xp_logs | Rahne, Shinobi, baking, and the ever-present oatmeal

Detractors of Xavier's school will point out numerous flaws, but it also has a multitude of virtues.

Being a good place to bake a souffle is not one of the latter. (On the other hand, it doesn't seem to be something that's been brought up in the former category, either. Possibly the detractors have not tried to do much cooking there.)

Rahne has been standing at the sink trying to clean up the remains of a fallen one; she glances back toward the oven, where a pan of the Christmas cookies she decided would be safer in the meantime are baking, and abandons the sink with a soft yelp of irritation to rescue them hurriedly.

It was not his ideal way of starting a morning. Emma's little announcement of Shaw Industries' latest contract acquisition had put Shinobi in a rather dour mood - Jono's usual good cheer hadn't exactly helped much - and while normally, his first inclination would be to go find somewhere to brood, he needed food. Hair still mussed from sleep, Shinobi's head peeks around the doorway into the kitchen, one eyebrow arching slightly at the yelp. "Um," he voices, almost timidly. "You alright over there?"

"Aye -- just a minute --" Rahne would probably have jumped if she hadn't been so focused on getting the oven door open, her hands protected, and the baking sheet _out_ of the heat and set down to cool. She frowns at it as she closes the oven again, then turns to see who spoke. "Oh. Shinobi?" Well, yes, she might not have seen him all that much in person, but unless they've just acquired a double, who else would it be? "Sorry about that." She waves at the pan. "I'd left them too long already. But thank you."

Bobbing his head in confirmation, Shinobi offers a tired smile, straightening up so that he can step into the kitchen with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Nothing to apologize for.. Rahne, right?" He pauses, flinching slightly. "I hope I pronounced that right."

"'Twas fine. I suppose if ye really want there's trying to roll the R, but I wouldna say to bother."

"My brogue needs a lot of work," Shinobi muses with a self-depricating smile, shrugging helplessly as his eyes wanders towards what Rahne'd pulled out of the oven. "What're you cooking?"

"Christmas biscuits... I was trying a souffle, but someone jumped down half the stairs or some such. That's in the sink now." She smiles ruefully and goes to prepare another pan. "You're welcome to those once they cool a bit if ye donnae mind them being a bit overdone."

"Biscuits are biscuits," Shinobi replies wisely, eyeing the tray for a moment before hunting himself down a place to sit to wait for them to cool, eventually settling for a clear bit of counterspace. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Were ye looking for breakfast? I've not ruined oatmeal since I got the kitchens here worked out."

He nods, briefly seeming just a little stunned over something before quickly wiping the expression from his face, replacing it with a slight smile. "I was, yes.. you really don't have to trouble yourself on my account, though."

"I donnae mind --" She grins suddenly. "See, ye missed when I got established as the oatmeal girl, 'twas about when I first got here."

"Well, far be it for me to go against established tradition," Shinobi chuckles, cracking a grin of his own. "If you really want to, and don't have more biscuits to keep an eye on, knock yourself out."

"I can tell you to watch the oven," she suggests, "though I think I will slip these in first.... I had set a timer, but they needed a bit more after that." A wry smile. "I really ought to be able to manage these well enough; some of the other recipes, well...."

Nodding sympathetically, Shinobi grins, one hand lifting to rub at the back of his head. "I can't even do toast reliably, if it's any consolation."

"Lorna was giving me lessons. She'd probably have something very fancy and complicated planned if she could...." Rahne shrugs a bit. "I'm trying a few of the harder ones, but they'll not be quite the results she'd have."

"I'm sure she'll be pleased to hear you've been making an effort," Shinobi offers, casting a brief glance off in the vague direction of the medlab.

"So long as she doesna mind." With the second batch of cookies in and the timer set, she's working (rapidly) on oatmeal. "Anything in particular ye want, or want *not* used?"

"I doubt she'll mind." Quietly shaking himself, Shinobi looks back towards Rahne again, blinking once. "Oh.. no, I'm not feeling all that picky right now. If it's edible, I'm happy."

Rahne glances at him and decides that while plain oatmeal porridge can be quite nice, he looks a little tired or a little down, and since she did get a chance to check journals earlier a possible reason finally occurs to her. Which means that his answer will, once all is said and done (if briefly interrupted by a somewhat better-timed cookie retrieval), get him a bowl of something that is as much fruit, cinnamon, and honey as it is oatmeal.

Shinobi seems perfectly content to wait as long as he needs to for the food, though he is quietly grateful that Rahne seems to be hurrying, just a little. When the bowl is finally presented, he peers down at it for a moment before allowing himself a slightly amused grin, glancing to Rahne as he reaches out to take it. "Thanks. It looks perfect."

"Ye looked like maybe ye could use the flavor."

"Can't argue with that," Shinobi sighs, smiling a touch wryly. "That obvious, huh?"

"Well, you're either not quite awake or a bit distracted or both, and I did check the journal system a bit earlier." She bites her lip; there wasn't anything she could think of to say there, and she isn't doing much better here. Though at least he doesn't seem to be offended she brought it up at all.

"Bit of all of the above," Shinobi confirms, looking just a touch guilty before quickly looking down to his oatmeal, gathering up a spoonful to eat almost as an afterthought.

"I can even see why they think they need something like that," Rahne muses. "I've heard... a little of what they did trying to keep Magneto, and even that didna work. But 'tis still... disturbing." She glances sideways at him while clearing the overcooked pan to use again.

"It is necessary.. thinking otherwise would just be naive." Slowly shaking his head, Shinobi absently pushes a piece of fruit around the bowl of oatmeal, doing his very best not to scowl. "That it's being built isn't the problem.. it's who's building it, who'll be in control of it. As far as they're concerned, we should *all* be in there."

"That'd be the disturbing part."

"He's my father, and I'm just so bloody helpless to stop him." The scowl breaks free, but Shinobi's quick to try and wrestle his anger and frustration back into their little box, tightly closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Rahne turns away from the half-filled baking sheet and frowns a little before hesitantly offering, "That's hardly your fault, now...."

"No, no, I could do more," he insists, keeping his face turned down towards his lap. "There has to be *something* I could have done, could do *now*.. he's not infallible." Given how desperate and plaintive Shinobi's beginning to sound, though, he probably isn't entirely convinced on that last point.

"Well I'd think not, but I canna think what ye'd have done about it if this is the first ye heard."

"Could've been more informed," Shinobi shrugs, lifting one hand to rub at his face. "Broke into his bloody files, or.. something."

"Sounds like Kitty's solutions...."

"Well, she's a smart girl. Maybe it'd work." With a tired sigh, Shinobi lets his hand fall back to his side, reluctantly looking up enough to offer Rahne an apologetic smile. "...sorry. You don't need to listen to me blathering on like this. You don't even know me."

"Not so well, but ye do live here now, aye? 'Tis all right with me if ye talk."

"I suppose I do.. haven't kicked me out yet, anyway." He smiles slightly.

"Doesna seem likely." She blinks. "And I meant 'twas fine with me if ye talk either way, and that I suppose with ye here we'll get to know each other, not to be quiet else."

"Guess I'm just not used to having anybody around who's willing to listen. I'll get used to it eventually, I think." Shinobi offers a little grin.

"...That sounds like it's been lonely."

"It has." With a slight shrug, he looks to his food again. "Got used to it after a while, though."

"...Oh."

"... I'm sorry. I'm depressing you, and that's hardly a fit state in which to make biscuits."

"The biscuits willna be suffering for it as long as I remember what I'm doing, and ye really don't have to keep apologizing. ...I might not know what to say, that doesna mean I mind listening."

"I'd apologize for apologizing so much, but I imagine that would rather defeat the point." Shinobi grins a little, looking down and taking a moment to concentrate on getting a bit more food into himself.

"That it would." Rahne busies herself with getting more of the baking tasks taken care of, then eyes the oven suspiciously and attacks the sodden remnants of the souffle again.