Not!Manuel runs into Zanne and Amara later on

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Mid-Morning, not!Manuel runs into Zanne in the kitchen. Zanne has issues she'd like to address and Morgan takes it upon herself to apologize on Manuel's behalf.

Morgan was always so much hungrier when she was in a mimic. She generally chalked it up to her body needing more energy to sustain the change, especially when mutation was involved. Every few seconds her hand was fly up and swat at the air as if she could bat away the emotions still leaking through the haphazard wall she'd managed to build up. There were cracks they were seeping through and she kept squinting into the air as if it would allow her to see where those cracks where so she could shove emotional putty at them to fill them up. She couldn't see them, of course, but she did keep getting distracted by the colors. Manuel hadn't warned her about the tet-whatever-he-called-it that caused him to see far more colors than normal people could. At least it was far more than Morgan normally did. Her sandwich was halfway to her mouth, or his mouth as the case may be, when she got distracted by more colors. It was a woman who Morgan had sort of seen and said hi to but whose name she couldn't remember. Her hair was glistening in shakes of black and blue and even purple. Manuel's body was worth staying in just for the colors, even if they did give her a headache. Of course, all poor Zanne would have seen was Manuel standing there slack-jawed and staring at her.

Oh, hell. Zanne's already pounding head began to throb a bit harder as she turned a corner and all but ran into Manuel. She was already having so many day after regrets, not in the least was publicly ripping to Manuel on the journals. Why did she have to confront them all at once?

At least he didn't look like he was about to return the favor, she decided, taking in his preoccupied expression. "Manuel, Hi. Can we talk a minute?"

Manuel who wasn't Manuel shut his mouth first and foremost. Morgan searched her memory for things that linked Manuel and the attractive woman whose name she couldn't currently recall. Well, this is going to be fun. "For a minute?" An eyebrow arched very, very slightly. The expression was more Morgan than Manuel but she thought if he could let go of some of his tension he might have facial expressions some day as well. His Castilian accent, however, was dead on. "Of course. Not to be rude, but would you mind if I ate?" He glanced down to the sandwich in his hands. "I'm in a rather desperate need for nourishment." The words were just formal enough to pass as Manuel's own but the tone held a note of kindness Manuel's normally did not.

"I - Oh." Zanne glanced down at the sandwich. The unexpected response caused her carefully schooled thoughts to messily collide into each other. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were eating. I can come back?"

"It's not necessary for you to depart in the least. I only ask so as to not be rude." A small, polite smile was given to her. A gesture invited her to stay as Morgan put the sandwich down on a paper towel. "It's only a sandwich. While preference may incline me toward more immediate consumption it can certainly wait for a time."

Zanne nodded. Best to get this over with while Manuel was in a good mood. Surprisingly so, all things considered. "I'd like to apologize for my rudeness Sunday regarding your post. It was inappropriate of me to speak to you so over such a public system. I'm sorry if it caused you any problems." While she may not have liked what he'd said, it had been immature of her to behave thusly.

Morgan, or rather Manuel, nodded slowly with a thoughtful look on his face. He might actually kill her for some of this but Morgan took comfort in the fact that she was quicker and more agile than he was. "I am used to much worse than that which you dealt me." She leaned against the counter, the once injured leg bothering her from having to hold up weight for so long. "You caused me no problems I did not inflict upon myself. I am sometimes," his voice trailed off. "How to put this? Too impetuously blunt to be socially appropriate. I'm sorry for having been, to put it plainly, an enormous ass. There are better ways to phrase what I wished to convey and, as was pointed out to me, I brought nothing to the table by way of suggestion."

It was all that Zanne could do to not gape at her companion like a dumbstruck child. While she could not claim to know Manuel as anything more than an acquaintance, she still felt that she knew enough to have said with confidence, if asked, that he was incapable of this level of self depreciation. "Nevertheless," she managed, shoving down her surprise, "It's still no excuse for my actions. I hope to not repeat them in the future."

Having said her piece, Zanne relaxed slightly, the worst hopefully over. There was something oddly calm about Manuel, she decided, which hopefully was to her advantage. Perhaps if she made some sort of peace offering as well... "Have you ever been to The Clark?" she asked.

"As I hope not to repeat my own." His head tilted dipped downward as Morgan quietly added, "Though history has the unfortunate consequence of often repeating itself so hope, I fear, is the best I can do with certainty." Yes, yes, Manuel was going to want to kill her. Hopefully he would see the amusement of having declared himself an ass to someone. Probably not.

Head tilting to the side, confusion flitted over Manuel's face for a moment. "The Clark? No, I don't believe I have."

"We'll both have to work to overcome our flaws then, " Zanne replied with gentle humor, still a bit nonplussed by Manuel's admission of fault. "The Clark is a small museum up in Williamstown. It's a bit of a drive, but it has a fantastic European art collection. They have an exhibition on Renaissance drawings I've been wanting to see, and one on Toulouse-Lautrec starting in the spring. Maybe taking a bit of a break from this place to go see some masterpieces would do us both some good?"

I am so dead. On the one hand he could go with it and maybe make a friend around here. Specifically one who didn't think he was evil incarnate like everyone else seemed to. On the other hand he may try to strangle her. Luckily, Morgan didn't have a problem with having to explain it was her and that the deception was well-intended. She'd deal if he didn't want to take the opportunity. Outwardly, Manuel nodded and gave her a small, restrained smile. Morgan tried to keep it cooler than warmer because Manuel was just not as warm a person as he ought to be. "I do believe you are onto something there. Being outside of the mansion presents...difficulties." For the sake of not having to explain Manuel's lack of powers control she gestured to the leg that held his limp. "But on a good day an excursion would be quite welcome. And likely rather needed."

"Excellent." Zanne clapped her hands together, pleased by the turn of events. Everything did happen for a reason. Glancing at her watch, she sighed. She was going to be late for a training session if she didn't hurry, and Nathan had a sadistic sense of humor when it came to making sure the trainees were on time. Not that she was a trainee any more.

Brightening at the thought, she flashed him a smile and took a few steps backward. "I'll email you later about possible dates. It will be wonderful to be able to go with someone who will appreciate the art. Thank you, Manuel."

And have I mentioned how dead I am yet? I should really be very, very clear on that. Manuel's going to find new and inventive ways to maim me. Manuel-that-wasn't-Manuel inclined his head to her and gave a small smile, the sort Morgan usually gave people which only had one corner of her mouth pulling up into the expression. "I look forward to it." Here was proof that Manuel could have friends if he was just less of an ass. And it wasn't like he didn't know he was an ass in that journal entry. He had more or less admitted as much already.

That wasn't so bad, Zanne nodded at Manuel and headed off toward the locker room. If nothing else, she'd made inroads on repairing that relationship, or non-relationship, as it were. Although who knows, he could turn out to be absolutely fascinating. Casting a quick look over her shoulder at the retreating figure, she felt a silly grin curve over her lips. Today was definitely starting to look like a good day.

Morgan picked up her sandwich as she watched the woman, whose name she would make sure to learn very soon, walk away. Hello hell, here I come. Fancy a sauna? She bit into the sandwich and made a mental note to try to explain to Manuel why this was a good thing before he could mutilate her.

Later in the day, while once again on a search for food, not!Manuel runs into Amara backing cookies. Who knew Manuel could be so charming and such a flirt?

Amara was doing her best to try and avoid all the tension in the mansion right now - it's not that she didn't understand the reason for it, but thus far it wasn't any of her business so keeping out of it seemed like a pretty good idea to her. Out of habit she had retreated to the kitchen, and was now surrounded by the ingredients for cookies. Something she'd made a million times before and could honestly do in her sleep. And the smell of baking cookies couldn't hurt either, right?

Morgan decided she'd have a lot of swimming to do when she dropped this mimic due to all the food she was consuming. By now she was convinced it was all the active powers toying that was causing the need for more fuel. She was getting better at slapping emotional putty over the cracks that allowed the emotions of the mansion's residents to leak in to press against her. Manuel described it differently but for Morgan the emotions pressed in on her gently like the water did when you were under it swimming. You could feel it and it was there, inescapable, but as long as you didn't go too deeply you weren't aware of the pressure it caused.

The limp wasn't as bad for Morgan as it was for Manuel. She wondered if he just favored it more or if she was just willing to push it more. She lacked a cane so that may have contributed as well. In the kitchen she found an incredibly cute, blonde girl. Recognizing her from icons the name Amara popped into her head. The polite nod she gave her was utterly proper with Manuel being the one delivering it. "Good day. Amara, yes?"

Amara glanced up when he entered, and smiled cheerfully over to him. She was pretty sure she recognized the face being the guy from the journals she was talking to yesterday, and she was somewhat determined to be friendly now. The conversation hadn't been exactly antagonistic, but it probably could have been. And Amara honestly didn't like fighting with people. "Hi! And yes, that's me. You're Manuel, aren't you?"

It was so wrong to lie to the girl, really. Morgan knew that. But, really, it was like community service in a way. She could apologize to people on his behalf for Manuel being a totally dick half the time and then be nice to them. He had the capacity to be nice to people, Morgan just had to beat it out of him. It's not like it would be too terribly hard to do that. Well, probably not. She gave Amara a small bow and a smile to match it. "I am. It is my pleasure to meet you more properly." After glancing around the kitchen at the assorted flour, sugar and other bits an eyebrow was raised incrementally. "I'd hate to disturb your kitchen adventures. I'll try to keep my presence brief for you."

Amara will just end up being a little confused when she ends up meeting the real Manuel. The smile deepened at his bow, and she chuckled softly before glancing around the mess she'd started to make. "Meeting people in person is much nicer than just talking to them on the journals. And you're definitely welcome to stay, I don't mind having company while I bake at all." Though he is likely to get co-opted into helping at some point, no point wasting the extra set of hands!

Point one for me for making the girl laugh. Morgan kept the smug smile off Manuel's face and allowed a much more subdued one to grace his features. "I am somewhat useless cooking," she explained, which she was sure was true from what she could recall, "what is it you're baking? Is there an occasion or simply passing fancy?" There was just a little bit more interest in his voice than was called for. But, really, who wouldn't be interested in a cute girl baking? Manuel's vision turned Amara's skin into an array of peaches and golds which was, admittedly, a bit hypnotic to gaze upon.

"Oh, just because," she said, going back to combine the ingredients in a bowl. Cooking in general was something she enjoyed doing, and this kind of baking she could do in her sleep, so chatting to Manuel and mixing up the dough was not likely to be much of a hardship... especially when he was being just a little bit charming. "I like baking," she went on to explain, "and I thought there might be a few people around here who would appreciate some home-made cookies."

God, could she please just shrink Amara down and put her into her pocket? The adorable factor was almost sickeningly sweet. Not that it was a bad thing, necessarily. Note to self: You are not Manuel, she is likely straight and possibly too young for you. Inwardly Morgan sighed, but there was no reason to give up her bit of fun and her exceedingly low level crush. It was the sort of crush that would fade in a month or so but until then would make her smile mischievously and get slightly happy to see the girl. It was an eye candy crush, really, and Amara was certainly that. "They'll be gone in a matter of minutes, if that. Gratitude, while present, however, may be a bit silent in lieu of all the chewing." Head tilting to the side a little, more asked, "Do you often find yourself overcome with the urge to bake for only the sake that others may appreciate it?"

Amara was a particularly friendly girl, and wherever she could, she did her best to be cheerful. She had a habit of wearing her moods on her face for everyone to see, and very frequently anything other than a good mood was accompanied by a struggle to keep her powers in check, which was never a good thing. She would probably be very flustered by Morgan's little crush - but then, she was typically flustered by any interest shown in her, male or female. "Usually? I don't really like just cooking or baking for myself, and I'd probably get fat if I ate everything myself. And good food makes people happy, so..." She shrugged as she trailed off, reaching across the bench to grab the bag of choc chips so she could dump them into the mix.

"So you enjoy bringing other people happiness," she picked up when Amara trailed off. "That's an admirable trait for a person to have." The closer the proximity the louder, so to speak, the emotions that crept through the cracks in her wall seemed to be. Morgan liked the baking girl because she didn't get anything negative from her. It was all light, happy and optimistic. Most people didn't have so much positive they were exuding. It looped back on Morgan a little, causing her to brighten a little and project happiness outward, though it wasn't a strong enough push to drastically change anyone's mood, just enough to put a little more bounce in their step. She wasn't doing it on purpose, though, Morgan was still tinkering with control over Manuel's empathy.

"Pretty much, yes," she said with a grin. "So much can go wrong when people aren't happy," she said, almost to herself, her grin fading briefly for a moment. But honestly, that wasn't a track Amara wanted to go down, and the nudging she was getting from Morgan certainly helped bring her mood back up. She slid her gaze over, a mischievous smile appearing on her face. "And since I refuse to believe that you are completely useless in the kitchen, I am commandeering your hands to help me set these out for baking."

Near immediately a look akin to a trapped animal came onto Manuel's face. Morgan could cook but she couldn't bake worth a damn for the most part. Manuel, however, she was sure had always been cooked for, which meant he really was useless in a kitchen. "Well, I'm not entirely useless. I can...wash dishes?" The last two words came out a bit pained intentionally. After clearing her throat Morgan limped over to the sink to wash her hands first. Once they were dry she limped up beside Amara and looked at the expanse of stuff. "'Commandeer' is such a forceful act from someone who seems so sweet." There was just the tiniest note of both flirtation and playful teasing in Manuel's voice. "I see now that all that sweetness is only a front for your dastardly, baking Nazi plans!"

Amara giggled at that. "Oh, I couldn't possibly make you wash dishes," she said playfully, moving ingredients around so she could lay out some baking trays. As teasing as she sounded, she honestly wouldn't ask for his help cleaning up her mess. And honestly, there was still a part of her that believed that housework wasn't something you asked a man to help you with. "But it's true," she continued with a grin, "I plan to take over the world by making people help me bake. And now that I've told you that," she sighed, "I may have to kill you."

"Will I get a kiss before I die to cushion the blow of my untimely demise?" Morgan gave Amara the most innocent expression possible. It worked well on Manuel's features, but she doubted anyone would ever see it on his own face. Yep, going to hell. He might even compel me to kill myself with his empathy...Jesus. Smiling in a manner more suited to James Bond than Manuel de la Rocha, she bowed his head humbly. "And what would you have of me, mi reina?" I really hope that's the word I'm looking for, it had been a while since Morgan had needed to speak any Spanish and she hadn't been fluent to begin with.

She blushed scarlet at that, momentarily getting flustered and letting the last of the trays clatter down onto the bench. "Well maybe, if you're very good." Still bright red she moved around to grab a couple of tablespoons, handing one over to Manuel with a smile. "Nothing too strenuous, I promise. Just scoop up some dough like this..." She demonstrated, scooping up a small amount of the dough with the spoon and then carefully placing the dough on one of the trays and sliding it off the spoon. "And then putting it on the tray. They should be a couple of inches apart, otherwise you end up with one giant cookie." Which wasn't really a bad thing, but it did mean there was less to share around. And don't think she hadn't noticed that little endearment there, she just... didn't know how to handle flirting in general so she was just going to power through and do her best not to get too flustered.

Blushing girl means another point for me. Morgan took the offered spoon, watching Amara's demonstration closely. "And if I am a saint?" With all that blushing there was no way Morgan was going to stop flirting with the girl. She did scoop up a small amount of dough and slid it off the spoon and onto the tray as shown while she spoke, though. It was all about multitasking. "If I am a saint do I earn a date before my death?" There was a quietness about the way the question was presented. It had nothing to do with volume but more to do with the level of subtle playfulness. It was a question which did not seek to pressure the girl though it very easily could have with a different delivery of the words. Manuel's eyes watched the blonde out of the corner of his eyes as two more small blobs of dough were set down. "Are those too far apart?" Morgan wanted to give the young woman an opportunity to dodge the question if she needed to.

"Oh, well." Amara was still blushing, busying herself with laying out blobs of dough onto another tray. While usually people would roll the dough into balls before setting them out for baking, Amara was fond of the rough shapes made when you didn't roll them. "Maybe if you're very good," she replied, with a fairly embarrassed smile on her face. She leaned over to glance at what he'd done, and nodded. "That looks great! And here you thought you were useless in the kitchen. I may just have to commandeer your hands again sometime."

There was no way Morgan was going to manage to not smile at that response. Manuel's persona be damned, it needed some improvement and the sly, slightly victorious smile suited it better than his usual stoic gloom did. At least, from the inside of his eyelids she was pretty sure it did. She could picture him pretty vividly in her mind and she was sure he'd be much, much more attractive if he ever actually smiled. Even the tiny one she'd gotten out of him while picking up his mimic was an improvement. "Mi reina, you may commandeer...my hands at any time they may be useful to you." Morgan did not break from her methodical scooping and placing of dough on trays lest her hands wander. Not in an inappropriate way but small, flirty, affectionate brushes of hands was definitely outside the realm of Manuel, she was sure.

Amara would be amongst the first to say a smile certainly did suit him, it took her a few moments to drag her gaze away from Manuel's face so she could actually pay attention to the tray she was laying out. It was actually almost full, so she should probably start loading these two trays into the oven. "I may have to hold you to that," she said with a shy smile, scooping up one last bit of dough to finish off the tray. "Christmas is coming, after all, and of course I'll be doing a lot of baking." She shot him a playful look at that - she knew perfectly well what he meant by that comment, and yes, she was 'ignoring' it on purpose.

Morgan made a mental note of Amara's lingering gaze. Why she was so pleased when it didn't benefit her personally was something to think about later. She was having too much fun signing Manuel up for baking slavery in the coming weeks and getting him a new friend, though that word likely should have been said with some insinuating tone of voice. Maybe that was just because of her own flirtations. "Of course, señorita, I would expect no less." Add a few more decades to my purgatory dwelling for deception today, Morgan thought happily as she filled the remaining space of the tray she'd been working on with misshapen globs of dough.

"Great!" She grinned once more, picking up her tray and sidling over to grab his as well. "Baking is always a lot more fun when there are other people helping out. And you never know, you might even get good at it." She nudged him playfully before moving around to the oven, carefully balancing the trays on one arm as she opened it up and slid the two trays in. "Now they shouldn't take long. And hopefully the smell won't attract people before you get the chance to sample our wares." The smell of cookies baking did tend to end up being a magnet for hungry people.

"Me? Good? Baking?" There was a look of utter disbelief on Manuel's face. The sentiment was true for Morgan as well as her mimic. "Placing dough on a tray isn't exactly the same thing as baking. I've burnt cookies to a crisp. You're familiar with the dough in a tube where all you have to do is slice them into cookie thickness, place on a tray and put in the oven, yes?" Morgan paused for a moment, a look of genuine shame coming onto her face for a moment. "I was scraping blackened cookie off the tray for nearly thirty minutes." She was sure any attempt of Manuel's to bake would have involved something catching on fire and probably burning down, actually.

Amara just snorted at the concept of dough in a tube. What sort of nonsense was that? "One step at a time," she said loftily, closing the oven door before turning back to Manuel. "Really, it's all a matter of practice. And a good teacher." She smiled. "And you've already mastered one of the most important jobs. So you're on your way." She glanced into the bowl, looking thoughtful for a moment. "There's probably not really enough dough left for another tray. I think we may just have to eat the rest ourselves." What a devastating thought.

The look she got was all de la Rocha. Manuel looked almost offended. "Eat the dough? Isn't the entire point of cookie dough to create cookies? You're going to eat the cookie embryos?" She should have thought of a better word but it was all Morgan could manage that would give way to little cookies. It made the whole process seem so cannibalistic. Morgan suppressed a great deal of giggling at herself, but it cost her a lot of will power. She diverted the energy to gazing warily at the dough.

Amara will just have to do the giggling for her. Which she did. "You've never eaten cookie dough?" She said with a broad smile. "Oh my, you have no idea what you're missing out on." She scooped a bit of cookie dough out of the bowl, holding it out for him to take. "Seriously, cookie dough is almost as great as the cookies themselves. I have been known, on occasion, to make cookie dough for the express purpose of eating it rather than baking it." It was the ultimate comfort food! Though it could potentially give you a stomach ache if you ate too much of it. Or at least it did for Amara.

Morgan eyed it warily. She had no problems with cookie dough, but she had difficulty imagining Manuel being gung ho about it. It just seemed a bit too, well, girlie for him. "You cheat horribly, you know." She leaned forward and her eyes locked with Amara's. "No one could refuse anything offered by someone so beautiful." His mouth then opened and Manuel's lips closed around the spoon to pull the dough off of it. Morgan had fed plenty of men things to not worry about the motion seeming too feminine. As she chewed his lips curled up into a smile. "I admit defeat. You may be on to something with this dough of yours." Morgan even inclined her head as Manuel conceded the battle to Amara.

Amara rewarded him with a bright smile at that, and with another slight blush at the compliment. "I think you might just have to get used to me being right," she said a little smugly, offering him the spoon. "Here. You have some more while I clean up. It won't kill you, I promise." Amara didn't typically make too much of a mess when she baked, but she still had ingredients to put away and a few dishes to wash. It shouldn't take her too long, and by the time she was done - the cookies should be ready.

Morgan took the spoon with a slight smirk on her lips. Another point for another blush, she thought as she scooped out some more dough and eyed it again. "I don't know about that. You must be wrong some of the time. It's impossible for you to always be right. And when you're not," a finger was wagged in her direction, "I'll be there to take note of it and then bring it up whenever you get too smug about this rightness of yours." Manuel-who-was-Morgan sat down with the bowl of dough and the spoon while Amara commenced the clean up. Manuel, Morgan was sure, would not have offered to help clean up so she didn't either even though her own impulse was to at least offer if not to order Amara seated while she washed dishes. It was only fair the person cooking, or baking in this case, not do all the clean up work as well but not everyone had that mindset. Since she was trying not to go too far off course with Manuel's actual personality she stuck to it with an inward sigh.

"I didn't say I was right all the time," she said with a laugh. "It just... happens to happen rather frequently. At least in the kitchen." She smiled sweetly before starting to move the ingredients she didn't use back into the pantry. Amara's ego wasn't so huge that she thought she was always right, but she did know she was good when it came to cooking. "You know, I was just about to compliment you on how good you were being, but I'm not so sure about that now." She turned to give him a bit of a look, a little smirk playing at her lips.

An immediate look of being scolded cross onto Manuel's features. "What did I do?" She was totally messing with him, Morgan was sure of it. Still, she fell into the the role she was meant to fill in such a situation. "I was merely offering to make sure you never turned into an insufferable egoist such as myself," Manuel told her with a pleading note in his voice. "I was full of good intentions, I swear!" Morgan even put down the bowl of dough and the spoon and crossed her heart.

She was messing with him, totally, and his reaction was more than amusing. She laughed, heading back over to see how he was going with that cookie dough. "I do not think you are as insufferable as you think," she said, leaning over to pinch a bit of the dough and popping it into her mouth. "You have been very nice so far. I think that perhaps you just don't want people to think you are. Protecting that ever important reputation perhaps?" ... Amara was going to be in a whole lot of trouble when she met the real Manuel now, wasn't she?

It was likely only Morgan who was in trouble with the real Manuel. Though it was possibly a car crash waiting to happen when Amara finally did manage to run into reclusive, grumpy and really fucking angry Spaniard. Morgan thought she made a much better Manuel than Manuel did, but he wasn't likely to agree. "I earned that reputation," Manuel told her. "I deserve every bit of it. That does not mean I continue to be the person who earned it, but that also does not change things I have done." Maybe it was more honest than the actual person would have been with her, but Morgan wasn't much about pussyfooting around a topic and thought most people would be better served if they ceased such trends themselves. "Perhaps I am capable of redemption. Perhaps not." That was added mostly because Morgan had doubts Manuel would take the opportunities she was handing him.

That certainly was going to be interesting. Amara paused in her fussing around, looking serious for a moment as she studied Manuel's face. She had only just met him, but she did think they'd gotten to know each other a little well over the course of the cookie baking. "I think you might be," she said quietly, with a soft smile. "If you wanted to be." That really was the important part, wasn't it? She went back to her cleaning up, carrying the dishes she'd used over to the sink so she could start working on the washing up.

Morgan nodded just a little. She agreed, actually. Amara may not have met the real Manuel yet, but Morgan shared her thoughts on his redemption. If he wanted it, he could have it. She didn't know why she had faith in the guy, or why she was fond of him other than to think she had a twisted attraction to fucked up, gloomy things. Not usually her style, but everyone needed a pet project, right? Morgan thought about whether or not Manuel wanted redemption, falling silent as she did. He reached for anger first, that fact would never leave her. In order to shield her from everyone's emotions he wrapped them in anger. She wondered where it came from, why it was there, and why it was the strongest thing he had to fight with, to defend himself with. Maybe it was all that living with Laurie, but Morgan was inclined to believe anger made you weaker, not stronger.