Log: Dani & Cammie
Mar. 14th, 2009 12:05 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsSaturday, Dani meets Cammie and her unusual palate for foods. They discuss powers, survival and food. Like all meetings with Dani, things are a little strange.
Sitting in the kitchen, Dani had a local newspaper open and pages for the classified were everywhere. She was clutching a red marker and there were circles and X's all over the black and white pages. The automotive section had the most circle's, the jobs had the most X's. Slowly, she was trying to pull her life together and while she wasn't entirely sure what came first in doing that, she had dove in to the middle and was working her way backwards to the beginning and fowards to the end at the same time. It was working surprisingly well, though she had nothing to show for her efforts yet.
Kurt’s kitchen didn’t have everything she needed. Or wanted. She had a special section set aside for her in the fridge since she preferred her food a special kind of done. She hadn’t seen the girl in the kitchen before, but hunger right now overrode caution and the fact that she really didn’t want to be around anyone other than a select few individuals as she made her way to the fridge in search of her special food components. As it would be a bit before she had the guts to ask Jean-Paul to cook for her again.
“Hey,” was all she said in way of greeting.
"Hey," Dani replied, looking up when she didn't recognize the voice. Looking up didn't help, she didn't recognize the face either. There had been a lot of changes while she was away and she hadn't done much to reconnect with anyone either. "You're new," she stated, capping her marker.
“Yeah,” she said. “You’re observant,” she returned, taking things from the fridge and putting them on the counter. Some of the stuff smelled horrible, well, it would to other people. To her it smelled good. She went in search of the bread. “I am new.”
"That's not any good," Dani said, noticing the food the girl had selected. Normally things that were bad were culled from the kitchen quickly, how this had managed to stay was a mystery, but still. She shouldn't eat it, it would make her sick, "It's gone bad. If you want something, I can make it if you want."
“I know it’s not any good,” Cammie said, “I’m the one who labeled it to let it go ripe. I can’t taste stuff otherwise,” she said simply, with a shrug.
"Ah," Dani nodded, "It don't make you sick?" she asked, Because taste or not, being sick was bad. Well, obviously it didn't or she wouldn't eat it. "I'm Dani, by the way."
“Nope. Perfectly healthy for me. Of course, I could drink a gallon of cyanide and come out the other side kicking so a little ripened meat doesn’t do anything,” Cammie said, making herself one of her sandwiches. “I’m Cammie. Nice to meet you and all that junk.”
That was interesting. And did not explain her fears at all, though maybe it tied into the fear of killing people. That one was boring, almost everyone had that one here, given the various mutations. "You too," Dani replied, "I do a lot of cooking around here. Not all, ain't been here for a while, but guess you won't like it then. Don't know how to ruin frybread."
“Jean-Paul has been experimenting with stuff for me,” Cammie said. “And I’ll eat anything, I just can’t taste most stuff,” she said with a shrug. It was nice, to have someone be cooking for her. She wasn’t quiet used to it yet.
"I been cooking since I was little. Ain't a gourmet or anything, but I can do a few things," Dani had more of a home cooking sort of style, though she could follow recipes for other things, "If you want help or if JP does, I can try. Idea of using moldy food don't sit right...but if it ain't gonna hurt you, why not?" She offered, she had lots of time on her hands now, no work, no school. That's why she was there with the paper looking at want ads.
“The riper the better,” Cammie laughed, “And yeah, I’ll tell you what I told him, knock yourself out. The only thing I know how to make is sandwiches and that gets old real fast.”
"Cooking ain't that hard," Dani replied, circling an ad in the paper. Right now, she wasn't sure if her lack of education and experience was a benefit to getting a job or not. "if you can follow directions. Though I guess there ain't too many for rotten foods."
“That’s just it, reading how to do something from a book bores the snot out of me. Even more so when I know I won’t be able to taste most of what I make,” Cammie said, taking a big bite off of her rotted food sandwich. It was good, to her, anyway.
"That a good point," she acknowledged. Not being able to taste if she was cooking something right would be a problem, "That your power then? Stomach of steel?"
“Yep. That’s a part of it,” Cammie said, rolling her eyes a bit. What was it with people and the powers inquiry in this place? Well, at least she had a steady supply of food. It beat running by that much. “The other part is the touch of death, left hand only,” she said, with way too much joy.
Dani put the paper down and looked at Cammie closely, though really, it looked more like she was looking through her. Face going slack, Dani automatically began looking through her fears in more detail, Oh, there is was. Death. Not of her own, but other others. Tasty. Standing up to her full height, Dani offered her right hand, "Fear."
“Ah, neat,” Cammie said, taking right hand with right hand. Outside of Lil, she doubted she’d ever be casually touchy with her left. This girl had some height on her, but not as bad as some of the other people here. “Bet that’s good at clearing a room.”
"It has it's...not uses, but moments," Dani allowed. When she made someone relive their fears in graphic, gory detail, it was not a pleasant experience for them, "Gives everything an interesting tint." That was one way to put it anyways.
“Yeah, I bet,” Cammie returned. She wasn’t going to ask if Dani could tell anything about any of hers. There was no morbid curiosity there. “So I’m assuming that’s everyone else’s fear and not your own.”
"I don't have any fears," Dani lied blithely through her teeth, "Ain't like most people. Fears normal, everyone has them. And I see them all, so ain't nothing scary to me," nothing like death or ghosts or demons, nothing people could see scared her. Clowns didn't bother her. Her own fears were much more intangible than that.
“Sure,” Cammie said. Everyone was afraid of something, “Can’t say I’d want that. Fear keeps you alive. Or adrenaline rushes. If it’s the later, I’m screwed because I don’t get those.”
"Fear can do that...it can also paralyze and kill," Dani pointed out, sitting back down with the newspaper, "Depends a lot on the person and the fear. You don't get adrenaline rushes? What do you get instead?" Dani didn't know much more than high school biology, but she at least knew that.
“Well, I don’t think I get them. Every time I’ve been in a situation that’s supposed to get those pumping,” and that included drug use, but she didn’t bring that up, “nothing’s happened. I just stay stupidly clam and clear headed. It’s… well, image a world where nothing chemical can even touch you.” She could still get happy, sad, and angry because there was more to emotion than a spoonful of chemicals. But no maniac highs, no depressive lows. On the other hand, when she thought about it, the eerie calm in situations that should’ve had her running on some sort of high had saved her before.
"Sounds like it ain't that bad to me," Dani replied, thinking of the alcoholics and people who abused other substances. They had been popular on the rez with a lot of people. "Can't chase problems away with alcohol or nothin'. Gotta deal with 'em."
“Yeah, and that’s the fun part. Dealing with them,” there was sarcasm dripping from her voice.
It wasn't like Dani didn't have her own problems that she had to deal with, for better or worse, "Better to move on than to ignore them," she replied, though it wasn't the easiest thing to do. "Ain't easy or fun, but it beats the alternatives."
“If you say so,” Cammie said, now grinning brightly. Her mask against the world as it were.
Raising an eyebrow at Cammie's faux cheeriness, Dani relied, "You can't fool me, girlie. I see your fears, remember? I don't know exactly what wringer life put you through, but I know it ain't easy. And you'd be surprised what people can survive," she paused and considered her life briefly, "Especially with people around them."
Except when those people died. No one had yet, but there had been a close call in there, “Yeah. I hear you,” she started out of the kitchen. “Surviving isn’t easy or anything like that.”
"Neither is living. Surviving is one thing, living is another," Dani said as Cammie left, "Enjoy your sandwich!" she called, going back to trying to find a job.
Sitting in the kitchen, Dani had a local newspaper open and pages for the classified were everywhere. She was clutching a red marker and there were circles and X's all over the black and white pages. The automotive section had the most circle's, the jobs had the most X's. Slowly, she was trying to pull her life together and while she wasn't entirely sure what came first in doing that, she had dove in to the middle and was working her way backwards to the beginning and fowards to the end at the same time. It was working surprisingly well, though she had nothing to show for her efforts yet.
Kurt’s kitchen didn’t have everything she needed. Or wanted. She had a special section set aside for her in the fridge since she preferred her food a special kind of done. She hadn’t seen the girl in the kitchen before, but hunger right now overrode caution and the fact that she really didn’t want to be around anyone other than a select few individuals as she made her way to the fridge in search of her special food components. As it would be a bit before she had the guts to ask Jean-Paul to cook for her again.
“Hey,” was all she said in way of greeting.
"Hey," Dani replied, looking up when she didn't recognize the voice. Looking up didn't help, she didn't recognize the face either. There had been a lot of changes while she was away and she hadn't done much to reconnect with anyone either. "You're new," she stated, capping her marker.
“Yeah,” she said. “You’re observant,” she returned, taking things from the fridge and putting them on the counter. Some of the stuff smelled horrible, well, it would to other people. To her it smelled good. She went in search of the bread. “I am new.”
"That's not any good," Dani said, noticing the food the girl had selected. Normally things that were bad were culled from the kitchen quickly, how this had managed to stay was a mystery, but still. She shouldn't eat it, it would make her sick, "It's gone bad. If you want something, I can make it if you want."
“I know it’s not any good,” Cammie said, “I’m the one who labeled it to let it go ripe. I can’t taste stuff otherwise,” she said simply, with a shrug.
"Ah," Dani nodded, "It don't make you sick?" she asked, Because taste or not, being sick was bad. Well, obviously it didn't or she wouldn't eat it. "I'm Dani, by the way."
“Nope. Perfectly healthy for me. Of course, I could drink a gallon of cyanide and come out the other side kicking so a little ripened meat doesn’t do anything,” Cammie said, making herself one of her sandwiches. “I’m Cammie. Nice to meet you and all that junk.”
That was interesting. And did not explain her fears at all, though maybe it tied into the fear of killing people. That one was boring, almost everyone had that one here, given the various mutations. "You too," Dani replied, "I do a lot of cooking around here. Not all, ain't been here for a while, but guess you won't like it then. Don't know how to ruin frybread."
“Jean-Paul has been experimenting with stuff for me,” Cammie said. “And I’ll eat anything, I just can’t taste most stuff,” she said with a shrug. It was nice, to have someone be cooking for her. She wasn’t quiet used to it yet.
"I been cooking since I was little. Ain't a gourmet or anything, but I can do a few things," Dani had more of a home cooking sort of style, though she could follow recipes for other things, "If you want help or if JP does, I can try. Idea of using moldy food don't sit right...but if it ain't gonna hurt you, why not?" She offered, she had lots of time on her hands now, no work, no school. That's why she was there with the paper looking at want ads.
“The riper the better,” Cammie laughed, “And yeah, I’ll tell you what I told him, knock yourself out. The only thing I know how to make is sandwiches and that gets old real fast.”
"Cooking ain't that hard," Dani replied, circling an ad in the paper. Right now, she wasn't sure if her lack of education and experience was a benefit to getting a job or not. "if you can follow directions. Though I guess there ain't too many for rotten foods."
“That’s just it, reading how to do something from a book bores the snot out of me. Even more so when I know I won’t be able to taste most of what I make,” Cammie said, taking a big bite off of her rotted food sandwich. It was good, to her, anyway.
"That a good point," she acknowledged. Not being able to taste if she was cooking something right would be a problem, "That your power then? Stomach of steel?"
“Yep. That’s a part of it,” Cammie said, rolling her eyes a bit. What was it with people and the powers inquiry in this place? Well, at least she had a steady supply of food. It beat running by that much. “The other part is the touch of death, left hand only,” she said, with way too much joy.
Dani put the paper down and looked at Cammie closely, though really, it looked more like she was looking through her. Face going slack, Dani automatically began looking through her fears in more detail, Oh, there is was. Death. Not of her own, but other others. Tasty. Standing up to her full height, Dani offered her right hand, "Fear."
“Ah, neat,” Cammie said, taking right hand with right hand. Outside of Lil, she doubted she’d ever be casually touchy with her left. This girl had some height on her, but not as bad as some of the other people here. “Bet that’s good at clearing a room.”
"It has it's...not uses, but moments," Dani allowed. When she made someone relive their fears in graphic, gory detail, it was not a pleasant experience for them, "Gives everything an interesting tint." That was one way to put it anyways.
“Yeah, I bet,” Cammie returned. She wasn’t going to ask if Dani could tell anything about any of hers. There was no morbid curiosity there. “So I’m assuming that’s everyone else’s fear and not your own.”
"I don't have any fears," Dani lied blithely through her teeth, "Ain't like most people. Fears normal, everyone has them. And I see them all, so ain't nothing scary to me," nothing like death or ghosts or demons, nothing people could see scared her. Clowns didn't bother her. Her own fears were much more intangible than that.
“Sure,” Cammie said. Everyone was afraid of something, “Can’t say I’d want that. Fear keeps you alive. Or adrenaline rushes. If it’s the later, I’m screwed because I don’t get those.”
"Fear can do that...it can also paralyze and kill," Dani pointed out, sitting back down with the newspaper, "Depends a lot on the person and the fear. You don't get adrenaline rushes? What do you get instead?" Dani didn't know much more than high school biology, but she at least knew that.
“Well, I don’t think I get them. Every time I’ve been in a situation that’s supposed to get those pumping,” and that included drug use, but she didn’t bring that up, “nothing’s happened. I just stay stupidly clam and clear headed. It’s… well, image a world where nothing chemical can even touch you.” She could still get happy, sad, and angry because there was more to emotion than a spoonful of chemicals. But no maniac highs, no depressive lows. On the other hand, when she thought about it, the eerie calm in situations that should’ve had her running on some sort of high had saved her before.
"Sounds like it ain't that bad to me," Dani replied, thinking of the alcoholics and people who abused other substances. They had been popular on the rez with a lot of people. "Can't chase problems away with alcohol or nothin'. Gotta deal with 'em."
“Yeah, and that’s the fun part. Dealing with them,” there was sarcasm dripping from her voice.
It wasn't like Dani didn't have her own problems that she had to deal with, for better or worse, "Better to move on than to ignore them," she replied, though it wasn't the easiest thing to do. "Ain't easy or fun, but it beats the alternatives."
“If you say so,” Cammie said, now grinning brightly. Her mask against the world as it were.
Raising an eyebrow at Cammie's faux cheeriness, Dani relied, "You can't fool me, girlie. I see your fears, remember? I don't know exactly what wringer life put you through, but I know it ain't easy. And you'd be surprised what people can survive," she paused and considered her life briefly, "Especially with people around them."
Except when those people died. No one had yet, but there had been a close call in there, “Yeah. I hear you,” she started out of the kitchen. “Surviving isn’t easy or anything like that.”
"Neither is living. Surviving is one thing, living is another," Dani said as Cammie left, "Enjoy your sandwich!" she called, going back to trying to find a job.
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