She remembered her duties as a hostess and was about to ask for tea...

[ameliaashford]

Laughter drifts into the Mansion as a young woman with golden hair (and cornflower blue eyes) walks through one of the doors and into the general hallway. She is dressed in an exquisitely cut day dress in pale pink muslin. She is turned back toward the room she just exited, clearly expecting a reply from someone still inside the room

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[surfaceshine]

Dean, as used to be usual, can be found in the kitchen. He's a tall, chronically rough around the edges, active modern man in his late twenties or early thirties, currently dressed in worn and torn jeans, a charcoal grey henley, and an open red plaid overshirt. If she gets a good look at his right forearm at any point in their interaction, there's a very newly healed, bright pink scar from what could be assumed to be a rather vicious dog bite.

Right now, though, he just wants something to munch on, though he would probably talk to anyone who interrupted his search by entering the room.

[ameliaashford]

If there's one thing that hasn't changed dramatically in centuries, it's that for an English lass, tea is the cure for every problem. So, after settling in her room - courtesy of Asato - she goes in search for the kitchen... Only to find that occupied by someone else. Amelia is slightly stunned by the gentleman's apparel which is unlike anything she's ever seen. She cannot help but tilt her head sideways... and stare. In all probability, that's what Dean would find if he were to look up: a pretty, staring female with a very confused expression on her face.

[surfaceshine]

Oh, Dean is no gentleman. And he's accustomed to that particular expression, so when he hears someone at the door and glances over his shoulder at her, he is not in his turn extremely surprised. Or even remotely. He is, however, slightly buzzed though it would take someone who knows him very well to notice that immediately; he flashes a half-hearted smile and turns back to his task, shoulder-deep in the current cabinet and rummaging around by feel.

"Mornin'," comes the lazy, midwestern American drawl.

[ameliaashford]

The drawled greeting kicks Amelia into gear and she politely stops staring. Moving slightly further into the kitchen, she returns the greeting in a very proper Queen's English: "Good morning to you as well. Are you part of the staff in this place?" It doesn't - yet - occur to Amelia that Dean might be as much of a guest as she is.

[surfaceshine]

Turned away from Amelia, Dean's half-hearted smile picks up a bit more sincerity; the confused expression plus the question tells him something very important about her, and he doesn't hesitate to let her know about it.

"Ah, new here, huh?" comes the amiable question without turning back around. "Nah. God help us if I am, because I'm a shitty housekeeper." Then, because he used to know how to be friendly without thinking about it, he taps the ignorant, lazily cliche side that has so pained his brother all their lives. "I'd offer you coffee, but you sound more like the tea type."

[ameliaashford]

Amelia is momentarily shocked by the vocabulary used by Dean... until she remembers that some of her cousins are no strangers to foul language like this. The mention of tea, however, is enough to make Amelia not dwell on the other language. "Since I have no idea what coffee is, I would very much appreciate tea, yes." She does have some accomplishments of her own, though, so... "Would you by any chance be able to direct me toward the stove, please?" After all, boiling water is essential for tea...

[surfaceshine]

Told you - not a gentleman. He's not bad, though, if sometimes kind of a dick; he twists to point her to the range. "It's there, and the pot's in there," he directs, pointing to another cabinet he's always seen Jaenelle standing in front of. The hunter is temporarily distracted by the triumphant crinkle of a bag in his questing hand, though, and he is unabashedly pleased with himself when he succeeds in pulling some Doritos out of the cabinet.

Closing the door, he finally turns to face her, plopping the bag down on the counter. "Since I'm the help, this one time only I'll offer to get it for you, if you want." He's smirking, though, no real offense taken to her assumption; just in a kind of pleasant mood and remembering his own first day not that long ago.

[ameliaashford]

Amelia is once again confused: the words suggest that she's committed some sort of faux pas, and yet the smirk says otherwise. Come to think of it, that smirk is far too much like the facial expressions routinely used by the various male members of her family. She won't be kowtowed though, not even here. So she straightens - not that it makes much difference, given that she's not very tall to begin with - breathes in deeply and replies: "I meant no offense, sir, it's simply that everything is so new." Looking at the stove, she continues: "And I'm sure if you'd be so kind as to explain how that... -thing- works, I can manage a pot of tea." A smile follows that self-assured response, intending to demonstrate that she means no harm or foul.

[surfaceshine]

Dean approves of her poise, though he doesn't use that word in his head, and indeed doesn't even give much thought to what he approves of in general; instead, he shrugs.

"Sweetheart, I know what you mean, and believe me when I say you'll know when I take offense." He winks, then pushes off where he's leaning on the counter and crosses to the stove, bending to squint to check the pilot light before reaching for one of the knobs. He doesn't seem too concerned about any possible or perceived faux pas. "Kind ain't the half of it - here. This lights it, and the pot goes there when you've got it. Yeah?"

He lights one of the burners, then steps out of her way.

[ameliaashford]

Amelia is positively fascinated by a stove that appears to light itself and so she moves perhaps a little TOO close. "Is this some sort of new invention? It's remarkable!" Naturally, there is no such thing as flame-resistant clothing in her world... in fact, with her dress being made of muslin, she's all but a walking fire hazard this close to the stove. "And the well? Where might I find that?" Plumbing in her world doesn't look anything like it does here, so she doesn't automatically connect the shiny, silver-like faucet. "Tea, I presume is in one of the larders? Would you care for a cup as well? It seems only proper that you would receive some sort of reward for your assistance."

[surfaceshine]

Dean, kind of really ridiculously horrible at placing fashions in the proper era, is still not really surprised by her fascination with the stove; what is surprising is that despite how little he cares about most things, fire safety was in fact drilled into him from an early age, and he is silently alarmed at how close she leans.

"Ah, it's new enough, I guess," he replies, somewhat distracted by reaching around her to turn it off. Just in case. "Water's here, but seriously, I'll get it. You can get me back next time."

He doesn't wait for permission, instead turning to pull the tea... thing... (he doesn't know what it's called properly, but he very recently added tea-making to his skills so he knows what it looks like and how to use it) down and crossing to fill it with water.

Meanwhile, "I'm good." He notches his chin at the coffeemaker on the counter, nearly finished with his own first second choice of comfort drink.

[ameliaashford]

Amelia really isn't the simpering type, constantly flirting and being coy, but Dean's helpfulness does earn him a genuinely relieved smile! "Thank you," she comments with heartfelt honesty. "That's very kind of you." She then promptly proceeds to try and come up with a plan to return the favor some time... which will require the acquisition of basic cooking skills, something she doesn't currently have!
She follows Dean's gesture toward the coffeemaker, yet another strange device to Amelia's eyes. She then sniffs delicately, trying to figure out where that particular... smell is coming from. "What -is- that? It smells... interesting."

[surfaceshine]

Dean, because he is sometimes a bit on the thick side, does seem mildly surprised by the thanks; the corner of his mouth twists into a return smile, but it's uncertain and faint, and soon disappears with his speech.

"That... is mana from heaven. The almighty java bean. Coffee," he replies, mock-reverently. It's a bit half-hearted for his usual efforts, but he's done with the sink and moving back to the stove to relight the burner and put the pot over the flame. "This is gonna take a minute - you can have some of mine, if you want."

He's already collecting the mug he put down to scout out the chips; keeping his hands busy before the restlessness can really set in.

[ameliaashford]

Coffee is largely banned to women in Amelia's time, but she has heard of it, largely thanks to her more daring sister Amanda. "Ah... so -this- is what coffee is all about. It does smell awfully strong though, I presume one takes it with milk, just like tea?"

Congratulations, I think Dean may be the first to corrupt Amelia ;) ::grin::

[surfaceshine]

Dean gives her a rather bland expression of mock-horror. It's probably only bland to him, though, having known himself in happier times. "Now why'd you wanna go and ruin a perfectly good cup-a joe with milk?"

He thumps a second mug down next to his, pours hers half full before offering it while he fills his nearly to the brim. He nods at the fridge. "It's in there, though, if you insist. By the way, I'm Dean."

There's the half-twist of a smile again while he settles back to lean on the counter.

Typical! He kind of likes her. XD

[ameliaashford]

Taking a devilish delight out of knowing that she's about to do something most of the people from her world would wholeheartedly disagree with, Amelia cannot hide the small but definitely mischievous smile on her face. She reaches for the cup and takes it in her hands. "What did you call this? A cup of Joe? That's a very unusual name for a drink!" She then mimics Dean's actions and sniffs the coffee in appreciation. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I'm sure, mr. Dean. I am Amelia Ashford."

Amelia then takes her first sip of coffee and despite a case of 'rumpled nose', she does swallow it. "Is it supposed to be that bitter? Or can one put something in there to make it sweeter?"