the tailfeathers." Chuckling, she slips into the kitchen more fully now, tying her hair back into a ponytail. "Heck, if there's the ingredients for it, I'll see if I can make a little fresh tomato soup to go with those, if you like."

Archangel has posed:
"Hey, he may overcomplicate some things but there is reason he is who he is. I don't question his expertise. Sure," comments Warren as he pulls the first sandwich off the grill and places it on a towel to cool. "Soup sounds nice."

Warren preps the pan for another sandwich and slaps some bread into it, "How was your shopping day with Andrea? You all manage to have a good time? Oh....I got your 'gifts'." Warren's eyes shift over to her again, a smirk on his face, "Very funny."

Nightingale has posed:
     "It went well enough. The hardest part was getting her to rein in her spending on us." Shannon rolls her eyes and chuckles, puttering about the kitchen, rooting about in the fridge and cabinets for some ingredients. The only three things she comes away with are an insane amount of butter, an onion, and a large can of crushed tomatoes. "I mean, I get it, having at least a few shirts that don't have slits in the back for a little while can help, and she really did mean well... and the clothes -are- nice... plus it'll be easy enough for me to adjust them -when- I get put back to normal. With wings."

     Into a large saucepan goes the butter, and as it's melting, she starts cutting up the onion. "How did you do it?" she finally asks, as the knife in her hand goes flick-flick-flicking on the cutting board.

Archangel has posed:
Warren nods, "That's the attitude to have, 'when'. As far as spending sprees Shan, when it comes to me and her...we don't even look at pricetags. It's just who we are. Don't try and stop us, because we don't really know the value of money." He winks, adding bacon and flipping the next sandwich. He grins, "You know, I'll take more cookies when you have a chance. Those things were tasty."

He pauses, shifting his stance to turn and look over to Shannon as his head tilts slightly, "How did I do what?"

Nightingale has posed:
     "When you lost your wings," Shannon replies, sniffling, her shoulders a bit slumped. Of course, she's working on the onions, which are plopped into the saucepan where the butter is melting nicely. "How did you cope?" Tomatoes are liberated from their metallic prison and added to the saucepan as well, and soon the whole lot is just simmering happily away.

     Simple questions might sometimes be the hardest, but simple pleasures could also be the best. The request for cookies elicits a wry little smile from the young woman and she nods. "Of course. I'll work on those after I get my classwork done for the day."

Archangel has posed:
Ahs softly, pulling the sandwich off the pan and setting it aside before turning off the burner and taking a deep breath in, "I didn't. I didn't cope at all. I was mad at the world, mad at the humans, mad at Scott and Jean for letting the humans cut them off. Mad at...the world. The one thing that I lived for was stolen from me and I thought my life was over, so.."

He pauses, lowering his head and placing his hands on the counter for support, "So I snuck out of the hospital and went to the airport, boarded my private plane and took to the sky for one last flight, and was going to kill myself."

He pauses again, taking a moment to cut the sandwich in twain and sliding over the plate to Shannon. "Of course, the world wasn't done fucking with me yet so just before the plane exploded from the bomb that my best friend had planted in it to kill me, regardless of the suicide attempt, Apocalypse teleported me out of there and gave me the offer of being able to fly again if I became his horseman of Death...and I agreed. God help me, I agreed. I traded my soul for a pair of wings."

"So...I didn't cope. Not one bit. You are stronger than I ever was."

Nightingale has posed:
     Stunned, Shannon can only listen, having the presence of mind to at least turn down the heat beneath the saucepan to low. Each word spoken etches another line of worry and concern on her youthful features. She swallowed hard past the lump forming in her throat, mist gathering in her eyes, to spill its banks in crystalline rivulets down her face. "I had no idea," she finally manages to choke out. "I'm sorry for bringing that all up for you all over again. But," she adds, looking straight at him. "If I ever catch you saying you're weak again, I'll be very, VERY cross with you."

     Without another word, she just strides right over, giving Warren a fierce hug. "I wish I was even half as strong as you are. It takes a lot of guts to own all that."

Archangel has posed:
Warren is silent for a moment, staring off into space as Shannon comes over and gives him the hug before eventually he slides an arm around her shoulder to return it. "No, I wasn't strong at all. I was selfish. I willingly let myself get turned into a killing machine just so I could fly again...and to this day it is something I struggle with. The...urges...I had as Death, I still have. I can control myself, somewhat, but it is always there just under the surface. Even after I had renounced Apocalypse, which by the way took me thinking I had killed Bobby to snap out of, I still wasn't myself. I used my new wings to slaughter people, gleefully decapitated my former best friend because he killed my girlfriend. These wings may look white, but underneath they are stained red with blood."

"No, The truth is that the 'real' Warren died that day, regardless if the body survived. Now I'm just a shell that shares the name."

Nightingale has posed:
     "No, you're not. You're alive, you're here, and I don't think the 'real' Warren died that day." Shannon doesn't let go, holding on just as long as he'll let her. "I never knew you before then. Just here and now, at the school. So maybe no, I don't know who you were then. But I see who you are now. You are stronger than I could ever be. You've held onto all that for so long. You had the strength to say 'no' when you knew you'd chosen poorly. Pardon my French, but even though you fucked up, you've picked yourself back up and gone on."

     Smiling, she just looks at him. "Ever since the first day I got here, every time someone mentioned your name, I could hear how much you were admired and respected. And now I can see why. So don't you dare let me catch you putting yourself down again. You're no more alone in this than I am. Neither of us has to cope alone."

Archangel has posed:
Warren cracks a small smile, but it is obvious that his thoughts are still somewhat tied to the past as he passes over one of the plates to Shannon. "That's nice of you to say. Just promise me that you won't go making any deals with any devils to try and get your wings back...we will figure something out. We have to. In the meantime, if you need a fix for the sky let me know and I will take you up."

Warren grabs his own sandwich, taking a bite and chewing to keep his mouth occupied from spewing forth more self-deprecating angst giving him the time to reset back to 'happy' Warren.

Nightingale has posed:
     "I miss it bad," Shannon finally admits. "I miss being able to just... be free, to be able to fly and help people with my gifts. And worse, I see two of my friends going through the same. Megan, losing her wings and some of her powers. Logan, with the loss of his gifts. I mean, come on, the man doesn't let -anybody- drive his bike, and he was three sheets to the wind, having -me-... pretty much still a kid, to most people... drive him home. Do I miss flying? Yeah, badly. But it's also pretty... petty and selfish to think about it, when people I care about are suffering even more."

     By now, even on low heat, the smell of the tomato soup is mingling with the aroma of grilled cheese and bacon, in what must surely be one of the most homely and comforting aromas other than fresh mac 'n cheese. She finally peels hereslf away from the hug to turn off the stove, and hunt down an immersion blender to finish off the soup, with a touch of basil throughout. "I promise, no deals with any devils for me. I've already made one with an archangel."

Archangel has posed:
Warren nods, taking another bite, taking the time to chew and swallow this one as well before speaking again, "That's all I can ask, then. Until the time we do get your wings back, just let me know and I will take you up. It's not going to be the same, but it is what I can do. It will get sorted out."

He takes another bite, leaning his butt up against the counter, "This is a pretty good sandwich.."

Nightingale has posed:
     Two bowls of the soup are served out, and set on the counter. A brief bit of rooting about in the fridge turned up a small container of sour cream, which is set nearby with a spoon for serving. "Sure smells it," Shannon replied, allowing herself to smile. "Don't care what gifts you have, you get between me and those sandwiches, there's gonna be words."

     Is that a giggle? No, surely it must be an auditory illusion....

Archangel has posed:
Warren Worthington chuckles as he picks up the bowl of soup set on the counter for him, lifting his other hand holding the sandwich up in surrender as he moves away from the sandwiches, "I give, I give. I know better than to get between a woman and her food. It never ends well."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon actually grins, all but pouncing on the sandwiches and tearing into one with considerable gusto. "Oh. My. Gawd. You missed your calling." There is a sigh of utter contentment as she tucks into her repast, all but purring in delight. "Maybe I ought to make these for Ted sometime... it's just a bit of bacon in the grilled cheese, right?"

     Oh, my. Is that a hint of rose on her face, or another illusion?

Archangel has posed:
Warren's brow arches up and Shannon goes full velociraptor on the plate of sandwiches, the sight managing to coax another smile out of him. "Woah, slow down. Your going to stuff yourself without even knowing it and regret it," he says with a joking lilt to his voice and a slight shake of his head. He dips the end of his sandwich into the soup and take a bite, nodding his appreciation at the flavor combination, "Yeah, just bacon in the grilled cheese, and in addition to the butter I added the rendered bacon fat from the bacon. I'm sure Ted will love them....whose Ted?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Oh, my. That rosy glow in Shannon's face just grows a bit brighter, and she smiles, slowing down and taking a moment to savor rather than simply devour her sandwich. "A fellow student here, and on the New Mutants as well. There's me, Ted, Jeremy, Xiomara, and Indi." Pause. Squirm. "He's... pretty damn awesome." Oh, yes. The sandwich and soup suddenly become -very - interesting, indeed....

Archangel has posed:
Warren Worthington chuckles, paying note to the reddening of Shannon's cheek. "So, real 'Blue ribbon' material then, huh?" Take that, leaver of blue ribbons everywhere. Two can play this game! "I don't think I have met him yet." Nonchalantly, Warren takes another bite of his dipped sandwich.

Nightingale has posed:
     "I haven't seen him in a kilt yet." Indeed, two can play at this game. Shannon tries, and fails, to suppress a giggle. Even the tips of her ears are red now. "Somehow, I don't think that's anytime in the near future. He's been a total gentleman, though." Nibbling on the edge of her sandwich, she seems to consider this. "All my friends here, they've been really supportive with this whole mess going on. Can't say enough good about all of them. Ted, though... it just seems -right-, somehow."

Archangel has posed:
"Why Shannon...what a lovely shade of red you are turning. If I didn't know better I would say you have been getting to much sun." Warren winks, taking another bite of his sandwich, "Take your time. You're young and there is no need to go rushing into anything. Just make sure you know what you are doing, you know? Take..uh..precautions and all that, if it gets to that point. I'm sure we have some...supplies...in the medical ward. And if we don't, we really should. I'll have to check."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Be glad I don't have my wings right now. I'd have whapped you upside the head for that one." Shannon just bursts out laughing, and shaking her head. "I'm not rushing this at all, and I'm not even -thinking- of ummm... needing /those/ medical supplies. Sheesh!" She just smiles more, and tucks into her tomato soup, topping hers with a dollop of sour cream and swirling it in to the sweet, earthy concoction. "It's a lot of talking... nice quiet times... just -being-."

Archangel has posed:
Warren Worthington drops his sandwich into the soup and lifts his hands in surrender, "Hey. You are of an age it is a valid concern, and what kind of guidance councilor would I be if I didn't...council. For what it is worth, you are likely making the better choice when it comes to not needing them." He shrugs a wing, "Talking is good, I am glad you have found someone to talk to. That actually helps quite a bit."

Nightingale has posed:
     "It does, a lot. He's one of those I could just talk with for hours and wonder where the time went." Shannon is perched on one of the kitchen stools, chattering away with Warren. Both seem to have bowls of fresh tomato soup, and what looks like grilled cheese sandwiches--with the delectable aroma of bacon throughout. She's in a pair of blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and has her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She's in her stocking feet, swinging her feet back and forth and lightly thumping them against the legs of the stool. "It's a gift I'm not about to question, just be grateful for."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie comes walking in from the garage area, he is carrying bags of groceries, and looks over offering the two a nod and smile in greeting. "Hey there."

Archangel has posed:
Warren nods to Shannon, dressed in what might be considered to be his normal causal attire at the school which are a pair of jeans and a button down shirt, modified for his wings. "Good way to look at it, and at least you are open to it. I wasn't. If I had just been willing to talk more, maybe.." he shrugs, "I'll just reiterate that talking is good. Hey Sam. There are sandwiches and soup if you want some."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon is caught mid-bite, chomping into one of the grilled cheese sandwiches. She waves to Sam, finishing what she's chewing before calling out. "Hey there, big bro! Hang on, let me come help you with all that!" She slides off of the stool and scurries over to help Sam with some of the bags of groceries if he'll let her. "Warren was making some grilled cheese, so I made some tomato soup to go with it. Plenty there if you want any."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie lets her help some, but does keep one bag over to the side. "Warren can cook? Ah never really thought about you cooking for some reason." He admits. He puts up a few things letting Shannon put up the cold stuff. "Figured I would grab some extra stuff while I was out."

Archangel has posed:
"As much as Shannon seems to be making a big deal out of it, it's just grilled cheese. It's not like that takes some grandiose skill in a kitchen to be able to achieve," Warren chuckles. "I can do the basics, sure. I don't order out every meal I eat."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Hey, sometimes the simple things are the best. And also the easiest to screw up -because- we think they're simple. So don't go putting yourself down." With that, Shannon nods firmly, and just... smiles. That mischievous, kid-sister sort of smile. "Take sugar cookies for example. Simple, basic sort of cookie, but so versatile." She snickers softly. "I'd even venture to say... blue-ribbon material."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie 's phone rings and he looks over it "Sorry guys I need to take this." He steps to the side to answer the phone

Archangel has posed:
Warren eyes Shannon, his brow arching as a smirk forms on his lips moments before he chucks a wadded up napkin in her direction. "Watch yourself, Shan. I can always start talking about you and...your fiend again. Who do you think would get embarrassed more quickly if it realllly came down to it? Because I can go into details...."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Only problem with that is there aren't many details to go into." Shannon just smirks, chuckling as she puts away some of the groceries, looking after that while Sam takes care of his phone call. She neatly ducks out of the way of the wadded up napkin, giggling as she catches it. It's lobbed back in Warren's direction, with a look of pure glee. "I'm not the one who flew off wearing a kilt, full Scots style."

Archangel has posed:
I'm not the one that suggested to Alice to put me into a kilt...full Scots style," Warren retorts catching the napkin, "As far as details...I know there might not be any personal ones. Yet. But I can go into tips and ticks to get there! Don't mess with me."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Hey, you're the one that said you wanted a family someday! I've seen some of the costumes she comes up with, and that would -not- have helped you! Not MY fault she made it full Scots style!" Shannon bursts out giggling, her face going bright red, leaving her coughing as she considers some of those likely details. "Ha. We'll see."

Archangel has posed:
Warren Worthington folds his arms over his chest, "Do you question me, young padawan? For you know I know the ways of the dark side."

He snorts, and takes another bite of his sandwich, "Just have Ted come see me, you know, when your ready."

Nightingale has posed:
     Another napkin is wadded up and lobbed in Warren's direction. Tomato soup has nothing on the shade of Shannon's face at this point, but she's laughing anyways. "Like I said. Could just spend hours talking to him and wonder where the time went. And he's been a gentleman, so I have a feeling he won't be looking for knowledge of the dark side."

Archangel has posed:
"Uh huh," Warren says with a grin as he sets the soup bowl into the sink, popping the last of his sandwich into his mouth. "Well, that's good. Seriously and all joking aside I am glad you have him to talk to. It helps."

Nightingale has posed:
     "There's you, too. Hey, how many wingsisters do you have, really? You just happened to wind up with one who's a pain in the neck. And a little clipped at the moment." Chortling to herself, she dips her sandwich into her soup, nibbling on the edge. "I have to say, if there's one positive thing that's come out of this whole Cure mess, it's proven who my real friends and family are. And they're all right here."

Archangel has posed:
Warren chuckles as he starts to head for the door, "Yes, you can always talk to me, though I can't promise I won't tease. You get the good with the bad, them are just the facts of life." The winged mutant winks as he starts to slip out of the kitchen, "Take care, Shannon. You know how to get ahold of me if you need me."