9625/What's Cookin'

What's Cookin'
Date of Scene:	17 October 2019
Location:	Kitchen - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	Gwendolyn and Shannon mix and match kitchen witchin', conjuring up a feast of shrimp po'boys, mac 'n cheese, with a healthy helping of laughter and good times on the side!
Cast of Characters:	Nightingale, Dragonfly (Armenteros)

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Nightingale has posed:
     Morning classes were done, and there wasn't much left on Shannon's schedule for the afternoon. However, there were less academic concerns to take care of, as evidenced by the rumbling in her belly. So she makes a quick detour to her dorm to change into plain, light blue jeans, sneakers, and a white t-shirt, ties her hair back in a ponytail, and heads for the kitchen to see what she can make for lunch. Who knows, maybe there would be enough to share!

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     Morning classes being done meant that Gwendolyn was facing down the long gaping maw of time that exists between lunch and period five. She had been put into several classes already, but a few were still getting massaged to fit her knowledge profile better, and finding space in the rather full classes was an issue, so that meant 'self study,' which meant she was left to her own devices, for better or worse.

     Dressed comfortably in the unofficial uniform when most students were not in class - loose sweatpants, a comfortable shirt, and slip-on shoes that slid easily against the polished floors - Gwendolyn made her way down to the kitchen to see what was cooking and, if not, to get something cooking. The cooks were wonderful, but there was just something about getting your hands dirty and making things yourself.

     Besides, she saw there were shrimp and fresh oysters. Perhaps a poboy or a seafood stew...

Nightingale has posed:
     If one cook in the kitchen was good, maybe two would be better! Shannon makes it through the door and heads for the fridge, rummaging through to see what she could find. Milk, butter, shredded cheese... oh yes. Elbow pasta? Definitely! Flour? Heck, yeah! She grins wide, gathering all the ingredients together and starts by setting some water to boil for the pasta.

     She hears someone coming into the kitchen, turning about to see who it is. Recognizing the young woman that she and Andrea had found in Salem Center that day, she waves, smiling wide. "Hi!" Her voice is kept soft, out of deference for her sensitive hearing. "How's it been going?"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     The sensitive hearing and eyes have been taken care of, mostly, thanks to a futuristic-looking set of goggles that cover Gwendolyn's eyes and ears. Based on Cyclops' visor, they're a little less obvious than the ski goggles and headphones she was using prior, but they're still there, easily overlooked as a stylistic choice or an electronic internet-connected thing.

     She can even get youtube on this thing and, let me tell you, it's AMAZING.

     She pauses at the sight of someone else and, for a second, really considers backing out of the kitchen but, when she sees who it is - mainly because of the wings - Gwendolyn relaxes a little and steps into the kitchen proper. "Hey there." She lifts a hand in greeting and waves, her wings on display behind her, crystalline and glassy, folded against her back like the most delicate oragami made of sugar. "Looks like you had the same idea I did?" Her head tilts to the side as she observes the makings of macaroni and cheese and, after a second, she grins. "You just going to eat that, or you want a main dish to go with it?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon giggles softly and makes room at the stove for Gwendolyn, while she starts on the roux for the sauce. Butter is melted in a saucepan, and some flour added in. "I had a craving for some comfort food, and this stuff always goes over well. So I make a little extra to leave for people to have later on." Tilting her head slightly to one side, her lips curl upwards in a smile, her eyebrows raising. "New glasses? They look kind of like Scott's. Looks good on you."

     With the water soon boiling, Shannon drops the pasta in and sets a timer, going back to the beginnings of her cheese sauce. "So what did you have in mind for a main dish? I'm open, as long as it doesn't involve pecans."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     "Nah, no pecans, unless you want me to do pecan pralines or something crusted in pecans." Gwendolyn could do lots of things with cashews or peanuts, but since you mentioned no pecans, she's not going to even push the subject. Looking at your macaroni and the start of a white sauce, Gwendolyn heads over to the pantry to see what's available. "Well..." She says, gazing into the abyss of supplies stocked around the kitchen. "We could do gumbo, jambalaya, shrimp po'boys....some basic american stuff if you want Chicken fried Chicken or Steak..." She gives a shrug with one shoulder, the left wing flicking up unconciously before it's smoothed down. "Depends on how hungry you are and how much time we have, really."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon's eyes go wide, and she grins from ear to ear. "Oh gawd... I haven't had a shrimp po'boy since I visited N'awlins when I was about nine. One of the best things I'd ever tasted, and never found out how to make 'em right myself. Unfortunately," she adds, her smile turning more rueful. "...I also found out on that trip that pecans make me sick. It was pralines that did it. Pecan pie was even worse."

     A splash or two of milk is added to the roux, along with some salt and pepper, and just a tiny hint of ground mustard powder. She turns down the heat a bit so as not to scald the sauce base, stirring it almost absent-mindedly. "Looks like you're not wearing those baggy sweatshirts anymore, either. It's kind of nice to see. Your wings are way too pretty to hide."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     Yeah, well..." Gwendolyn straightens and looks back over her shoulder at the top of one of her gleaming wings. "It was more of a survival thing than a vanity thing, hiding them on the way up here." She gives a shake of her head and, on cue, her wings shiver and tuck themselves away. "At least I've gotten better at getting them pushed down. I swear, the first few weeks I had them sticking out the bottom of my sweatshirt and nearly killed myself like four times sitting on the things." The glasses comment gets a small smile and a nod. "Thanks, they're really helping out. Make me feel pretty much normal and do a great job of hiding my eyes while dampening my senses. Best of both worlds."

     The comment about a good po'boy is taken under advisement and, with a grin and a nod, things are gathered. From the cabinet comes cornmeal and corn flour, a bag of each placed on the center island. Next, a large stainless steel bowl is found and placed nearby. "So, you want to learn how to make a real po'boy, or you want to watch me do it and enjoy the results?"

Nightingale has posed:
     The winged teen grins from ear to ear, and takes the white sauce off the burner, turning it off. The shredded cheese is added next, the whole mixture stirred well and set to the side. Just before the timer goes off, she grabs a colander and turns off the other burner as well, draining out the macaroni in the sink. "Let me get this mess in the oven and I'll take you up on the offer. It'd be great to learn how to make a po'boy."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     Well that settles that, then. With Shannon getting her sauce ready and draining the pasta, Gwendolyn switches into 'helper' mode. Not that she doesn't know how to make Macaroni and Cheese, but the faster this gets into the oven, the better. A large rectangular pyrex dish is located in one of the lower cabinets, cleaned out, and, once her hands are washed, greased with a generous portion of butter.

     Healthy this ain't.

     "What do you normally spice your macaroni with? Garlic, cayenne, salt and pepper, stuff like that? And do you do the evaporated milk trick?" Gwendolyn wipes her hands off on a dish towel and leans against the counter to watch and learn. New ways are always good to know, since it might be better than the one she uses already.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon just shakes her head and laughs. "Haven't tried evaporated milk with this. Just good ol' whole milk. Salt, pepper, and a little mustard powder for seasoning. I prefer to let the cheese speak for itself. In this case... about half and half Colby-Jack, and good white Cheddar." With the pasta drained, she mixes it into the sauce, getting it all coated and ready to go. "Oooo... merci, madamoiselle, tu es un bon sous chef!" The whole steamy, gooey, cheesy mess is poured out into the buttered pyrex pan, and bread crumbs sprinkled over all. "Let's get this bad boy in the oven."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     Gwendolyn is a good sous chef. Many years of being at her Mother's Mother's side in the kitchen, watching, passing spatulas and dishes, learning what needed to be done and having it there when it was ready to be done was something she learned rather quickly, and ensured that she got to be in the kitchen more and learn more thing. A self-fulfilling cycle, it was. As Shannon fills the pan, Gwendolyn heads over to the double-stacked oven and sets the temperature. "400? 300?" She asks, starting it pre-heating to the lower of those two numbers. EAsier to go up than it is to come down, after all. Then, she smiles and, in accented Creole-French, responds in kind! "Merci beaucoup. Je travaille très fort pour faire de mon mieux dans la cuisine."

     Then, stepping aside, she starts to gather the remaining supplies and, let me tell you, there are a lot of them! "Okay, Po'boy in three parts. First, the mayo, second the seafood, and third the salad."

Nightingale has posed:
     "350 on the oven temp, should take about half an hour." Dang, it felt good to be working with another cook in the kitchen! Shannon can't help smiling, with it being her turn to go into 'sous chef' mode. "Okay, so what do you put into the mayo for a po'boy?" Laughing, she slips her phone from her pocket and sets it on the counter nearby, flipping through to find some music. With a grin, she makes sure the sound is turned on for general hearing, no earbuds, and taps the screen. A light, jazzy clarinet tune fills the room, and soon has the winged girl dancing and shakin' what her momma gave her!

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     A twist of the knob, a couple of beeps on the timer, and the oven starts to stabilize at 350f. The oven door is flung open and Gwendolyn stands aside as the macaroni and cheese is slid in to start its bubbly journey to completion. She stands after a second and dusts her knees off - an automatic movement - and heads back to the counter, getting a few more things out of the fridge. "Mayo is mayo. Oil and eggs blended together. The stuff you add into it, though..." She grins. "That's the trick. Get mustard. Dijon, if they have it, four eggs, and some kosher salt. I'm going to rummage in the pantry to see if they have any cane vinegar. Oh, and a food processor. Because doing this by hand....nuh-uh." Gwendolyn shakes her head and can't help but grin, dancing through the kitchen, shaking her shoulders and rump, on her quest for ingredients!

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon laughs, snapping Gwendolyn a salute. "Oui, madamoiselle! Les oeufs, l'huile de cuisson, moutarde, sel casher... un moment, s'il-vous plait!" While she has been known to take on German from time to time more recently, it's evident that she's had a bit more experience in French, relishing the opportunity to get any practice she can. "Ohhhh yeah! I try to do as much by hand as I can... good strength training. But holy heck, no way would I make mayo by hand! That's just nuts!" She bustles about the kitchen, her wings bobbing about behind her to the beat, shaking her rear end and humming a jazzy counterpoint to the wailing of the clarinet, while she gathers the ingredients and the tools necessary to make the mayo. "Got to admit, never made mayo from scratch. I've always cheated." She grins a bit sheepishly at the admission.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
As Shannon gathers her things, Gwendolyn gathers the rest, ending up with a pile on the counter to make the mayo. This is just the first of three things they'll be making, after all. They even have cane vinegar! That's something she really didn't expect to find. "Once you have it this way, you'll never want the stuff out of a jar again. You can make it as thick or as thin as you want, in whatever amount that you want, it stores just as well, and you don't have to worry about refrigeration, since you make what you need." With a flourish (and a few dance moves of her own, Gwen shimmying to the music, bumping Shanon playfully with her hip), she points. "D'abord les ?ufs! Séparez les jaunes et placez-les dans le mélangeur!" And while Shannon does that, she gets the rest measured out into the bowl, mixing it with a small whisk to combine. Mustard, salt, vinegar and each egg yolk are whipped together quickly once each is added to combine and then the whole mess is poured into the basin of a food processor, the bowl scraped clean.

     "Maintenant l'huile. Vous devez verser très, très lentement. Allez, vous versez." Gwendolyn gestures to you, turning the food processor on. "Juste un petit flux pour commencer."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon giggles as she hears the music shift to another tune on her Dixieland jazz playlist, twirling around and bobbing her head to the beat. "Oui, madamoiselle." She has no problem separating out the eggs, with the yolks going into the food processor. "My maternal grandmother spoke some French around the house. I started picking it up from her. Remember the first word I learned was 'neige'. It was around Christmas time." With the bottle of oil in hand, she finally stops her dancing long enough to begin drizzling the stuff into the mixer in a very thin stream, bit by bit. "You could really do a lot with different flavors this way. Much better than the stuff from a jar."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     "Totally." Gwendolyn runs the food processor with little pulses, starting out slowly as the oil is drizzled in, speeding up the pace as more and more is added in. "Slowly now...we don't want it to break." Broken mayo is impossible to get back and wasting food just isn't in Gwen's nature, so as it starts to come together and thicken, she reaches up with a fingertip to stop the flow of oil when the consistency is just right. "I didn't have much of a family until I ended up in Louisiana. Orphan in the system, adopted. You know the story of how it goes. Lots of us don't make it out. S'why I go by Gwendolyn now instead of Ginessa. White kids had it easier getting adopted." The food processor is turned off and the top removed. "Here, taste." Gwendolyn dabs the mayo with her little fingertip, tasting it and nodding. "The cane vinegar gives it a sweet, savory taste. Too much salt, you think?" It's not a recipe really, so much as it's a taste to go by.

     "The recipe is super easy. Two yolks to a cup of oil and add whatever flavors you want to it. Even different flavored oil. One day truffle oil mayo."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon stops drizzling the oil into the food processor, setting it aside and watching as the mixture thickens. "I wasn't adopted... so something like that, I can only imagine what you went through." She lets out a soft sigh. "I'm an only child, too. My mom lost five others, either through miscarriage or crib death. I was the only one to survive." When the mixer stops, she too gets a little taste of the stuff, fluttering her wings. "Oooo, you're right. Au revoir, jar mayo! And just right on the salt, too... ooo! Yeah, there's that sweet you were talking about from the cane vinegar. That's kind of different, but I like it." She smiles some more, leaning on her elbows for a moment. "Gwendolyn's a pretty name, but so's Ginessa. Maybe someday if you have a little girl, she can have that name."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     "Maybe." Gwendolyn says quietly, scraping the food processor's contents into a bowl, the dish migrating over to the fridge to keep cool while they do the next bit. The processor and all parts that can be put into the dishwasher go into the dishwasher - a habit Gwendolyn learned from one of her adopted parents. The best way to keep a kitchen clean is to make sure it's clean while you're working. "We all have our crosses to bear."

     One of Gwendolyn's? What boy would want her, looking like she does?

     Not wanting to think of having a daughter, whether or not she'd be a good mother, or if she'd even know what to do if given the chance, Gwendolyn cleans her hands in the sink and heads to the fridge again where, inside, a good two pounds of peeled and deveined shrimp sit, wrapped in paper. "So, the fry. We need peanut oil in the dutch oven on the stove, heating to about 350. I'll get the dredge going." She puts away the stuff she had been using and starts getting more. Corn Flour, coarse-ground cornmeal, onion powder, white pepper, granulated garlic, cayenne pepper, celery salt...all the good stuff needed for a good fry up.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, rummaging around till she finds some peanut oil to put in the dutch oven, frowning slightly. "350, got it. About how deep should the oil be?" She glances over in Gwendolyn's direction to see what she's making for the dredge for the seafood, and noting each ingredient and its proportions. "Ooooo, so that's why it tasted so good in N'awlins. All the right spices!" She grins, giggling to herself.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     The flours are combined in a shallow dish, along with a dash of this and that, all mixed together with a fork to make it a more consistent color. "Not more than half full. If we overcrowd the pot, I don't want to deal with the cleanup afterwards if it boils over. Fire and oil are never good combinations." Gwendolyn mixes carefully, dumps the shrimp in a colander to rinse them off, then on to a plate covered with paper towels to pat dry, setting up a 'dredge station' near the stove while the oil heats. Then, using the 'wet hand, dry hand' method, one hand takes the shrimp and puts it into the dredge, the other mixing it around to coat completely and then taking it out to rest on a cooling rack on top of a rimmed baking sheet.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods and fills the dutch oven a little less than half full of the peanut oil, just to play it safe. She also makes sure there's a thermometer on hand to double-check the oil, keeping a very careful eye on it. Fire and oil was not something she wanted to mess around with! "Ugh, tell me about it. Burns are a real bear to heal. One from boiling water is bad enough, but oil? Nooooo thank you!" She looks at the readout on the thermometer, and smiles. "This is getting pretty close. I imagine it's not going to take long for the shrimp, those cook fast as it is by other means."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"If it takes more than a couple of minutes, we're overcooking them. You want golden brown and tender, but not dry. Once they start floating, they're close..." Washing her hands again, Gwendolyn peers into the pot and the shimmering heat of the oil before taking shrimp one at a time, getting really close to the surface, and layering them in with a bubble and a sizzle of frying food. "I never asked." Gwendolyn says off-handedly. "Because I never knew how to ask other than right out. What's your...trick? Your gimmick? I mean, the wings I see, but you can heal people too?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods and steps back, observing while Gwendolyn starts in on the first batch of shrimp. "Yeah, I heal on touch. It's kind of like I'm a sponge for injuries. Say you got burned or cut. If I touch it, and I'm not actively trying to stop it from happening, then yes, I will absorb the injury. It will become my own, and you'd be fine." Her lip curls upwards in something of a lopsided grin. "But on the other side of things, I heal faster than most, so... a broken bone? Give it a few days. Cuts? A day or so. Burns? Depends on what degree." Rolling her eyes, she laughs softly. "And if I land myself in the medbay in the process, you can bet I'm going to be hearing about it from Logan. Been in his class since just after the start of the semester."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     "So that's why you went to the medbay right after I got here. helping some people out what got hurt a little too much on a mission." Gwendolyn nods her head slightly, turning the shrimp with a pair of chopsticks she found in a drawer connected at the top with a bit of string, turning them, watching them critically until the moment that she thinks they're close, plucking each one from the oil and placing it on a plate with paper towels on it to absorb the oil. "I'm still not sure exactly all I can do. That trick I did with your phone and the baby pictures..." She snickers, still remembering the Bathtime Shannon picture she saw, shaking her head. "I figured out after a little while. There's probably something else I can do with insects, but I haven't figured that out, yet. And the wings?" She flutters them. "No idea if they even work."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods slowly. "Yeah. The one I was in the medbay for was healing a woman over in Metropolis who saved four mutant kids, and let me tell you, she was in rough shape. Almost gave her life to help those kids. So it was the least I could do when Mr. McCoy called me in to help." She rolls her eyes and chuckles a little. "That's when I got a hint of a rather annoyed Logan. Pretty much got the 'you've got to set boundaries for yourself' talk from him."

She giggles softly, turning red at the mention of the baby pictures. "Yeeeeeah, those. Keep them to yourself, will ya?" A perplexed look crosses her features at the mention of possible connections to insects with Gwendolyn's power, and shrugs. "Not sure if there's anyone here who has that. Have you maybe tried asking Jean, see if she could point you towards someone, or find some way to help you figure things out? She's actually really nice to talk to. So's miss Munroe."

Gwendolyn's wings get another glance, and she shrugs, grinning. "Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there? We could go out and give it a try sometime soon, before the weather starts turning really bad for the season."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     Gwendolyn is quiet as she adds the remaining pound of shrimp to the pot, listening to it all sizzle as it slowly cooks through, stirring it with the spider, careful to not burn herself as she does. "What's it like?" she asks softly. "Flying, with your wings? Not that I've done it, or even if I can, but I just...wonder. You know?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon grins from ear to ear, stepping back a bit to keep her wings well away from the stove as she spreads them open a little wider. Even not at their full span, they're still fairly large. "It's like nothing can hold you down. You're just... /free/. You get to see things that most humans can only dream of, and you don't need a plane or glider or anything to do it. The sky is your backyard." Her grin fades a little bit, dampened to more of a rueful smile. "There haven't been too many flyers here. There's Megan, she's pretty fast. Jay just arrived here not long ago. He's Cannonball's brother. Then there's me. And now you."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     The last of the shrimp is taken out of the pot and placed on the plate to drain, the oil turned off and pushed to the back of the stove to be out of the way to cool, as to not accidentally dump on someone or be a hazard to wings or fingers. Gwendolyn nods her head and looks over at Shannon and her wings, reaching out to touch one, feeling the feathers between one thumb and forefinger before letting her own wings unfold. Like dragonfly wings made of glass, they are, almost as big as Shannon's but while Shannon's have heft to them, Gwendolyn's seem diaphanous and airy, almost more not there than there. She gives them an experimental flutter and then, just as quickly, folds them away again on her back, moving to finish the meal.

     "Okay, so..." Her voice quavers. "We've got our crunchy shrimp, and the mayo, so we need something acidic to help break up all that fat. Go grab a red onion and a tomato if you can find it, and I'll see about horseradish and sherry vinegar for the salad." Po'Boy's normally use lettuce but this seems to be something different.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon smiles, holding still as Gwendolyn examines her wing, just like she has for others before. "Hey... that was good. Get used to moving your wings like that, and how it feels. That'll help you when you try to fly." She raises her eyebrows, and nods. "L'oignon, oui. La tomate, oui. Did you want that onion sliced into rings, or diced? And what about the tomatoes?" This was definitely different, and she moved to get the two vegetables in question, humming to herself. It should be interesting to see what came out of this!

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     Gwendolyn rubs her shoulder with one hand, bobbing her head lightly in thanks. She'll practice, even though she doesn't say it. Still, the spice cabinet is getting a workout, with the things Gwedndolyn has used being put away, the things she needs being pulled out, almost as soon as she's done with them. "Little strips, if possible. Julienned. When we add the horseradish and vinegar to it, it'll make almost like a chutney salad...thing. I don't really know how to describe it other than it's good and tasty and a nice counterpoint to all the flavor we're packing into these po'boys."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon can't resist plucking one of the shrimp from where it's cooling and taking a bite. It looks as if she's gone to heaven, rolling her eyes and making an appreciative sound. "Oh my flippin' god... I've died and gone to N'awlins!" She giggles, nodding as she goes to peel the first two layers off of the onion, over by the sink. She keeps cold water running over it while she does, and it seems to help cut down on the fumes. Still sniffling a little bit, though, she slices the onion in half, then into wedges, and then slices those again crosswise to come out with small strips. For the tomatoes, she takes a cue from the chutney reference, and dices those like she would for a salsa. "Gaah... these onions are strong!"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     The shrimp has a nice crunch, and all the spices and seasonings hit Shannon's tongue in just the right way, the shrimp cooked through just perfectly. Seems that Gwendolyn knows her way around a frypot. "It'll make you strong!" Gwendolyn says with a giggle, passing over the bowl with the sherry and horseradish so the tomatoes and onion can marinate a little, covering it all with plastic wrap so the fumes don't overpower poor Shannon. "Your mortal weakness is onions?" she asks with a giggle, going to find two french rolls for the finishing touches, putting them down on a plate and retrieving a bread knife to cut into, but not all the way through the bread, hinging them open on one side.

     "Now, the assembly...!" There's almost a reverence in the way she puts that, taking the mayo out of the fridge and spreading a little on each side, stacking eight or so shrimp on each bun, and then finally adding a little of the onion and tomato salad. "Macaroni and cheese, a bottle of mexican coke, and you've got a lunch that'll be to die for."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon giggles and shakes her head. "No, my mortal weakness is some good dark chocolate. Those onions were just really strong. Usually the cold water trick works." She watches as the po'boys are assembled, and gives it a try herself on the next one. It's not quite as pretty as Gwendolyn's, but at least looks to be edible!

And just then, like that, the oven timer goes off, signaling the completion of the mac 'n cheese! She grabs a pair of oven mitts, slips them on, and gets the pan out of the oven; rich, decadent, cheesy smells fill the room, basic, simple, and just plain out /good/. "There should be a trivet over there to set this on so I don't ruin the counter."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     It takes a little rummaging, past the drawer with the dish towels, past the one with the pot holders until. "Got it!" A simple circular trivet with a floral motif engraved on it is held aloft and set down quickly so the steaming pan can be placed down without Shannon burning her fingers or anything like that. "We have to be quick. This smell is gonna bring people out of the /woodwork/ for a bite."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon laughs and sets the pan down on the trivet, stepping back to admire their mutual handiwork. "Ohhh yeah. We're going to have to eat, pronto. Or we won't get to have any at all!" The potholders are hung back up in place, and the smells are really starting to fill the room now, likely wafting out into the adjoining rooms and the hallways....

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     The sandwiches are positively /huge/ so, instead of being that gal, Gwendolyn uses the bread knife to cut them into three equal-sized pieces. Then, retrieving a pair of plates, a hunk of the po'boy and a scoop of the macaroni and cheese is placed on each, one plate offered over to Shannon with a smile. "Hey thanks for treating me like a person." She says softly, heading to the refrigerator to grab a few of the aforementioned Mexican cokes, popping the top with one of the edges of chitin on her arm.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon looks strangely at the Mexican cokes, picking it up and examining it. "Never seen one of these. This... ought to be interesting." Le gasp! She's actually -never- had a mexican coke? She finds a bottle opener to pop the top and takes a cautious sniff, then a sip. "Ooooo... nice! Reeeally nice!" The plate is accepted, and a smile offered in return. "No need to thank me. Why /wouldn't/ I treat you like a person? You /are/ one. Okay, so you've got a few things different. So what? You put your pants on one leg at a time, too."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     "The tingle you feel is real sugar." Gwendolyn grins and pulls up one of the barstools tucked under the edge of the central island, sitting down, her wings hanging over the back, before she starts to take a bite or two. "Not saying you wouldn't. Or don't. Just for the longest time, I wasn't treated like a real person. It's taking me a little time to get comfortable with how I am now. You know?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, and smiles faintly. "Yeah, I do know. I was luckier than most, my family was always there for me. But my friends, and their friends, and most everyone else... wasn't. When my gifts manifested, I went from friend to pariah, pretty quickly. And, as much as my family loves me, this isn't a world they can fully share." She takes a bite and enjoys the po'boy for a moment, washing it down with some of the mexican coke. "I felt alone and out of place, even with my own family, even as much as they loved me and did the best they could." She traces idle circular patterns along the countertop, thinking for a moment. "One thing that really got me through... and you can laugh at this if you want... is thinking of how Captain Rogers must've felt, coming out of the ice. How alone he must've felt, with everyone he knew gone. But he found the strength to get through, and that... well, it helped me get through it, too." She rolls her eyes and laughs a little, going a bit red. "Can't believe I actually told him about that once. Actually got him to smile."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     "You really met Captain America?" That kind of changes things, Gwendolyn sitting up from where she was leaning over her plate. "Why would I laugh at that? That's a cool story with a great message." And it is.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon nods, and laughs. "Would you believe the first time I met him it was right outside the music store where we found you? I was coming out of there with my hands full and literally rammed right into him. He was a gentleman about it, though. Turned out to be real nice. Wasn't the last I saw of him either." She cracks a smile, thinking back. "It's not unheard of for him to be here at the school on occasion. Not a real common thing, though, he's got his hands full." She laughs some, and just grins. "Ran into Mr. Stark that same day, too. It was like running into a force of nature. Pretty intimidating at first. But the next time I ran into him, he wasn't quite so bad. I'm learning to respect him, a lot. So what if my gifts aren't as strong as some here? Doesn't mean I can't be anything I want if I work at it. He managed, so why can't I?"

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     "You can't just namedrop names like that!" Gwendolyn splutters, laughing. "That's like saying 'oh, I met the president and Bono and Brad Pitt all at the same time, then we had tacos." All nonchalant like that! Gwendolyn leans back on her stool, nearly rocking back and off but catching herself at the end with one quick grab of the edge of the counter. "It's just...hard to believe I can be a part of a place that has things like that happen often enough for you to just say 'they come around sometimes.' That' so /cool!/"

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Shannon laughs and smiles. "Thing is, they're just normal people under all that, too. Do you know how close I came to going all fangirl over the good Captain that first time? Took everything I had to keep my jaw together. But... just treated them both /normal/, and it worked out. They're as human as we are. Even if we've got a few things different."

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Gwendolyn nods and munches quietly on her po'boy, taking a bite of the macaroni and cheese, swooning a little at the taste. "Oh god that's so good..." she purrs, wiggling playfully on the seat, bouncing in delight and then smiling at Shannon. "I know that they are, but you don't see them as that. They're either the saviors of the universe like Flash Gordon or the worst thing since terrorism. You never get to see the people beneath the mask. But you get to." She giggles. "How cool is that?"

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Shannon chuckles, and shrugs. "Yeah, I guess it is pretty cool. Hey... they ever show up here again--and hopefully not on just business--I'd just up and say hi to them. Seriously. They're not all that bad. And if you don't feel up to that by yourself, I'll be your wingman. Pun intended." She smiles some. "Doesn't take superpowers to be a hero. Just a big heart, and a will to match. Those two... and god only knows how many right here at the school... have that in spades. Cannonball... Jean... Scott... Logan... Mr. Green... Mr. McCoy... miss Munroe... Bean... so many big hearts."

She looks at Gwendolyn and rolls her eyes. "You know we have to sing that now, right?" Glancing over to one side of the kitchen, she sees a crockpot with something bubbling inside that smells like... chili. But then she looks right back at Gwen, and grins, opening her mouth and singing right out.

"FLASH! Aaaaahhh! Savior of the universe!"

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"I can imagine me, sitting in the background just watching with an autograph book or something, coming up and squeaking out a hello, and then you appear, put your arm around my shoulders and then force me to face some real actual heroes in conversation. The horror, the horror!" Gwendolyn is deadpan when she says that part but giggles, the humor indicating that she's only joking. And then you burst into song.

"Of course we have to!" Gwendolyn clears her throat, straightens her back and sings the next verse.

"FLASH! A-ah! He'll save every one of us!"

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Shannon smiles. "I've been reminded many times by a lot of different people, that /real/ heroes aren't always the ones with the flashy powers or getups. They're the ones that stand up for what's right when nobody else will, even if the cost is high. And trust me, it can be." She joins in, adding her voice to the next line of the song with Gwendolyn, the two singing, laughing, and enjoying good food and a good time. What a day!