Callie heads to the kitchen for a post-play snack and runs into Johnny, who seems to have similar aims in mind.
His classmates' performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream had been many things, but short was not one of them and Johnny's empty stomach led him toward the kitchen almost as soon as they'd returned. Unfortunately, where everything in the massive kitchen was located was still something of a mystery, leaving him with little choice but to search the large pantry with the aid of a stool that just barely made him tall enough to see all of the shelves. Occupied with his foraging, the white-haired mutant didn't hear the footsteps entering the kitchen some distance behind him.
Being too nervous to eat much before the play, Callie was now ravenous. Thankfully the mansion had a very well stocked kitchen, so she would not have to do without. And it seemed that she wasn't the only resident who had the same idea. That was unsurprising really. After all, everyone needed food. "Hey there," she said, hoping not to startle the boy. "Find anything good?"
She did startle him, but fortunately the boy wasn't tall enough to knock his head against the doorframe when he jumped slightly at the sudden voice or clumsy enough to lose his footing when he turned upon his perch to look down at her. Recognizing Callie both from the journals and from the show, Johnny smiled, "Thespians have to eat too, huh? ...Not yet. A lot of ingredients, but not as much for the cooking impaired. I don't even know what half this stuff is."
"I'm not much of a thespian," Callie said as she ventured further into the kitchen. "But yeah. What are you hungry for? I'm not the best cook, but my Nonna worked to make me at least kitchen literate over Christmas. I'm sure we could cook up something. Or look through the heaps of leftovers."
Johnny, still smiling, hopped down from the stool to step out of the pantry, "Come on, don't sell yourself short. Flaminia Fegarotti's got nothing on you." He stole one last glance back into the space, then looked to the taller girl again, "...We have leftovers?"
That elicited a giggle from the pink girl. "Thanks Johnny," she said with a smile. She knew she wasn't an actor, and that was okay; she had her academics. "Of course there's leftovers. There are always leftovers. Some are even communal." She gestured toward the refrigerator. "Shall we?"
The white-haired boy bobbed his head easily, saying no more on the subject and following her gesture to the fridge. Communal leftovers sounded like a godsend right about now. Johnny pulled open the large door with a playful declaration, "Well, now my curiosity is piqued. I think we have to."
"Anything good in there," she asked from over his shoulder. "Oh hey there's one slice of pie left. I'm surprised there's any left."
The teen perked up despite himself. Pie didn't have much value nutritionally speaking and it was far from a proper dinner, or any sort of meal for that matter...but that did not make it sound any less appealing. He put on a mischievous smile and glanced over his shoulder to meet her gaze, "I say we go halves on the pie and worry about the other stuff if we're still hungry. What do you think?"
While Callie was of the notion that pie could be a meal when paired with the appropriate accoutrement (it did after all contain fruit, carbs, and if you added cheese there would be dairy) she was going to resist the temptation. Easter was less than two weeks away, she could hold out until then. "No you go on and have it. I made it on Sunday. It should still be good. Jay and Jane said it was delicious."
This seemed to perplex the teen who, mid-grab for the covered plate, turned back to her again. It seemed odd to him, especially since she was the chef but was only capable of giving second-hand accounts as to the quality of her own creation. Not that the quality was really in question; it looked as good as she said. He didn't push the matter, instead joking easily, "What, faeries don't eat pie?"
Callie laughed as she reached for some bread to make a sandwich with. "Well you saw our costumes, there isn't much breathing room in there. Oh and it's best with a slice of cheddar on it. Heated up a bit. Trust me."
His classmates' performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream had been many things, but short was not one of them and Johnny's empty stomach led him toward the kitchen almost as soon as they'd returned. Unfortunately, where everything in the massive kitchen was located was still something of a mystery, leaving him with little choice but to search the large pantry with the aid of a stool that just barely made him tall enough to see all of the shelves. Occupied with his foraging, the white-haired mutant didn't hear the footsteps entering the kitchen some distance behind him.
Being too nervous to eat much before the play, Callie was now ravenous. Thankfully the mansion had a very well stocked kitchen, so she would not have to do without. And it seemed that she wasn't the only resident who had the same idea. That was unsurprising really. After all, everyone needed food. "Hey there," she said, hoping not to startle the boy. "Find anything good?"
She did startle him, but fortunately the boy wasn't tall enough to knock his head against the doorframe when he jumped slightly at the sudden voice or clumsy enough to lose his footing when he turned upon his perch to look down at her. Recognizing Callie both from the journals and from the show, Johnny smiled, "Thespians have to eat too, huh? ...Not yet. A lot of ingredients, but not as much for the cooking impaired. I don't even know what half this stuff is."
"I'm not much of a thespian," Callie said as she ventured further into the kitchen. "But yeah. What are you hungry for? I'm not the best cook, but my Nonna worked to make me at least kitchen literate over Christmas. I'm sure we could cook up something. Or look through the heaps of leftovers."
Johnny, still smiling, hopped down from the stool to step out of the pantry, "Come on, don't sell yourself short. Flaminia Fegarotti's got nothing on you." He stole one last glance back into the space, then looked to the taller girl again, "...We have leftovers?"
That elicited a giggle from the pink girl. "Thanks Johnny," she said with a smile. She knew she wasn't an actor, and that was okay; she had her academics. "Of course there's leftovers. There are always leftovers. Some are even communal." She gestured toward the refrigerator. "Shall we?"
The white-haired boy bobbed his head easily, saying no more on the subject and following her gesture to the fridge. Communal leftovers sounded like a godsend right about now. Johnny pulled open the large door with a playful declaration, "Well, now my curiosity is piqued. I think we have to."
"Anything good in there," she asked from over his shoulder. "Oh hey there's one slice of pie left. I'm surprised there's any left."
The teen perked up despite himself. Pie didn't have much value nutritionally speaking and it was far from a proper dinner, or any sort of meal for that matter...but that did not make it sound any less appealing. He put on a mischievous smile and glanced over his shoulder to meet her gaze, "I say we go halves on the pie and worry about the other stuff if we're still hungry. What do you think?"
While Callie was of the notion that pie could be a meal when paired with the appropriate accoutrement (it did after all contain fruit, carbs, and if you added cheese there would be dairy) she was going to resist the temptation. Easter was less than two weeks away, she could hold out until then. "No you go on and have it. I made it on Sunday. It should still be good. Jay and Jane said it was delicious."
This seemed to perplex the teen who, mid-grab for the covered plate, turned back to her again. It seemed odd to him, especially since she was the chef but was only capable of giving second-hand accounts as to the quality of her own creation. Not that the quality was really in question; it looked as good as she said. He didn't push the matter, instead joking easily, "What, faeries don't eat pie?"
Callie laughed as she reached for some bread to make a sandwich with. "Well you saw our costumes, there isn't much breathing room in there. Oh and it's best with a slice of cheddar on it. Heated up a bit. Trust me."