xp_logs | Artie and Maddie: The kitchenating (Reply)

Maddie discovers that Artie has a cute butt, that he can't talk, and that there is a source of sugary caffeiney goodness at her disposal. And the world will never be the same.

Apparently, cleaning the kitchens involved a lot of work. Removing the stuff from the cupboards and scrubbing them out. Sanitizing the benches and cooking surfaces every time food was prepared. Mopping the floors. Sanitizing more things with a little pink bottle of sanitizer. Etc.

Artie had his headphones in and all the communal crockery stacked up on the benches, not paying much attention to anything else. Today was sanitize the cupboards day! (There was a checklist. There was an actual, honest to god, hands down checklist.)

Oh. So apparently that whole "I'm the guy cleaning the kitchen" thing in her journal wasn't a joke after all. And this kid was taking the thing super seriously, Maddie decided, as she stood in the doorway of the room of foodening. It was like packing everything to move day, with all the pots and pans out of their cupboards and cleaning supplies stacked nearby. Which meant that her original goal of making chocolate chip cookies out of sheer boredom was out. There was nowhere to cook, and definitely nowhere to sit. On the plus side, the guy with his head in a cupboard had a really nice butt.

But it wasn't like she could stand there all day staring at it like a creepy girl. And it was probably poor form to know someone by their assets rather than their face, or so her mother would probably tell her. Which meant that the only real option available to someone who wanted to snack and avoid studying was to pick up an apple en route, and sit herself down on a clean patch of counter nearby.

"Hey," Maddie nudged the boy with her foot. "Whatcha doin?"

Artie flailed when he felt the foot tap him and whirled, sponge held up threateningly, only to relax when he saw the new girl. What was he doing? Well, right now, he was having a heart attack. "cleaning the kitchen," he replied, letting the words hang in the air above her eyes and began dumping plates back into the cupboard.

"Woah, woah, woah," Maddie nudged him again. "What did you just do? Do it again. That's kinda awesome."

"you mean this?" Artie looped the text into a figure eight and then sent it snaking around the last few plates on the counter.

"Dude." Maddie's eyes went wide as she followed the words as they looped. "That is so freaking cool."

Artie shoved the last of the plates back into the cupboard. "glad you appreciate it."

"Artie, right," she asked. "I thought you were just joking about the whole cleaning thing." Teenage boys didn't clean voluntarily, in Maddie's experience. "So do you talk, or what?"

"i wish i was joking about the cleaning thing. and no, i don't talk. blame my mutation for that," Artie replied.

Maddie coughed as a piece of apple went down wrong, and stared at him flabbergasted. "Shut. Up," she gasped, not bothering to register the irony of this statement. Or the rudeness. One of the two. Purple haired cat, zombie calling roommate, and now no-talking kid; man this place was freaking weird. "Like you seriously are mute. Dude. That really fuckin' sucks, man. That's like, a completely sucky mutation."

Artie gave a slightly sardonic clap. "yes, i reallly can't talk. and yes, it does suck as a mutation. bit i make up for it by being able to do this," and he covered his face with his hands, layering on the
illusions as he pulled them away to reveal green-scaled skin and cat pupiled eyes.

Okay. That was pretty cool, Maddie had to admit. But did it make up for not being able to talk? And sing? The answer, to the redhead at least, was a resounding no, and she silently thanked whatever deity or whatever that was up there for not taking away her voice. Being a mutant was one thing, but not being able to rock out was quite another.

"Oh hey," she exclaimed suddenly. "You missed a spot. Back there."

Artie let the illusion go, sighed and squirted his cloth with more sanitizer and leaned back into the cupboard, rubbing at the corner. The only thing left on today's checklist was the ever-present sanitize the counter tops. He got to work and let an image of a cup of coffee float over his shoulder, followed by a question mark.

"Are you asking me if I want coffee or are we just playing Pictionary," she asked, leaning back to watch him work. "'Cause I'm warning you now that I am the shit at Pictionary, and it wouldn't be fair to you if I didn't give you ample warning of my kicking your ass."

"Coffee. You want one?" Artie asked, switching back to words and warily approaching Hank's Monstrosity and pulling out his voice synthesizer to type "mocha macchiato frappe with peppermint sauce" and hitting play before hitting go on the machine.

Coffee (or rather a super sweet slightly coffee descendant) at this hour would result in hyperactive nighttime activity, which, if Maddie was being honest, was probably not the most best decision. But the siren song of caffeine, chocolate, and sweetened syrupy goodness called to her, and she was unable to resist. "Sure. Can it make me a salted caramel mocha? And do we have any whipped cream? Oh, and chocolate sauce to top it off? Or caramel. I'm easy."

They would learn soon enough not to give the Madelyne caffeine, or sugar, especially not together.

Artie nodded and ordered it. The machine made the usual liable to explode any second now noises and then, there was coffee! He handed Maddie's over to her.

She accepted the cup like it was a brightly wrapped gift on Christmas morning. It smelled magical. And Maddie was sure it would taste just as magical. "Life's too short," she proclaimed, raising her mug in toast. "So let's drink and be merry."

Oh this was going to be fun.