Who: Remy and Angelo When: Friday, August 29, 2008, afternoon, some awkward period between lunch and dinner Where: Cafeteria What: New life, new place, good old comfort food - Secret Origins! Note: Expect a picked pocket, no matter who you are XD
It hadn’t been a great four days. Remy had arrived at the Xavier Institute the afternoon before, after a painstakingly long twenty-four car ride with Monsieur Logan, a man he had respect for, but still didn’t trust. Trust didn’t seem like a commodity the Cajun thief could afford, feeling too much guilt from what had happened only four days earlier, feeling too much fear from his powers going out of his control like that, feeling too alien from being someplace so far removed from either New Orleans or the bayou. Non, he didn’t like any of this yet. But he recognized that he really had no choice in the matter.
He looked forward the most to meeting new people, at least. He loved new people. And in a school full of mutants, they had to be interesting for the most part, right? He least looked forward to school. He’d learned a few things here and there, of course, things he needed to know. But he’d never studied nay history, hadn’t learned much beyond the most basic literacy, didn’t care a whole lot about math. He knew plenty of practical things, he was terribly streetsmart, he just didn’t have an ounce of booksmart in him. So he’d ditched his first day of classes. Off to a real great start. He figured they’d look the other way for a new student, right? Time to settle in?
He liked new settings, sure, but he wasn’t about to give up all chances at the familiar. When he ran out of places to explore (or, rather, got bored with it – he could explore the second floor over the weekend), he found his way to the kitchen. He’d been there all morning and afternoon, while everyone else went to class, cooking up some gumbo from leftovers he could find in the fridge, finding enough ingredients to make a batch of hush puppies. He poured himself a glass of lemonade, since the sweet tea from Publix in the fridge made him squint and spit it out in the sink. Yuck. He’d have to make some better sweet tea later, quietly replace it. It was torture to drink that stuff. He made a side of green beans, nice and seasoned, with some mushrooms and onions mixed in. All in all, the little thief made a great cook, something he was never apt to hide.
With his own meal (he would never trust what the cafeteria doled out itself), he piled up a tray and made his way to the still-empty cafeteria. Classes would let out soon, but he figured most kids would be getting ready for power training, not ready for dinner for at least two hours. He wished he could have company, but he was okay with a little more alone time. A lot still had to sink in.
“Bon appetit!” he said to no one in particular, the empty mess hall, then dug into his huge portions. There was no way even the hungry Cajun could eat this all.