[Open] Hey, hey, what's cooking?

[distinctive_guy]

CHARACTERS: distinctive_guy and OPEN
DATE: Oct 9th (Backdated Day 13 - Night)
RATING: PG... assuming no fights break out.
SUMMARY: In the Cafeteria kitchen, musing over exit tokens and making gourmet food.

Comments

[oxbridgethegap]

He had gone wandering, as well as a chair-bound man could, once night had fallen. The stuffiness of his room was unwelcome when he was in such a mood, and though he was growing fond of his young roommate, Charles preferred being alone when he wished to think serious matters through. That meant the balcony had been automatically ruled out.

The subject of his thoughts lay in one hand, clenched between fingers and palm. The metal had, naturally, absorbed heat from his skin, and grown blood-warm as time passed.

Thankfully, his nose had caught the scent of Eliot's cooking just as his thoughts had turned to unpleasant memories--ones brought to the forefront of his mind by the very coin he was holding. Grateful for the distraction, Charles wheeled himself toward the source of the smell, wheels squeaking on the floor as he entered the kitchen.

"Keeping yourself busy, I see, Eliot," Charles greeted warmly.

[distinctive_guy]

Eliot heard Charles' approach long before the greeting, there was no hiding sounds of a wheelchair like that, but didn't turn around until he was addressed. It gave him ample time to stir the soft rice into the soup and cover it to let it all simmer slowly.

"People need to eat," he answered just as he carried another pot from the stove to pour into a massive bowl. Orange lumps of buttered squash came rushing out.

He lifted his eyebrows suggestively at the telepath and indicated to a large heaping plate of sautéed vegetables on the counter. "You're welcome to some if you're hungry, though the bird won't be done for some time. Give the soup a few more minutes."

As he turned his back to add the pot to a growing pile in the sink, he added kindly, "Good to see you're movin' about."

[oxbridgethegap]

"That's very kind of you." Charles glanced at the indicated dish, then peered at the numerous other dishes Eliot was still cooking. Though the smells wafting from the kitchen had lured him in with little effort, Charles hadn't expected the variety that was being presented to him.

"This is very good timing," he said almost cheerfully. "I was just thinking of heading back to my room to eat, but this is a much better option by far. It does get rather stuffy in those rooms at times."

Then, with a look around the kitchen again, he added, "This is quite the dinner you are making. How many are you expecting?"

[distinctive_guy]

"Whoever drops by, although you're the first tonight," Eliot answered as he wiped his hands on a large towel. Next he picked up some serving utensils from the drawers and placed them on one of the lower tables by Charles. Then with one of the forks, he pointed at a large stack of carryout containers he had in a corner. "Most of the time I just bring it to them. And any extras I make are gone usually by the time I leave here."

Grabbing the dishes from the tall counter, he moved them to the table as well so they will be the right height for the man's wheelchair. He dragged a smaller chair over to join the Charles.

"So..." He gave the telepath a quick glance while he served some of the food. It wasn't one day ago that he felt that accented voice speaking in his mind in the underground tunnels of the island. "How does it work, your power?"

[oxbridgethegap]

The sight of the take out boxes surprises Charles; he wouldn't have thought they could wold have such a thing available to them, especially considering the noticeable lack of diners and other eateries.

"For all of the island's shortcomings, it certainly makes certain we find nearly everything we could need," Charles sighs as he settles himself at the table, picking up on Eliot's clues. Once again, he is grateful the man does not make a fuss, and merely sees to it--quietly and efficiently--that he is comfortable.

Perhaps that is why the question does not come as a surprise, though enough people have shown concern for it that Charles nearly expects inquiries about that as much as he does with the wheelchair. With the missions and the creatures the island harbours, there simply is no way around it.

"My abilities center around telepathy--the mind, you might say--as you might have gathered after the mission."

[distinctive_guy]

Eliot nodded as if what Charles said merely confirmed his own working theories. "Yeah, thought that. You're welcome to say so if you don't wanna talk 'bout it," he said, making it clear that he did not wish to discomfort his guest with the questioning. "Just wanna understand, that's all."

He was more than willing to exchange a bit of cooking for more information. "So you're a mind reader and can communicate through thoughts." It was obvious the man wasn't trying to con him, he clearly sensed the other's mind during the mission and he even removed his own headgear to confirm it wasn't coming through there.

He tried to keep it casual when he asked, "What else can you do?"

[oxbridgethegap]

Charles waves off the man's concern with a wry smile. "There would be no point in hiding my abilities on this island. Between the missions, the creatures inhabiting the area, and others with abilities, I'm certain you would have gotten your answer sooner or later."

"In fact," Charles continues, fingers lacing together on the table as he leans forward. "Your desire to understand the telpathy only further convinces me to speak to you about it. The truth is, Erik, the younger mutants, and I had worked with the government in our world, and not everyone was as amenable and willing to listen as you. I thank you for that."

Once again, his opinion of Eliot rises when the man continues to stay reasonable and calm, though Charles can see the telepathy in itself is a little discomfiting. It's admirable, really, that he is trying, and it's moments like this that Charles continues making acquaintances of non-mutants for. "My abilities are...very broad. It may take a while to explain them fully."

[distinctive_guy]

Charles was right in assessing that this talk of powers, hell, the whole island and half its inhabitants, kept the hitter on an edge he tried hard to hide. This was so far from the reality he was used to that he wouldn't be human to feel otherwise, but Eliot was good at adapting to bad situations.

Starting by finding out everything he can about them.

He waved a hand at the thanks to signify he understood. "I'm not in a hurry to go anywhere," he replied, gesturing to his chicken still roasting in the oven and the food they have yet to eat. "Start easy and work your way up. I've seen what Erik can do, some of the others too, but your powers are different from that, ain't it?"

Eliot may not have mutant powers, but he could read people, and Charles carried a confidence that even being confined to a wheelchair couldn't completely dampen.