Clint and Catseye (Backdated)

[x-catseye.livejournal.com]

Backdated to March 31

Clint helps Catseye change up the bulletin board and the two chat about Clint's experience with having two foster dads and Catseye's idea to own a restaurant.

Clint squinted a little and tilted his head to the side as he pried staples from the bulletin board near the RAs' rooms. "I don't think all these staples are from Nutrition Month," he said, dropping a handful into the trash can sitting between him and Catseye. "I think they're archaeological proof that all the other RAs ever never actually took their staples out when taking down boards."

Catseye's tail lashed as she feigned anger at this. "Lazy old RAs!" she called out, flipping staples out of the board with her claws. "We should have made them buy Korvus and me a new board when we took over. A clean one. With no old staples! We don't want any secondhand staples here!" She dug around in the tool-kit-looking craft box she'd brought and held out a staple remover for Clint. "Here, use the Mouthy Bitey Machine. He's helpful."

"The Mouthy Bitey Machine?" Clint asked, laughing a little. He'd gotten to know his RA well enough to know that she made up names for things all the time. It just never really ceased to amuse him. It did make getting the staples out a lot easier. "What're we putting up?"

The RA opened a portfolio that she and Korvus shared to keep their creations safe until it was time to put them up and pulled out the construction-paper and card stock images she'd cut out or glued on, as well as the lettering for the board. "Tips for keeping up on sleep during the final term of school, like for finals and stuff," she explained. "'Don't be a zombie'," she quoted with a smirk. "Do you like it?"

Clint grinned. "Yeah, that's pretty cool - and it totally fits with the zombie thing we're doing, too. This guy sort of looks like the zombies from that plants versus zombie game - is that where you got him from?" The whole thing was kind of funny - and the tips for sleep would probably come in handy.

"Yeahyeah," Catseye nodded, grinning. "I love that game! Do you like that game?"

Nodding, Clint said, "Yeah, it's a lot of fun. The little garden thing's kind of irritating, though. I could spend all day just watering plants and picking up coins. And I hate those digger zombies. Sometimes I forget to put of a defense against them and they just decimate everything."

Pulling out the last staple, Catseye snorted at him. "Oh maaaan, yeah I hate them too! But I think the vaulting ones are just as annoying sometimes." She pulled the elastic off a roll of black construction paper which she'd bought at a craft store, already pre-cut to the size of the bulletin board. "Could you staple this new background paper up while I hold it in place, please?" she asked him.

"Sure," Clint said, grabbing the stapler. Working together, it didn't take them long at all to get the background up. "Hey, random - but you made that stuffing stuff for Thanksgiving, right? The kind that wasn't like... traditional? I remember somebody talking about it - you like cooking?"

The catgirl cocked her head at him as he asked the question. "I do, yesyes! I'm learning how to be a cook and restaurant manager in college. I want to open a restaurant someday," she told him with a grin, handing him the cutouts of the zombies while she picked up the squares of card stock with the tips on them. "You wanna put these guys up while I put up the cards?" she suggested. "Do you like cooking?"

Clint took the cutouts and checked the little printed diagram of what the board was meant to look like to make sure he was putting them in the right spots. "I'm not really good at cooking. I mean, nothing fancy or anything. But I don't burn stuff, either." He smiled. "My foster dads do all the cooking. It seems like it'd be something interesting to learn, though. What kind of restaurant do you want to open?"

"A mutant restaurant," Catseye answered immediately. "Not, I mean, not with, like, mutant food or anything. Not food made out of mutants, I mean," she struggled to clarify. "But a place where mutants can come to eat without getting funny looks. Not that regular people couldn't come there, too," she added, frowning. "I don't want to tell anyone they can't eat there or give anyone funny looks. But the regular people would know that it's a place for mutants to go to get good food and feel safe. And it would have some special dishes people could ask for if someone couldn't eat certain foods. What's it like having two dads?" she questioned suddenly.

"It's... I dunno. This is the best placement I've ever had. Nobody's getting abused, it's not overcrowded... they didn't send me back to child services." Clint shrugged a little. "They want to adopt me - or well. They've started the process already? It's... pretty awesome, actually." He finished with the first cutout zombie and moved on to the second one. "And that sounds like a really cool restaurant, too. Are you gonna serve all kinds of food - like burritos and burgers and spaghetti? Or just one kind - like a burger joint or something."

Catseye grinned as she looked up from stapling the card stock to the board. "That's good that it's awesome," she nodded. "Did other kids give you a hard time about it? At your last school? Like they do sometimes when kids become mutants? Or were they cool about it?" She paused to think of an answer to his question about the restaurant. "I don't know yet," she admitted. "I hope all kinds of food! I guess it would need a theme or something, though, she shrugged. Any ideas? If I was to open it up here in Salem Center, what kind of food do you think we need?"

"The other kids gave me a hard time for a little while, but I didn't really react to it so they kind of laid off," Clint said, finishing with the second zombie cutout. "I dunno - maybe like. A diner sort of place? Start out with something easy that you know you can do really, really well and then build from there? What do you enjoy cooking most?"

"Meat!" she answered immediately. "And fishes. I like Middle-Eastern food, but also French. And also diner stuff. So a diner would be cool!" She accidentally stapled the next card on upside-down, and stared at it as if contemplating whether she should pretend she meant to do it like that. "It's good that you could ignore the other kids," she nodded. "I know it's really hard for lots of people to do that. But that's much better than getting angry. I think it just makes it worse if you get angry. Then they don't want to stop because they know you're upset, right?"

"Yeah, that's what my councilor told me, too," Clint said, nodding. "It kind of makes sense. Give somebody a reaction and they'll try to get it again. Or something." Shrugging again, he offered Catseye the staple remover. "I think a diner would be awesome - you could even do specialty stuff like for people who can't eat gluten or something. Or who're always on those weird diets where they can't eat bread. That'd let you focus on the meat recipes. What kinds of food restrictions are there? I know KGibz can't eat chocolate, but is there other stuff, too?"

Taking the staple remover, Catseye fixed the upside-down card. "There's probably millions of other ones," she shrugged, "between people not being able to eat stuff or just not wanting to." Catseye always thought people were far too picky about food. Like Clint said, they were always going on weird diets and things like that. But then again, she'd barely eaten anything green before she was sixteen, so she probably wasn't one to judge. "Maybe everything will just be special order," she mused with a grin. "No menu at all. Just tell me what you want and I'll make it for you!"

Clint grinned. "What if somebody comes in and wants like. Spaghetti with a side of okra and a salad made of star fruit?"

"That sounds delicious!" Catseye giggled. "But yeah, star fruit might be hard to find. Maybe I can write down all the ingredients I have each day on a big blackboard or something so people will only ask for things made with things I have. Or," she suggested, eyes widening, "maybe I could have people order what they want online the day before they visit! Like those restaurants that let you pick out the cow you want to be butchered to make steak out of and then you go to the restaurant a couple days later and you get to eat the cow you picked! I could be like that except with vegetables!"

"Dude," Clint said. "I didn't know there were restaurants where you could pick the cow you wanted to eat! What if other people picked that cow, too? Do you all eat it on, like, a designated day or something? I'm not sure vegetables could live up to the hype. I mean. C'mon. Cow versus eggplant. That's a no brainer... though I do like eggplant."

Catseye pondered that question. It was a good one, and she had no answer for it. Only more questions. "Yeah, and if many people want the same cow how do you decide who gets which part? Or does one person have to eat the entire cow? At least vegetables are smaller," she grinned. "But yeah, they're more boring. But they're easier to cook with. Less chances of killing people or making them sick."

"Unless they're allergic. People are allergic to all kinds of weird things. Like soy. Or corn. You know how bad it is to be allergic to corn? Corn is in everything," Clint said, shaking his head. "But I think being able to pick what goes into your food is awesome. Definitely do that."

"Hmm good point," the catgirl mused. "I'll have to make sure I have EpiPens on hand. I can't imagine being allergic to corn," she said, wrinkling her nose. "You could never eat Mexican food. That would just be sad. Almost as sad as never eating burgers. What food could you not ever never eat?"

"Pancakes," Clint said immediately. "Pancakes and bacon. I mean, I could theoretically do without them, but wow, why would I want to? That's just cruel and unusual punishment or something and, since I haven't committed a crime, why would someone try to do something like that to me? Tell you what I could live without, though - beets. Definitely not a fan of beets."

"Eew, yeah!" Catseye agreed. "At my restaurant, I think if I have beets they'll just be there so people can have fun dyeing things a lovely purple colour," she grinned. "It could be half restaurant, half craft centre!"

Laughing, Clint shook his head. "Man, it's gonna be cool having your own business, though. You can do whatever you want. Can I work there when you open it?"

Catseye replied without hesitation. "Of course you can! Well, I mean, depending on what you want to do, I guess. I mean, I can't let you be the head chef or anything like that, but if you want to work on the line or clean up or something, then for sure! Would you like to do something like that?"

"Yeah, I could totally do something like that," Clint said, nodding. "A summer job or something. What's working on the line mean?"

"It's like... it means that you are in charge of one station of the kitchen. Like... you are in charge of cooking the meat for the burgers, or the bacon, if you are on the meat station. If you are on the fish station you are in charge of all the fish cooking. Or if you are on the garnish station you look after all the side dishes like the fries or salads or rice. They sort of do something like it at Subway," she tried to explain, "where one person puts the meat on the bread and then gives your sandwich to another person who puts the vegetables and sauce on it. You'd need a food handling certificate and some training, but it's something you could definitely do while you're in high school, because it's not as intense as being a head chef."

"Cool," Clint said. "I think that'd be fun. Just let me know when I need to go about getting certified or whatever."

"Awesome! I for sure will! If you're as good a bulletin-board-message-putter-upper as you are a restaurant worker, I think you're going to do fantastic!"