Log: Emily & Quentin - Meetings
Oct. 2nd, 2024 08:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logs Emily and Quentin meet. It goes much as you might expect.
Emily had spent some of her morning watching old movies and managed to get ‘Pocket Full of Sunshine’ stuck in her head rather thoroughly as she descended the stairs from the residential levels and headed toward the main kitchen.
She wondered if there’d be bacon in the fridge, and maybe some of those fresh chicken eggs from Alani’s chickens.
She really felt like a good scrambled eggs and bacon meal today, maybe even an egg and bacon roll if she was feeling ambitious.
She found the kitchen occupied by a pink-haired young man sitting with his feet kicked up on the dining table, balancing his chair on two legs while he plucked pretzels from a floating bag with one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other hand. He briefly looked up when he sensed the new, unfamiliar presence, but seeing it wasn't anyone special, he silently returned to his doomscrolling.
Pink hair, disdainful air. This had to be Quentin Quire, who she’d seen on the journals.
“Um. Hi.”
She waved a little awkwardly and then stood in the doorway, fidgeting with the end of a lock of hair and trying to figure out if you needed to ask to use a kitchen someone was already in, or if you just…used it.
If it had been another teenager, she’d have just swanned in but this was an adult and an American. What if they had weird social structure rules that she didn’t know?
Oblivious to whatever teenage angst she had going on, Quentin continued flipping through Reels, chuckling every so often. After a minute, he noticed the girl still standing in the doorway, and finally actually looked up from his phone. "Do you need something?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
“Are you, um, that is, Mr Quire? If it’s okay, I’d like to make some breakfast, and I can make you some too if you’d like only I don’t want to disturb you but I’m kinda hungry and this is the nearest kitchen, you see. That’s if it’s okay, um. Do you like bacon and eggs?”
Emily smiled bravely and stood up slightly straighter as her rather fast-paced explanation ground to a halt. You didn’t get far in life if you let people intimidate you, or so her Mum said.
She knew his name, but he did not recognize her. Clearly one of the new kids, but not one who had made an impression to him on the journals. He shrugged. "You don't need to ask me to come in here, you know. Public use. And no, I don't eat animal flesh."
“Oh! That’s so cool. Are you fully Vegan or do you drink milk and stuff? I had a vegetarian cousin but he’d still eat fish. I think that’s called Pescatarian though.”
Emily didn’t wait for a second invitation but quickly moved across to the kitchen cupboards to start pulling out a skillet and avocado oil, along with setting up the toaster and putting a pan of water on to boil. She figured poached eggs and bacon today.
"Just vegetarian, not vegan." He watched her for a moment, following her stilted yet confident movement around the stove and fridge. She seemed to know what she was doing, so this wouldn't likely end in humorous disaster. Besides, the odour of bacon made him ill. He stood up and floated the pretzel bag back to the cupboard before departing without another word.
Emily had spent some of her morning watching old movies and managed to get ‘Pocket Full of Sunshine’ stuck in her head rather thoroughly as she descended the stairs from the residential levels and headed toward the main kitchen.
She wondered if there’d be bacon in the fridge, and maybe some of those fresh chicken eggs from Alani’s chickens.
She really felt like a good scrambled eggs and bacon meal today, maybe even an egg and bacon roll if she was feeling ambitious.
She found the kitchen occupied by a pink-haired young man sitting with his feet kicked up on the dining table, balancing his chair on two legs while he plucked pretzels from a floating bag with one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other hand. He briefly looked up when he sensed the new, unfamiliar presence, but seeing it wasn't anyone special, he silently returned to his doomscrolling.
Pink hair, disdainful air. This had to be Quentin Quire, who she’d seen on the journals.
“Um. Hi.”
She waved a little awkwardly and then stood in the doorway, fidgeting with the end of a lock of hair and trying to figure out if you needed to ask to use a kitchen someone was already in, or if you just…used it.
If it had been another teenager, she’d have just swanned in but this was an adult and an American. What if they had weird social structure rules that she didn’t know?
Oblivious to whatever teenage angst she had going on, Quentin continued flipping through Reels, chuckling every so often. After a minute, he noticed the girl still standing in the doorway, and finally actually looked up from his phone. "Do you need something?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
“Are you, um, that is, Mr Quire? If it’s okay, I’d like to make some breakfast, and I can make you some too if you’d like only I don’t want to disturb you but I’m kinda hungry and this is the nearest kitchen, you see. That’s if it’s okay, um. Do you like bacon and eggs?”
Emily smiled bravely and stood up slightly straighter as her rather fast-paced explanation ground to a halt. You didn’t get far in life if you let people intimidate you, or so her Mum said.
She knew his name, but he did not recognize her. Clearly one of the new kids, but not one who had made an impression to him on the journals. He shrugged. "You don't need to ask me to come in here, you know. Public use. And no, I don't eat animal flesh."
“Oh! That’s so cool. Are you fully Vegan or do you drink milk and stuff? I had a vegetarian cousin but he’d still eat fish. I think that’s called Pescatarian though.”
Emily didn’t wait for a second invitation but quickly moved across to the kitchen cupboards to start pulling out a skillet and avocado oil, along with setting up the toaster and putting a pan of water on to boil. She figured poached eggs and bacon today.
"Just vegetarian, not vegan." He watched her for a moment, following her stilted yet confident movement around the stove and fridge. She seemed to know what she was doing, so this wouldn't likely end in humorous disaster. Besides, the odour of bacon made him ill. He stood up and floated the pretzel bag back to the cupboard before departing without another word.
