ArchivedLogs:Kitchen Fire

Kitchen Fire
Dramatis Personae Claire, Mallory	2014-04-06 Snacking and introductions
Location <XS> Kitchen
The kitchen staff at Xavier's tends well to the needs of its residents. Always cognizant of its students and faculty's dietary needs alike, the menu has a wide variety of choices, and the longtime cook works wonders in the kitchen. The pantry, too, is kept well stocked for those who want to come prepare themselves their own snacks. The shelf, fridge, and freezer space is ample, though if anyone wants to keep their own food there, they'd better make sure it's labeled clearly, and even that is no guarantee it'll last. Sunday afternoon at Xavier's is somewhat quiet, especially in the kitchen in the lull in activity between lunch cleanup and the start of dinner preparations. The sun is still high enough in the sky to bathe the grounds in a warm, early spring light, drawing students and teachers alike out into the pleasant weather. In the kitchen, however, the refrigerator door is open, and a tall woman is hunched over to examine the contents of the fridge, a long, red fleshed tail swaying idly behind her. Mallory hums quietly to some tune only she can hear, finally standing up and bumping the fridge door shut with her hip, reaching up to scan through the contents of the freezer instead. The tall woman is a visible mutant, standing just over six feet tall, with deep red skin, curling black horns like those of a ram sprout from her temples, with slightly pointed ears visible behind them. Dressed casually in a pair of black yoga pants and a dark gray tunic top, her long hair is pulled back into a ponytail that hangs midway down her back. She has digitigrade legs ending in cloven hooves, and a long tapering tail sways behind her as she looks for a snack. Her attention is focused on food, fairly oblivious to her surroundings as she turns her search towards the nearby cabinets instead, jet black nails tapping on the door of the cabinet. Claire is hungry. She decided to see if she could manage to eat a snack without burning it. Like Mallory, Claire is pretty clearly a mutant, the fire on her head and fingers is not treated as anything particularly special to her. The girl is dressed in denim jeans, a cotton tank-top and a denim jacket, the jacket and jeans both have a couple burn marks. She stops when she sees Mallory, and waits half a second. Then she decides, "Uh. Excuse me?" Mallory has managed to locate a package of chocolate chip cookies from the cabinet, pulling them down and beginning to load a layer of them into a metal bowl located from another cabinet. Each step comes with a sharp 'clack' of hoof against tile flooring, as she moves now to lean against the counter, holding the bowl of cookies solidly in her hands. waiting patiently for something that is not exactly obvious. At the hesitant question from Claire, Mallory looks over to the new student, smiling cheerily, her entirely black eyes flickering with an internal fire, "Oh, hello. I'll be out of the way in just a moment. I was warming my cookies up before adding ice cream." She holds the bowl up demonstratively, before lowering it and offering a proper introduction, her voice bearing an Oxford accent, "I'm Ms. Winthrop, the head librarian. Are you new here?" "I am." Claire kind of half-extends her hand, like she's offering a handshake but doesn't want to pressure. Those burning fingertips might make people uncomfortable, "It's nice to meet you, miss Winthrop. I'm Claire West." She looks past the librarian to the counter beyond that, "Is there any fire resistant food in here?" Mallory looks down at Claire's offered hand with an appraising look, shifting her bowl to sit in one hand while the other hand reaches out to accept the handshake, briefly, her own skin considerably warm for a normal person, in the short contact. When her hand pulls away, there are faint scorch marks, but she does not appear to have experienced any pain in the short contact. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. West," Mallory says quietly, holding both her hands to the metal bowl again, watching the chocolate chips in the cookies start to melt. "It, ah, depends on how fire resistant. There are some foods that do well with heating. Like these," Mallory says, setting her warmed cookies down on the counter to go get some ice cream out of the freezer, slipping on oven mits over her hands first, "What are you in the mood for?" Claire smiles nervously, "I'm not sure. I keep scorching my food on accident." She looks at the cookies, then shakes her head a bit. "It's better to have something I can eat with utensils, I think, I don't think my fire is hot enough to melt steel at least..." "Hmm, well, there are a good number of things that can be eaten with utensils. Looking for a late lunch, or just a snack?" Mallory asks, scooping herself a generous helping of black cherry ice cream on to the cookies as she speaks, still wearing the oven mits. "I've found that adapting to changes can take a bit of ingenuity, but it is possible," she wiggles her fingers in the oven mits, smiling sheepishly, as she puts the ice cream back away, "Most things can be eaten with utensils, though, it just may take a bit longer. And there are ceramics and other materials that will make fire resistant plates and cups - if it can be used in an oven, it should be pretty fire resistant." She smiles, pulling down a hearty looking bowl from one of the cabinets and setting it out for Claire, "So, what can I help you with?" "Something in between, I guess." Claire looks at the oven mits, "You don't take to cold well, miss Winthrop?" She guesses, and then grows quiet for a few seconds, finally asking, "I'm not sure. I'm just ... not used to being like this at all." "I suppose it is more that the cold doesn't take kindly to me. The oven mits mean I have a chance of actually eating the ice cream before it melts to a puddle," Mallory says, picking up the bowl in one oven-mitted hand before pulling a spoon from the drawer to plop into the bowl of ice cream. "My skin temperature on a normal day is well over 49C degrees, the oven mits keep me from heating my ice cream up too much," she explains, taking a bite of ice cream and warmed cookie together. "I'm afraid I'm not the best to offer suggestions for food. I survive on curry and ice cream," Mallory admits sheepishly, "We likely have some soup left over from lunch? Can warm that up, it'll likely tide you over until dinner?" She smiles reassuringly, and nods, "Ah. I can sympathize with that. Sometimes mutations do take a bit of time to get accustomed to. But we are here if you need anything at all. Including helping you get something not quite so easily burnt to eat." "That's pretty warm, I guess." Claire answers, and she sounds like she didn't even notice Mallory's hand was unusually warm when they shaked hands. Her own body temperature is a bit above normal, but not much. "I think I can warm the soup up myself, but thank you for offering." "It tends to catch most people off guard," Mallory says with a shrug, her dark eyes lingering on the fire at Claire's fingertips, "My temperature skyrockets before I transform, but this is reasonably comfortable." She fishes the soup out of the fridge, apparently a vegetable minestrone, pouring it into the ceramic bowl for Claire and setting a spoon beside the bowl. "There you go," she says, sliding the soup towards Claire along the counter, "Ceramic bowl, good insulator, it should be able to withstand some considerable heat." She picks up her own bowl filled with ice cream, cradled in mitted hands, "Can I help you with anything else, Ms. West?" Claire grabs the bowl, and kind of digs her fingertips into it, "I don't know, Miss Winthrop. Can you?" She smiles nervously and adds, "I'm being serious, I don't know." Mallory stops midway through a bite of ice cream at the question, tilting her horned head slightly in thought. "Perhaps. It depends on what you would like assistance with?" Mallory asks cautiously, leaning back against the counter and eating her ice cream, "Do you have questions you'd like to ask? I have been here for almost a year now, and seen quite a bit." She smiles softly, gesturing at the school, "I believe we may have similar mutations, though it may not appear so on the surface." The librarian takes another bite of ice cream, which is quickly melting despite the gloves, "I am here to answer questions if you have them. I live on campus, so can be found around more often than not." Claire keeps digging her fingertips into the soup bowl, heating up the ceramic, "I've been told that there's classes for that around here, and well... at least one person seems to think you'd be the one. I dunno, I'm on fire, I haven't really been able to do anything." Mallory nods, "Many students are assigned an advisor who may be able to assist them in understanding their powers, and ultimately learning to control and adjust to them." The librarian falls quiet for a moment, nodding her head, volunteering quietly, "My mutation enables me to transform into a form made of pure fire. In addition to making me look like, well, this. But here? I have had assistance growing and understanding my own powers and the extent of my mutations." She gestures at her obviously inhuman appearance, before shoveling more ice cream into her mouth, considering quietly. "This is a safe place to explore and learn about yourself and your abilities, academic and otherwise. There is a chance that I will be assigned as your adviser - if so, I will be happy to help answer any questions you might have. Even if I'm not your adviser, I'm here to talk." "I'm just partially on fire. If I get startled or angry or sad the fires grow bigger. I don't know is up with that." She removes one hand from her bowl to point at herself, and then pokes her skin with her burning finger, "I guess I'm fire resistant? At least somewhat?" She takes a sip from her soup, looking at it. "I don't know if there's anything useful to this..." "Ah, emotional link?" Mallory nods slowly, munching on her ice cream and cookies, "Strong emotions can trigger my transformation, or at least make it far easier to happen, which is admittedly unpleasant." She grimaces slightly at the memory, scraping the last of her cookies and ice cream with her spoon, "Fire doesn't bother me as much, briefly, but it is still uncomfortable in longer bouts." Carefully moving to set the now empty bowl in the sink to start soaking, moving back to lean against the counter, "There isn't necessarily any benefit to mine, I suppose. I can see in the dark, moderately, but it just generally makes everything look like it is on fire in low light." A soft sigh escapes her lips and she deposits her oven mitts back into the drawer, wiggling her fingers a bit. "It may be a bit difficult to come to terms with, some times," Mallory agrees, looking at Claire thoughtfully, "You're going to be alright here. It's a good school. Did you want anything else to eat? I was about to head back to my library, but if you needed something else, I can stay." "Guess so." Claire sounds like she's not sure what that means, she grabs a spoon and starts eating her soup, "I think I'll be fine for now. Thank you for helping." She eats a couple more spoonfulls of soup, "Don't let me keep you from your library work, miss Winthrop. I don't think I'll be going there, though. I'm afraid I'd damage the books." Mallory nods slowly, pushing off from the counter. "Alright," she says quietly, making her way towards the door of the kitchen, "Have a pleasant evening, Ms. West. I am certain I will see you around." There's a hesitant smile at the comment about books, "Perhaps in time. But for now, enjoy your dinner, and welcome to the school." Mallory nods politely, and heading for the foyer of the school with a sharp click of hooves on tile, picking up humming the tune she had previously been humming, her tail swaying in time to it.