Mystique; Kitchen
=BH= Kitchen - Refinery Lv 1 - Abandoned Mining Facility
Mystique stands at the counter, resettling the coffee pot into the coffee maker with her back to the door. Her weight is settled heavily on one leg, avoiding the strain of the wound that curves across her opposite hip and thigh. A stark white bandage stands out crisply against the blue.
"Light on, light off. On, off." Toad's happy chanting is heard before he is seen. He comes, hopping low to the ground on two feet and one hand. The other hand holds a flashlight up high, clicking it with each articulation of his voice. Below him scrambles a helpless cockroach, scuttling at each flash of the light. "Ech, on no you dun'," Toad snickers, moving his flashlight-free hand to herd the bug into the middle of the kitchen floor.
Mystique turns slightly, gaze angling over her shoulder to study Toad's entrance with growing distaste. "Must you, in the kitchen?"
Toad slaps a cupped hand over the cockroach, his head and turned-on flashlight turns directly towards Mystique. "I followed 'im 'ere."
"Next time, endeavor to catch it before he manages to infiltrate the area where we eat our food?"
"Food," Toad agrees, scooping his captive and standing up straight. The light is clicked off and tucked into a loop on his pants. He pops the bug into his mouth and starts to munch. "Just goin' to the proper place ter eat it," Toad explains through his mouthful.
There is an articulate sound of disgust that rises from the back of Mystique's throat before she turns fully, stepping carefully from the counter to the table.
"You 'ave yer mutation, an' I 'ave mine." Toad scraps a dirty fingernail over his front teeth before moving his eyes over with sparked curiosity. "Wot 'appened to you?"
"Hm?" Mystique lowers herself into a chair, hands wrapped around the warmth of heated ceramic.
Toad flips a hand up, wiggling fingers at the bandage. "That righ' there."
"Ah." Mystique pauses for a sip and then lowers her mug a touch. "Sabertooth."
"Reeeally?" Toad hums. "Is he at the bottom of the lake with 'is 'ead stuck up 'is ass?"
"I have not seen him recently," Mystique answers quietly. "I expect he's in his room or about the compound."
Toad tilts his head, leaning up against the counter. "Gonna live, luff?"
Mystique turns her eyes to study Toad with lifted brows. "A scratch is hardly going to kill me."
"Good, good," Toad murmurs with distraction as he studies a hand.
"No worries," Mystique murmurs in reply, into the lift of her mug. "You won't be forced to be without my company for some time yet."
Toad slowly looks up to her. "We 'ave our moments."
Mystique blinks evenly at Toad without response.
Toad raises an eyebrow and echoes the silence.
After a moment, Mystique drops her gaze again and repeats, "It's simply a scratch. It will heal."
"Moments like that one," he says as they roll out of the silence. Toad pushes himself up, studying her. "I'll manage to sleep tonight some'ow."
"I'm pleased to know it," Mystique answers crisply. Her gaze follows him as he rises. "Have you met our new one yet?"
Toad shakes his head. "Nah, but if it's 'alf as charmin' as you, luff, then m'on my toes with delight." He rolls up on his toes to prove it.
"Why Mortimer," Mystique draws out. "I didn't know you cared."
"Care about a lot'ter things," Toad informs her.
"Such as cockroaches?" Mystique suggests.
Toad rolls his eyes up and fingers at his flashlight. "Sure, like cockroaches," he responds moodily.
"And?"
"Things," Toad says, unsure.
"Things," Mystique echoes, and lifts her mug for another sip.
"Eh, wot would you know, 'nyways?" Toad snaps, thwaping a foot to the floor and gaining leverage a hop off to the door. "Only thing /you/ care 'bout is that 'airy axe wound twixt yer legs."
"If you didn't want to have a conversation, Mortimer, all you had to do was say so," Mystique replies, voice carefully even.
Toad catches his hand on the door and peeks over it, yellow eyes flashing. "Wastin' yer breath. M'a lit'l cockroach eatin' animal, ain't I? Wastin' yer bloody breath on me."
"Oh, come now. You're going to run off in a sulk because I'd rather you not eat vermin in our kitchen?"
"I can take my meals elsewhere. If it ain't fittin' fer your pristine fuckin' kitchen, that is. Wot a lit'l 'ousewife Magneto's turned you inter."
Mystique's head snaps upward smartly. "Careful, Mortimer," she answers sharply. "Erik has turned me into nothing."
Toad's hand slides off the door frame. "I'll make sure ter eat my meals elsewhere, luff." He moves to slip out the door without a backwards look.
Mystique turns forward again, gaze dropping to her mug with an irritated, unhappy twist of her lips.
Mystique stands at the counter, resettling the coffee pot into the coffee maker with her back to the door. Her weight is settled heavily on one leg, avoiding the strain of the wound that curves across her opposite hip and thigh. A stark white bandage stands out crisply against the blue.
"Light on, light off. On, off." Toad's happy chanting is heard before he is seen. He comes, hopping low to the ground on two feet and one hand. The other hand holds a flashlight up high, clicking it with each articulation of his voice. Below him scrambles a helpless cockroach, scuttling at each flash of the light. "Ech, on no you dun'," Toad snickers, moving his flashlight-free hand to herd the bug into the middle of the kitchen floor.
Mystique turns slightly, gaze angling over her shoulder to study Toad's entrance with growing distaste. "Must you, in the kitchen?"
Toad slaps a cupped hand over the cockroach, his head and turned-on flashlight turns directly towards Mystique. "I followed 'im 'ere."
"Next time, endeavor to catch it before he manages to infiltrate the area where we eat our food?"
"Food," Toad agrees, scooping his captive and standing up straight. The light is clicked off and tucked into a loop on his pants. He pops the bug into his mouth and starts to munch. "Just goin' to the proper place ter eat it," Toad explains through his mouthful.
There is an articulate sound of disgust that rises from the back of Mystique's throat before she turns fully, stepping carefully from the counter to the table.
"You 'ave yer mutation, an' I 'ave mine." Toad scraps a dirty fingernail over his front teeth before moving his eyes over with sparked curiosity. "Wot 'appened to you?"
"Hm?" Mystique lowers herself into a chair, hands wrapped around the warmth of heated ceramic.
Toad flips a hand up, wiggling fingers at the bandage. "That righ' there."
"Ah." Mystique pauses for a sip and then lowers her mug a touch. "Sabertooth."
"Reeeally?" Toad hums. "Is he at the bottom of the lake with 'is 'ead stuck up 'is ass?"
"I have not seen him recently," Mystique answers quietly. "I expect he's in his room or about the compound."
Toad tilts his head, leaning up against the counter. "Gonna live, luff?"
Mystique turns her eyes to study Toad with lifted brows. "A scratch is hardly going to kill me."
"Good, good," Toad murmurs with distraction as he studies a hand.
"No worries," Mystique murmurs in reply, into the lift of her mug. "You won't be forced to be without my company for some time yet."
Toad slowly looks up to her. "We 'ave our moments."
Mystique blinks evenly at Toad without response.
Toad raises an eyebrow and echoes the silence.
After a moment, Mystique drops her gaze again and repeats, "It's simply a scratch. It will heal."
"Moments like that one," he says as they roll out of the silence. Toad pushes himself up, studying her. "I'll manage to sleep tonight some'ow."
"I'm pleased to know it," Mystique answers crisply. Her gaze follows him as he rises. "Have you met our new one yet?"
Toad shakes his head. "Nah, but if it's 'alf as charmin' as you, luff, then m'on my toes with delight." He rolls up on his toes to prove it.
"Why Mortimer," Mystique draws out. "I didn't know you cared."
"Care about a lot'ter things," Toad informs her.
"Such as cockroaches?" Mystique suggests.
Toad rolls his eyes up and fingers at his flashlight. "Sure, like cockroaches," he responds moodily.
"And?"
"Things," Toad says, unsure.
"Things," Mystique echoes, and lifts her mug for another sip.
"Eh, wot would you know, 'nyways?" Toad snaps, thwaping a foot to the floor and gaining leverage a hop off to the door. "Only thing /you/ care 'bout is that 'airy axe wound twixt yer legs."
"If you didn't want to have a conversation, Mortimer, all you had to do was say so," Mystique replies, voice carefully even.
Toad catches his hand on the door and peeks over it, yellow eyes flashing. "Wastin' yer breath. M'a lit'l cockroach eatin' animal, ain't I? Wastin' yer bloody breath on me."
"Oh, come now. You're going to run off in a sulk because I'd rather you not eat vermin in our kitchen?"
"I can take my meals elsewhere. If it ain't fittin' fer your pristine fuckin' kitchen, that is. Wot a lit'l 'ousewife Magneto's turned you inter."
Mystique's head snaps upward smartly. "Careful, Mortimer," she answers sharply. "Erik has turned me into nothing."
Toad's hand slides off the door frame. "I'll make sure ter eat my meals elsewhere, luff." He moves to slip out the door without a backwards look.
Mystique turns forward again, gaze dropping to her mug with an irritated, unhappy twist of her lips.