Amanda and Marie-Ange, Tuesday morning
Sep. 5th, 2006 08:38 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAfter Marie-Ange and Amanda's exchange on Medusa's journal, Marie-Ange visits for breakfast (eggs, toast, mushrooms), and advice (social).
Eggs, tomatoes, bread, bacon, mushrooms, orange juice... Amanda hummed slightly to herself, a Clash song, as she pulled various breakfast ingredients from the fridge, closing the door with her foot. She was worried about Marie-Ange, yes, especially in light of Doug's visit the night before, but she also had the beginnings of a plan. Plus it had been a while since the two of them had sat down and talked. That prospect was always a cheering one for her. She'd left the door part-open, so the other girl could let herself in, and was in the process of swilling out the teapot when Marie-Ange arrived.
Marie-Ange had a almost-sinking feeling that breakfast was going to involve black pudding. Except she knew better then to think Amanda would torture her quite that much. But she'd heard far too many things about a 'Full English Breakfast' to not worry just a little. She knocked on the door as she pushed it open to announce her arrival, so as not to startle Amanda. "Holidays confuse my schedule. I keep thinking it is Monday." she said, by way of greeting.
"Yeah, I noticed you were having trouble with that," Amanda replied with a grin. "Have a seat - you want some orange juice? Tea'll be a few minutes." She indicated the kitchen table, cleared of random spell books and papers and set with Amanda's mis-matched cutlery and crockery. "I can't remember. How're you with mushrooms?"
"I did it last week too, but without the holiday to blame." Marie-Ange said, sounding amused at herself. "I am just bad with Mondays, I suppose." She sat down in a nearby chair, turning it to face Amanda's kitchen. "Or maybe I am bad with Tuesdays, since I never seem to think Monday is any other day. I just think Tuesday is always Monday. And mushrooms are fine, unless they are those little scary wet ones from the hunan restaurant."
"Nope, not those scary ones, just your good old fried ones." Amanda popped a couple of teabags in the teapot and switched the kettle on, before moving to pour some juice for both of them and then continue slicing up said fungi. "Never trust food that's older that you are, that's what I always say." She glanced at Marie-Ange. "How's the renovating? I didn't realize you were still at it, or I would have offered to help out more."
"I cannot eat anything that looks like an ear. Scary mushrooms, dried apricots, fried pork skins." Marie-Ange said, laughing. "It isn't so much that I am still at it, as I started again. The wall between my kitchen and living room was bothering me, and it was not as if the wall supported anything. So I had Wanda beat it up with a sledgehammer. Which she seemed to enjoy."
"Random destruction? Yeah, that'd be the Boss Lady's thing." Amanda chuckled, pleased to hear her friend laughing. "She was talking about dragging us into the gym for hand to hand training. Well, me, mainly. After getting myarse handed to me by Mark, I need it, I think." Putting butter in one of the two pans on the stove, Amanda turned it on and waited for it to heat before adding several half-tomatoes, sprinkling fresh basil on them. "Still, even with Wanda breaking things, must be a hell of a lot of work on your own."
"Wanda is the only person I know with her own personal sledgehammer." Marie-Ange said. "I would not be surprised if it had a name." She took a long drink of her juice, and set the glass down. "I think Remy has made similar threats, about hand to hand training." She wasn't entirely looking forward to it. "I am not doing it all at once. And, it is.. I am not sure how to explain. It keeps me busy. It is just... a very large hobby. Like people who work on cars, only without the engine oil or grease."
"Or Sofia and her shoes?" Amanda suggested, with a snicker as she added bacon and the mushrooms to the pan and started buttering several slices of bread on both sides. "Well, if it keeps you sane, good for you." She raised her eyebrow at her friend. "Well, as sane as you get, any way," she teased.
"Sofia has more shoes than anyone. I think she had more than Lorna and Alison and I put together." Marie-Ange said, trying to look at what Amanda was cooking without being obvious about it. There was a definite lack of anything scary. No pudding, no sausages the size of a baby's arm. "I am sane." She protested. "For a very ... creative definition of sane that means I can balance my bank account and not wear a tin foil hat and still work for someone who used to spy for the CIA and is probably still a wanted criminal." She paused. "I still feel bad for Sofia. She had to read my entire medical history file from Dr. MacTaggart."
Finishing her buttering, Amanda cut holes in the middle of the bread and then put the slices into the second pan. "That must have kept her going for a while," she replied, chuckling. "Tho' she didn't raise an eyebrow with my whole sordid childhood, so either she's a bigger freak than all of us put together or she's a really hard nut to crack." She paused, trying to think of a way to nudge things towards that reply to Medusa's journal. "How're things generally? Besides renovating and Sofia and work? If there's anything else after that, that is," she asked casually, turning various things with increasing sizzling noises.
"Or she is just posing as unflappable and hides under her bed at night wondering if we are going to kill her in her sleep." Marie-Ange speculated lightly. "Things are... all right, I suppose. I was not quite expecting... " She shrugged. "I got used to being around the entire school, and now it is just the few of us. It is quieter than I expected.."
"Doesn't help half of us haven't been in the country for more than five minutes, it seems," Amanda replied, turning the bread over and reaching for the eggs. "I saw that comment you made in the new girl's journal," she said at last. "Seemed like you were having a... well, a wiggins, as Jubilee would have called it."
"Jubilee watches too much television." Marie-Ange said. "I just.. Sometimes I wonder if I had been less.. well, inclined to say things like "Jubilee watches too much television", if things would not have gone quite the way they did." She shook he head. "And Medusa, and her sister seem so... rigid and proper and somewhat intolerant of people who are not proper all the time."
Cracking eggs and dropping the yolks into the holes in the bread, Amanda considered her friend's words. "It depends," she said at last. "See, I don't think you're intolerant of people who aren't proper - hell, how long have we been friends? But I think maybe sometimes you go with the proper when you aren't comfortable with things, and that can put people off." It was perhaps a good thing she was occupied with cooking, since she probably wouldn't be able to say what she was if she was looking at the other girl.
Marie-Ange gave up on trying to figure out what exactly Amanda was cooking. It smelled good, and so far, nothing she'd seen looked scary. "I was always taught to be polite first, and to make jokes second. But it is a bit more than just that, but this is hard to explain. I certainly gave some people a difficult time. Jubilee, Illyana..." She paused. "Though, Illyana does not count. She is still horrible."
"The secret to dealing with Illyana? Is to be nice to her. Takes the wind right out of her sails." Amanda snickered and flipped over the eggy bread. "And you know, for the most part, I'd much rather you than someone like Lorna - you saw how she ripped into that new girl, with those 'jokes' of hers. At least you don't take out bad moods on the unsuspecting. Well, except when your powers are driving you balmy." The kettle boiled, and she nodded at it. "Can you pour the tea? Hands are a bit full here."
"No, I just take them out on the brightly colored and loud." Marie-Ange argued. And stood to get the tea kettle. Which meant, she realized, she could get a good look at the food. "Or yell at people without good reason just because they are not doing just exactly what I would like them to do." She took the kettle off the stove, and paused, with it still in mid-air. "Amanda... why are there eggs in the middle of that bread?" She asked.
"Eggy in a blanket." Amanda chuckled. "Staple of the fried breakfast - toast and eggs in the one handy package. 'S good, I promise." She bumped Marie-Ange lightly with her hip. "Tea. And then plates. This is ready."
"I am getting tea." Marie-Ange protested, unable to stop herself from laughing. "I was just distracted by the eggs." She dodged around Amanda, avoiding any more potential bumps and poured tea, and then collected the mismatched plates that matched the mismatched cutlery. "So, now I am wondering, where did the middles of the bread go?"
"Where else?" Amanda patted her belly. "Into the Bottomless Pit of course." She carefully slid the eggs (and toast) onto the plates, following with bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. "I left off the black pudding and the kippers - figured you needed feeding since you tend to default to birdseed on your own." As Marie-Ange took the plates to the table, she switched off the stove and brought the teapot over. "Tuck in," she instructed, and then grinned wickedly. "And don't worry about being proper - fry ups tend to discourage manners, especially when the egg dribbles."
"So there is a pudding involved?" Marie-Ange said, relieved that it was nowhere to be found. "I should have expected that you ate the middles." There would be a bored-at-work doodle in that somewhere, she thought. There almost always was. "I eat more than bird seed. I have waffles in my freezer." Of course, generally she toasted the waffle and ate it on the way out of the door.
"Sometimes. Depends on how hungover you are." Amanda sat herself down, reaching for the HP sauce automatically. "Personally I'm not too keen on it - 's too... bloody, I s'pose. And Rack used to love it." She wrinkled her nose at the thought and then shrugged and began eating. "So, this soul-searching of yours... come to any conclusions? Apart from that you're a horrible snob and people do well to hate you?"
"That would be about the whole of it." Marie-Ange said, between a careful bite of toast-and-egg. "The one student, Crystal, and now her sister. Both are so very serious and proper, and seem rather unforgiving of people who enjoy things they do not. And I have to wonder, is that what people saw of me?" She shook her head, staring at her plate, and eating another bite of food.
"Well, that's making a couple of assumptions." Amanda held up her hand and ticked off her fingers. "One, that Crystal and her sister are that way, and two, that you behaved the same as them. I beg t' differ on both counts, for the same reason - none of you hit my snobby bitch buttons." She shrugged. "Maybe I'm in the wrong here, but if it's bothering you that much, maybe try and change? Post on the journals a bit more, talk to people you don't normally, that sort of thing." She grinned wickedly. "You could come on the New York bus run with me one Saturday. If the kids don't make you loosen up, nothing will."
"I do not mean that they are necessarily snobs. Neither grates on my nerves, or reminds me of, say, Monet. They just both seem so reserved and proper.." She took a bite of bacon, biting hard enough to cause the piece to crumble a bit and fall back on to her plate. "Hindsight is far more accurate than foresight, even in my case." She made a mock-horrified face at the idea of the bus trip. "Are they better or worse then we were? No chasing them down out of nightclubs they should not be in?"
"They're a good bunch, actually. No dramas... yet." And here she knocked on the table. "Tho' I had to bail Julio out of a tricky spot with a journo the first week. Considering the shite half of them went through to get here, 's pretty amazing. And there's none of the other shite. Even the ones that feel guilt, they're dealing with it and moving on. 'S a lot less tiring than some folks at the school."
"I could..." Marie-Ange thought for a moment. "I suppose I could leave off destroying any more walls for a weekend. Perhaps spend a weekend building bridges.." Which would help with half the problem. The other half she wasn't even sure how to approach. "Though, repairing any broken ones is much harder."
"That's the tricky part," Amanda agreed. She definitely knew about the repairing broken bridges, given her patchy success at it. She shoved a forkful of eggy toast in her mouth and chewed and swallowed before going on. "It helps, if the other party knows you're open for the bridge building. Make the overture, let them know you're willing to try, and see what happens." She thought of her talk the previous night with Doug and repressed a smirk. "And slamming doors in faces is right out."
"I have never slammed a door. He almost did that to me once." Marie-Ange protested, and then frowned. "I do not suppose you can forget I said that and I can keep pretending that I was not talking about Doug at all?" She chased a piece of egg around her plate with the last of the toast, finally catching it by trapping it against a mushroom, and eating all three in one bite.
"Denial's not just a river in Egypt, or so they tell me," Amanda replied cheerfully. "This hypothetical person... don't be surprised if they do try the hand of friendship thing, yeah?" She finished her juice and leaned back in her chair, pleasantly full. "Things change. Including you."
Marie-Ange ate one last mushroom, because it was there on her plate tempting her, and set down her fork. "I thought I was the precognitive, not you." She said. "Though, I have been summoning little demon imps lately to help with moving things. The ones I used to draw in art class with the dreadlocks and the setting Piotr on fire.."
It was just as well Amanda had finished, or she would have snorted egg. Or toast. Or possibly mushrooms. "Seriously?" she asked, delighted. "The little blue ones?"
"I finally got them to act independently of each other." Marie-Ange said. "I think I gave Wanda a scare when she came to help me take down that wall. They were all over the kitchen handing me tools and removing brackets from doors." She smiled, laughing. "More than a few and I start mixing up my left and my right though."
"That is so brilliant. No wonder you didn't need help." Remembering the tea, Amanda belatedly poured a couple of mugs, the milk and sugar on the table already. "Say, you don't think you can summon a couple for washing up?" she asked innocently.
"I can try, but if they start juggling the cutlery, it is not my fault." Well, technically she supposed, it would be, since they were controlled by her, but sometimes the images just had a mind of their own. "They are really only good for small jobs. Removing nails, fetching things, that sort of thing. I still had to have Wanda come hit the wall with her sledgehammer."
"Sounds like imps all right. Little anarchists, the lot of them." Amanda chuckled. "They sound like George as far as the personality thing goes - he's got a mind of his own these days. At least I know how to turn him off now."
"Maybe George is going through werelight puberty." Marie-Ange affected an entirely horrified face. "The next thing you know, he'll be listening to loud music and hanging around with disreputatable oil lanterns and borrowing your car without asking. "
This time Amanda did snort tea. Coughing and spluttering, she managed to glower at her friend. "You. Are. Evil," she admonished. "With the maniacal laugh and everything."
Eggs, tomatoes, bread, bacon, mushrooms, orange juice... Amanda hummed slightly to herself, a Clash song, as she pulled various breakfast ingredients from the fridge, closing the door with her foot. She was worried about Marie-Ange, yes, especially in light of Doug's visit the night before, but she also had the beginnings of a plan. Plus it had been a while since the two of them had sat down and talked. That prospect was always a cheering one for her. She'd left the door part-open, so the other girl could let herself in, and was in the process of swilling out the teapot when Marie-Ange arrived.
Marie-Ange had a almost-sinking feeling that breakfast was going to involve black pudding. Except she knew better then to think Amanda would torture her quite that much. But she'd heard far too many things about a 'Full English Breakfast' to not worry just a little. She knocked on the door as she pushed it open to announce her arrival, so as not to startle Amanda. "Holidays confuse my schedule. I keep thinking it is Monday." she said, by way of greeting.
"Yeah, I noticed you were having trouble with that," Amanda replied with a grin. "Have a seat - you want some orange juice? Tea'll be a few minutes." She indicated the kitchen table, cleared of random spell books and papers and set with Amanda's mis-matched cutlery and crockery. "I can't remember. How're you with mushrooms?"
"I did it last week too, but without the holiday to blame." Marie-Ange said, sounding amused at herself. "I am just bad with Mondays, I suppose." She sat down in a nearby chair, turning it to face Amanda's kitchen. "Or maybe I am bad with Tuesdays, since I never seem to think Monday is any other day. I just think Tuesday is always Monday. And mushrooms are fine, unless they are those little scary wet ones from the hunan restaurant."
"Nope, not those scary ones, just your good old fried ones." Amanda popped a couple of teabags in the teapot and switched the kettle on, before moving to pour some juice for both of them and then continue slicing up said fungi. "Never trust food that's older that you are, that's what I always say." She glanced at Marie-Ange. "How's the renovating? I didn't realize you were still at it, or I would have offered to help out more."
"I cannot eat anything that looks like an ear. Scary mushrooms, dried apricots, fried pork skins." Marie-Ange said, laughing. "It isn't so much that I am still at it, as I started again. The wall between my kitchen and living room was bothering me, and it was not as if the wall supported anything. So I had Wanda beat it up with a sledgehammer. Which she seemed to enjoy."
"Random destruction? Yeah, that'd be the Boss Lady's thing." Amanda chuckled, pleased to hear her friend laughing. "She was talking about dragging us into the gym for hand to hand training. Well, me, mainly. After getting myarse handed to me by Mark, I need it, I think." Putting butter in one of the two pans on the stove, Amanda turned it on and waited for it to heat before adding several half-tomatoes, sprinkling fresh basil on them. "Still, even with Wanda breaking things, must be a hell of a lot of work on your own."
"Wanda is the only person I know with her own personal sledgehammer." Marie-Ange said. "I would not be surprised if it had a name." She took a long drink of her juice, and set the glass down. "I think Remy has made similar threats, about hand to hand training." She wasn't entirely looking forward to it. "I am not doing it all at once. And, it is.. I am not sure how to explain. It keeps me busy. It is just... a very large hobby. Like people who work on cars, only without the engine oil or grease."
"Or Sofia and her shoes?" Amanda suggested, with a snicker as she added bacon and the mushrooms to the pan and started buttering several slices of bread on both sides. "Well, if it keeps you sane, good for you." She raised her eyebrow at her friend. "Well, as sane as you get, any way," she teased.
"Sofia has more shoes than anyone. I think she had more than Lorna and Alison and I put together." Marie-Ange said, trying to look at what Amanda was cooking without being obvious about it. There was a definite lack of anything scary. No pudding, no sausages the size of a baby's arm. "I am sane." She protested. "For a very ... creative definition of sane that means I can balance my bank account and not wear a tin foil hat and still work for someone who used to spy for the CIA and is probably still a wanted criminal." She paused. "I still feel bad for Sofia. She had to read my entire medical history file from Dr. MacTaggart."
Finishing her buttering, Amanda cut holes in the middle of the bread and then put the slices into the second pan. "That must have kept her going for a while," she replied, chuckling. "Tho' she didn't raise an eyebrow with my whole sordid childhood, so either she's a bigger freak than all of us put together or she's a really hard nut to crack." She paused, trying to think of a way to nudge things towards that reply to Medusa's journal. "How're things generally? Besides renovating and Sofia and work? If there's anything else after that, that is," she asked casually, turning various things with increasing sizzling noises.
"Or she is just posing as unflappable and hides under her bed at night wondering if we are going to kill her in her sleep." Marie-Ange speculated lightly. "Things are... all right, I suppose. I was not quite expecting... " She shrugged. "I got used to being around the entire school, and now it is just the few of us. It is quieter than I expected.."
"Doesn't help half of us haven't been in the country for more than five minutes, it seems," Amanda replied, turning the bread over and reaching for the eggs. "I saw that comment you made in the new girl's journal," she said at last. "Seemed like you were having a... well, a wiggins, as Jubilee would have called it."
"Jubilee watches too much television." Marie-Ange said. "I just.. Sometimes I wonder if I had been less.. well, inclined to say things like "Jubilee watches too much television", if things would not have gone quite the way they did." She shook he head. "And Medusa, and her sister seem so... rigid and proper and somewhat intolerant of people who are not proper all the time."
Cracking eggs and dropping the yolks into the holes in the bread, Amanda considered her friend's words. "It depends," she said at last. "See, I don't think you're intolerant of people who aren't proper - hell, how long have we been friends? But I think maybe sometimes you go with the proper when you aren't comfortable with things, and that can put people off." It was perhaps a good thing she was occupied with cooking, since she probably wouldn't be able to say what she was if she was looking at the other girl.
Marie-Ange gave up on trying to figure out what exactly Amanda was cooking. It smelled good, and so far, nothing she'd seen looked scary. "I was always taught to be polite first, and to make jokes second. But it is a bit more than just that, but this is hard to explain. I certainly gave some people a difficult time. Jubilee, Illyana..." She paused. "Though, Illyana does not count. She is still horrible."
"The secret to dealing with Illyana? Is to be nice to her. Takes the wind right out of her sails." Amanda snickered and flipped over the eggy bread. "And you know, for the most part, I'd much rather you than someone like Lorna - you saw how she ripped into that new girl, with those 'jokes' of hers. At least you don't take out bad moods on the unsuspecting. Well, except when your powers are driving you balmy." The kettle boiled, and she nodded at it. "Can you pour the tea? Hands are a bit full here."
"No, I just take them out on the brightly colored and loud." Marie-Ange argued. And stood to get the tea kettle. Which meant, she realized, she could get a good look at the food. "Or yell at people without good reason just because they are not doing just exactly what I would like them to do." She took the kettle off the stove, and paused, with it still in mid-air. "Amanda... why are there eggs in the middle of that bread?" She asked.
"Eggy in a blanket." Amanda chuckled. "Staple of the fried breakfast - toast and eggs in the one handy package. 'S good, I promise." She bumped Marie-Ange lightly with her hip. "Tea. And then plates. This is ready."
"I am getting tea." Marie-Ange protested, unable to stop herself from laughing. "I was just distracted by the eggs." She dodged around Amanda, avoiding any more potential bumps and poured tea, and then collected the mismatched plates that matched the mismatched cutlery. "So, now I am wondering, where did the middles of the bread go?"
"Where else?" Amanda patted her belly. "Into the Bottomless Pit of course." She carefully slid the eggs (and toast) onto the plates, following with bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. "I left off the black pudding and the kippers - figured you needed feeding since you tend to default to birdseed on your own." As Marie-Ange took the plates to the table, she switched off the stove and brought the teapot over. "Tuck in," she instructed, and then grinned wickedly. "And don't worry about being proper - fry ups tend to discourage manners, especially when the egg dribbles."
"So there is a pudding involved?" Marie-Ange said, relieved that it was nowhere to be found. "I should have expected that you ate the middles." There would be a bored-at-work doodle in that somewhere, she thought. There almost always was. "I eat more than bird seed. I have waffles in my freezer." Of course, generally she toasted the waffle and ate it on the way out of the door.
"Sometimes. Depends on how hungover you are." Amanda sat herself down, reaching for the HP sauce automatically. "Personally I'm not too keen on it - 's too... bloody, I s'pose. And Rack used to love it." She wrinkled her nose at the thought and then shrugged and began eating. "So, this soul-searching of yours... come to any conclusions? Apart from that you're a horrible snob and people do well to hate you?"
"That would be about the whole of it." Marie-Ange said, between a careful bite of toast-and-egg. "The one student, Crystal, and now her sister. Both are so very serious and proper, and seem rather unforgiving of people who enjoy things they do not. And I have to wonder, is that what people saw of me?" She shook her head, staring at her plate, and eating another bite of food.
"Well, that's making a couple of assumptions." Amanda held up her hand and ticked off her fingers. "One, that Crystal and her sister are that way, and two, that you behaved the same as them. I beg t' differ on both counts, for the same reason - none of you hit my snobby bitch buttons." She shrugged. "Maybe I'm in the wrong here, but if it's bothering you that much, maybe try and change? Post on the journals a bit more, talk to people you don't normally, that sort of thing." She grinned wickedly. "You could come on the New York bus run with me one Saturday. If the kids don't make you loosen up, nothing will."
"I do not mean that they are necessarily snobs. Neither grates on my nerves, or reminds me of, say, Monet. They just both seem so reserved and proper.." She took a bite of bacon, biting hard enough to cause the piece to crumble a bit and fall back on to her plate. "Hindsight is far more accurate than foresight, even in my case." She made a mock-horrified face at the idea of the bus trip. "Are they better or worse then we were? No chasing them down out of nightclubs they should not be in?"
"They're a good bunch, actually. No dramas... yet." And here she knocked on the table. "Tho' I had to bail Julio out of a tricky spot with a journo the first week. Considering the shite half of them went through to get here, 's pretty amazing. And there's none of the other shite. Even the ones that feel guilt, they're dealing with it and moving on. 'S a lot less tiring than some folks at the school."
"I could..." Marie-Ange thought for a moment. "I suppose I could leave off destroying any more walls for a weekend. Perhaps spend a weekend building bridges.." Which would help with half the problem. The other half she wasn't even sure how to approach. "Though, repairing any broken ones is much harder."
"That's the tricky part," Amanda agreed. She definitely knew about the repairing broken bridges, given her patchy success at it. She shoved a forkful of eggy toast in her mouth and chewed and swallowed before going on. "It helps, if the other party knows you're open for the bridge building. Make the overture, let them know you're willing to try, and see what happens." She thought of her talk the previous night with Doug and repressed a smirk. "And slamming doors in faces is right out."
"I have never slammed a door. He almost did that to me once." Marie-Ange protested, and then frowned. "I do not suppose you can forget I said that and I can keep pretending that I was not talking about Doug at all?" She chased a piece of egg around her plate with the last of the toast, finally catching it by trapping it against a mushroom, and eating all three in one bite.
"Denial's not just a river in Egypt, or so they tell me," Amanda replied cheerfully. "This hypothetical person... don't be surprised if they do try the hand of friendship thing, yeah?" She finished her juice and leaned back in her chair, pleasantly full. "Things change. Including you."
Marie-Ange ate one last mushroom, because it was there on her plate tempting her, and set down her fork. "I thought I was the precognitive, not you." She said. "Though, I have been summoning little demon imps lately to help with moving things. The ones I used to draw in art class with the dreadlocks and the setting Piotr on fire.."
It was just as well Amanda had finished, or she would have snorted egg. Or toast. Or possibly mushrooms. "Seriously?" she asked, delighted. "The little blue ones?"
"I finally got them to act independently of each other." Marie-Ange said. "I think I gave Wanda a scare when she came to help me take down that wall. They were all over the kitchen handing me tools and removing brackets from doors." She smiled, laughing. "More than a few and I start mixing up my left and my right though."
"That is so brilliant. No wonder you didn't need help." Remembering the tea, Amanda belatedly poured a couple of mugs, the milk and sugar on the table already. "Say, you don't think you can summon a couple for washing up?" she asked innocently.
"I can try, but if they start juggling the cutlery, it is not my fault." Well, technically she supposed, it would be, since they were controlled by her, but sometimes the images just had a mind of their own. "They are really only good for small jobs. Removing nails, fetching things, that sort of thing. I still had to have Wanda come hit the wall with her sledgehammer."
"Sounds like imps all right. Little anarchists, the lot of them." Amanda chuckled. "They sound like George as far as the personality thing goes - he's got a mind of his own these days. At least I know how to turn him off now."
"Maybe George is going through werelight puberty." Marie-Ange affected an entirely horrified face. "The next thing you know, he'll be listening to loud music and hanging around with disreputatable oil lanterns and borrowing your car without asking. "
This time Amanda did snort tea. Coughing and spluttering, she managed to glower at her friend. "You. Are. Evil," she admonished. "With the maniacal laugh and everything."
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Date: 2006-09-05 08:59 pm (UTC)(Good log, you two.)
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Date: 2006-09-05 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 11:16 pm (UTC)Amanda, I knew I thought you were one of the civilized ones for a reason.
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Date: 2006-09-05 11:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 03:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 05:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 11:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 03:44 pm (UTC)(aaaand, that's it for the green girl. She's not allowed to reply anymore. ;))