15732/Brunch of Champions

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Brunch of Champions
Date of Scene: 22 October 2023
Location: Living Quarters, Titans Tower
Synopsis: America raids the Titans kitchen like the shameless mooch she is. But hey! Burritos for Cassie!
Cast of Characters: Miss America, Wonder Girl

Miss America has posed:
The sound of sizzling food is the backdrop for the Titans Tower's living quarters today.

It's a crackling heat and scent of seasoning that has been steadily filling the living room with the signs of activity and life for the past ten minutes or so. Someone, it seems, is hard at work at the noble art of brunch.

That person is not -quite- one of the Titans regulars: America Chavez, infrequent guest of the Tower, can currently be found in the living room's spacious kitchen. The Utopian is currently at work over the stove, mixing a medley of chicken, peppers, broth, beans and other spices together into a thick slurry of filling inside a sizzling frying pan. There's several other things spread across the kitchen: opened spices, used bowls, a healthy pile of tortillas just ready to be used.

For now, America seems to be mostly focused on her cooking; dressed in red short-shorts and a blue, star-spankled cropped tank top, her curly hair has been pulled back into a tight ponytail, thick wavy locks spilling over one shoulder as she watches that mixture of meat and veggies simmer; a few bags, filled with America's sparse belongings, have been left at the counter opposite her.

If it's strange for someone to just show up and start making food somewhere they're not currently living, well -- America's just being a good guest, really!
Wonder Girl has posed:
The one good thing about her penchant for 'Street' clothes as a uniform. It gives Cassandra Sandsmark a bevy of options. In this case as she appears wearing red leather jeans, and a almost color matching crop top with the standard =W= in gold. Her long mane of blonde kept out of her eyes with a black hairband, matching her belt and boots.

It's probably some weird magical demigoddess power that she can get pants that tight on and still move like she was in yoga pants.

Another fun thing, usually. Enhanced senses. Including that cute little snoot of a sniffer. The scent of food hitting her like a a truck. Well more effectively than a truck.

"Oh Hera that's amazing!" she says as she floats up and maybe as a gag, levitates to the kitchen in an almost cartoonish manner of following her nose to peer around America's star spangled "I got a side gig in Mexico coming up and I'm pretty certain this is going to be better than anything I can get in Tijuana."
Miss America has posed:
Superhero Amazons of a street clothes flock together. Maybe that's why Cassie is quick to arrive fresh on the heels of America's cooking.

Or, you know, maybe it's just the food. Either way; America appreciates the blonde's style.

That doesn't stop her from arching an incredulous brow as the daughter of Zeus comes floating in like she was chasing the invisible mouthwatering scents in the air, though. She watches the Looney Tunes rendition of Cassandra Sandsmark with a blank stare from the moment she appears to the very second she invades the Utopian's personal space. Somehow, she manages to keep occasionally stirring at the same time, without spilling a thing. The skills of a princess of paradise...!

Regardless, when Cassandra finally arrives close enough to start peering, America's sole action is to lift her free hand, and boop Cassie's snoot.

"You're ridiculous, blondie," she declares flatly, but with the faintest hint of amusement in that dark stare before she returns to her cooking.

"Yeah?" she asks after Cassie's side gig, even as her focus shifts. "Never been." To Tijuana? It's true enough; she hasn't been, here at least. "This is just something I picked up while I was growing up. You guys have such a kickass kitchen, figured I might as well use it."

America Chavez's logic. If Cassie saw some of her other friends' kitchens, well -- she would understand.

"Wanna help? I'll split with you." She nods her head in the direction of the burritos and the bowls of veggies and rice, even as she takes the chicken medley off the stovetop. "Start adding in some of the filling while this cools. Fried rice first, then tomatoes, then cilantro."

She lifts the sizzling frying pan with a little grin. "Then we get the meat in there."
Wonder Girl has posed:
It's probably the fact that they both tend to sometimes wear similar coloring and the whole star spangled adornments on their clothes. Cassie's hips in this case.

Setting her feet, the heels of her boots clicking on the hard floor lightly. Even with a few inches of them, America still towers over the comparatively tiny blonde.

She goes giggle at being called ridiculous. "I get that a lot on the Island. But we all get our hardcore moments too." she says with a playful smile while she enjoys the smell of what's in the pan at point blank range. "I've been to other places in Mexico, not actually going to Tijuana this time. Some weird magicky nightmare Chupacabra stuff. One of those randomly dispersed portent things instead of Titans, Amazon, or other bio-fam stuff. Kinda also hoping it means doing archeology stuff. After the monster slaying. I was a nerd long before grew up into this awesome package." she states.

Already she's heading for the sink to wash her hands.

The Kitchen big enough to cook a meal for way more than just two people.

It's pretty clear she's answered in an affirmative when she starts working the rice into the the mix. "Give it a few minutes and you'll probably have everyone else coming here!" she states.

The Tomatoes and then the cilantro. "If you want more Coriander, just add some of the mustard in the fridge!" she jokes.

There is a lot of mustard types in there. And a tasty Koriand'r around somewhere.
Miss America has posed:
Frying pan set aside to let the contents chill, America turns, leaning herself back against the stove. Folding her arms over her chest, she takes a moment to watch Cassie get to work; her head cants to the right, brown curls of her ponytail bouncing with the motion.

"Weird magicky nightmare Chupacabra stuff, huh," she recites, as if it were the technical terminology. Her brows edge up in tandem with every uttered syllable. "So. You're risking your life running solo for the chance to nerd out."

It's not the most generous summary, but, one can assume America's joking by the very faintest upward tug at the corner of her lips, as if to suggest a smile.

"Hey, you do you, blondie."

With that, she plucks up that skillet again and moves closer to the smaller blonde Amazon-slash-demigoddess. As Cassie finishes out the initial layers of rice and veggies and seasonings, America starts portioning out that cooled-but-still-steaming, spicy mixture of chicken, beans, peppers and seasoning.

"Cheese is comin' next," she asides -- which is just about when Cassie starts talking about bringing out the others. America's response is the nonchalant lift of her shoulders as she reaches out to grab the bowl of shredded cheese, as if she was fine with - or maybe even expected - that.

She's just about done sprinkling already-melting cheese over that filling when Cassie makes her fated, harrowing move:

If you want more Coriander...

America Chavez pauses in the middle of portioning out that last bit of cheese. She blinks. And slowly, brown eyes look sidelong towards Cassie.

And there she just stares in long, long silence at the smaller blonde, as if to just let that moment settle. Or maybe she's just too stunned.

Her lips finally part.

"You proud about that?" she asks, and she doesn't really need the answer because she knows -- who wouldn't be proud about such a perfectly timed word crime? The world is hopeless!

And so instead, she just snorts and hipchecks Cassie, because she knows there's no way to make her feel guilt for what just transpired.

"Fuck you. Just fold up these burritos, friki."
Wonder Girl has posed:
So Cassie helps with the cooking as directed. At least she made no puns about meat. The sizzle and the smell of it mixing with all the aromatics and other vegies like a dance party hitting her nose.

The smaller woman ducking and weaving under arms and bowls and utensils deftly so nothing gets bumped by bodies that should not be bumped on by bodies. Which is pretty much bodies.

"I do me plenty! Actual cheese, not just my jokes so bad, they land on funny from the opposite direction." she adds and keeps things playful.

"I have no regrets. And I accept my punishments. As is the way of the Amazons." she adds and gets wrapping those burritos. It actually takes some deft skill to make sure the right amount of stuffing is put in so the tortillas can fold and wrap as intended. "You know, we could take these one step further. Oven them, go for some enchiladas. Or deep fry, and go chimichangas Maybe for left overs if we leave any!" she ponders and maybe is punctuated by a faint growling of her stomach within that possibly unfairly tiny midsection.
Miss America has posed:
Mouthwatering aromas of burritos nearing completion have fully saturated the living room by now. It's a paradise of flavor! Or, torture, if all you can do is smell them right now and are deathly hungry.

"Yeah?" wonders America after Cassie's solemn acceptance of her fate. She arches a brow, and considers.

"Guess it's time for me to think of a punishment, then."

America and Cassie make a good team, if nothing else, and soon enough, those tortillas are all folded up and at the ready. America, in fact, is about to pile them on plates when Cassie interjects with an idea. She blinks, and looks sidelong at the blonde Amazon. Once more, the Utopian considers.

And then she grins, and offers a bump-ready fist up towards the blonde.

"Nice. I like the way you think, blondie."

So, burritos are had, America and Cassie crashing on the couch to binge some trashy show or another as they indulge in some fine brunch burritos and talk. And when all's said and done?

There's plenty of burritos left for the fryer to turn into a cornucopoia of chimichangas.

America knows a good idea when she sees one.