exsiliumlogs | Guess Who's Coming to Dinner [semi-open]

Entry tags:

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner [semi-open]

Date & Time: Ju...ly?
Location: Suite 101 (Sue, Medusa, and Crystal's apartment)
Characters: Sue Richards (

fantasticforcefields) and various
Summary: Sue will feed pretty much anyone who's not actively afraid she put arsenic in the potatoes.
Warnings: God, I hope not.
Notes:: If the character's had an even remotely positive interaction with Sue, chances are good they could score a dinner invitation. If you're not sure, PM me and we can handwave some additional CR. I prefer action, but if you love prose, go for it.

[At home, Sue does the cooking. In Exsilium, it's no different. Even if it hadn't been a necessity, living first with Tony and Ivy, and then with the Inhuman royals (though Crystal has picked up a few things in her years in the human world) it's familiar, comforting--and frankly, considering the limited selection of food available even with the Initiative's efforts, it takes a chef of Sue's experience to make it appetizing day after day. She even remembers not to make enough to feed twenty people every night...usually.

Though she's not feeding the menagerie she has in New York--and she tries not to think about just how much she'd rather be doing that--it's as easy to cook for a few more as it is for just herself on nights when her roommates have other plans, and rather than eat alone, she's gotten into the habit of inviting friends or friendly acquaintances to share a meal, and providing dinner has a way of converting the latter to the former in cases where Sue's personality alone isn't quite enough.]

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[ Bucky isn't a picky eater. He couldn't afford to be, growing up on army food and whatever a fourteen year old kid could stew together from the general store. (Ask him about the time he tried mixing carrots, stale bread, and a bright green jar of dill pickles. Or better yet, don't.) Even in Exsilium he wasn't suffering for food. One of the many casualties of Bucky Barnes was his own taste-buds.

He still didn't turn down an invitation to dinner. He's willing to knock politely for it. ]

[Just as well. Surprising Sue isn't necessarily a course of action that leads to unbroken bones.

She opens the door with a smile.]

Bucky. Come in.

[The Fantastic Four uniform is off in a closet somewhere, and she's wearing a sweater and slacks, looking for all the world like someone's attractive but unremarkable mother.]

{ Bucky is wearing a leather jacket and shirt that might be cool if he were wearing it ironically. He obviously isn't. Decades of military service have given him a particular fanaticism about the neatness of his clothes, but they haven't taught him how to match his colors. ]

Hi.

[ He's a bit unsure, as he walks in. It's been a while since anyone had him over for dinner, proper-like. ]

It smells good.

[The apartment looks just like anyone else's, except for the personal touches three women with varying tastes and levels of domestic sensibility have added.]

Thank you. I hope you like chicken.

[She's joking. It doesn't get much safer than chicken if you don't know who you're serving--and Sue doubts he's a vegetarian.]

May I take your coat?

[Stop dripping on her floor.]

( Ellie would have come over without the lure of free food. Not that it's a lure, but it's still a fast way to get Ellie on side, ever since the war. And ever since the infection swept through, too, and she's still trying to build herself back up. It had taken months to be anything that wasn't "unhealthy," and now she feels a little like she's back there, even if she's not as bad as before.

And, with Steph's people from home turning up, it was maybe better for her to clear out and give them some space.

She knocks, slouching against the doorframe a little, and turning her hands over as she plays with her camouflage. Camouflage with a flannel shirt maybe looks a little ridiculous, but it's only over her hand, and she's kind of grinning at it a little. )

Ellie? Come on in.

[Which is going to be difficult, since the door's locked.]

Oh, just a second!

[Sue realizes the problem after a moment, and slaps the right button with a force field from the kitchen. She has to keep watching the sauce or it might break.]

Huh?

( Glancing up and expecting Sue to be there when she hears the door unlock, but... No, not so much. Superpowers are still a thing to get used to, as she ambled in and re-locks the door. She's all but lived in three of these places now, so she's it the layout pretty well figured out, traipsing into the kitchen with a bit of a grin and her hand still shifting to match her surrounds. )

Hi. Uh, is there anything I can help with?

[Sue's family is remarkably casual with superpowers, to the point where they have to replace a lot of furniture after Johnny sets it on fire, or Ben throws it at Johnny. (It might or might not be on fire at the time.)]

Hi, Ellie.

[She's leaning over a saucepan, to all appearances doing nothing but watching it intently, unless one were to get close enough to see that the contents seem to be stirring themselves.]

Would you mind setting the table? Medusa and Crystal are out, so it's just us tonight.

( Sounds a bit like dinner at Homer's house, to be honest. No superpowers, just Homer.
She's not sure how Homer would act around Sue, to be honest, so maybe it's for the best that he isn't here. )

Yeah, I can handle that.

( With a nod, she's heading to the drawer - no, wrong one, other drawer - skin shifting back to normal as she fishes out the cutlery and heads back to the table. )

You're not trying to set it on fire with your thoughts, are you?

That's my brother's department. I'm just making sure the sauce doesn't separate. It still tastes fine, but the texture leaves something to be desired.

[Sizzling in a frying pan on a rear burner, a pair of butterflied chicken breasts flip themselves. Sue doesn't dirty a lot of utensils in the kitchen.]

Wow. You can actually cook stuff.

( This is cool. And it's nice, with the way Leonard left so suddenly. She's not sure she's processed yet, and trying not to just lash out and fight because he's just about one of the major constants she's had since she got here. He could cook okay, too. So, places set out, she's wandering back over.

Being around adults always feels like a relief, when they aren't condescending as all hell. )

It smells really good. ( Hi Sue this is Ellie probably getting in the way because investigating. ) Thanks for inviting me over.

[Nate's a perfectly adequate cook, and his roommates are decent enough dinner company when the occasion warrants it. But sometimes it's nice to spend time with someone he knows a little better - and who is maybe less likely to get into a heated debate about military tactics over coffee. So he accepts Sue's offer, and shows up at her apartment door on time, dressed a little better than his usual choice of faded t-shirts and BDUs. He also has a plate of cookies in hand, because he's not so ill-mannered as to not bring something for the host]

That rates a "wow?"

[If not for their family's accident, Sue would have been perfectly happy as a stay-at-home mom. It had been the plan, even. For her, cooking is unremarkable, something she's been doing since she suddenly found herself responsible for a troublesome younger brother before she was even in high school.]

Chicken broccoli alfredo. The broccoli's a little sad, I'm afraid, but the sauce should hide that.

[Ellie is free to enjoy the sight of a saucepan, boiling pot of pasta, and a frying pan full of chicken. The broccoli's still sitting in the microwave where it was steamed.]

You're welcome.

[At last, someone not raised by metaphorical wolves. Not that Sue's ill-mannered enough to mention it.]

Hi, Nathan. Thanks for coming.

[She smiles waaaaay up as she opens the door for him, letting the scent of a roast out into the hallway.]

Best I can do is a stir fry. Or toast. My mum's a heaps good cook, I mean she did competitions and stuff, at the regional show? But uh, I dunno. Kitchens are intimidating.

( Blowing up a harbour, fine. Cooking? No. No no. ) This is just fancier than what I've gotten for a while.

( Because with Steph on patrol and Leonard being at the clinic and Jim being-- Jim, Ellie was the cook, most nights. Eternal stir fry. She wasn't sure what they'd done when she was sick. ) Do you like cooking?

[Jean would probably attribute any manners to her good influence. He steps inside, and holds out the plate of cookies]

I would've brought some wine, but it's sort of hard to find anything decent around here. I hope dessert will suffice.

[So here's a decision that took way more thought than it warranted — Saul's never been one to turn down invitations to functions involving free food, but he's usually aware of why he's being invited in the first place. Now? Not so much.

It's not that he thinks Sue dislikes him, but —

No, actually, it is that.

Maybe this is an olive branch.

He shows up at her door with a bottle of Port wine that cost him way too much — the shopkeeper swore up and down it was the last bottle of that variety on the whole island, which Saul of course didn't believe at all, but what else is he doing with his money these days? — and knocks.]

_{( Crys enjoys the fact that Sue keeps the apartment full of people coming and going. It’s never so much as to be intrusive to their lives—and even if it was that’s a battle Medusa’s more than capable of fighting—and it does make things seem more like home. Crys like company, and people, and anyone who’s gotten into Sue’s good graces has Crys’s approval whether they want it or not.

She’s not always around for the dinners themselves, but she can appreciate the hominess that cooked meals and company give the apartment. Tonight she’s just come in, yellow skirt blowing out around her ankles as she sees Lockjaw off to his typical corner of the shared living space and then heads for the kitchen. )}

What’s on the menu tonight?

All it takes is practice...but for some reason, telling Reed "it's just chemistry" still doesn't get him into the kitchen.

[Sue and Reed have very normative gender roles, at least until Sue hits the limit of her patience, and she doesn't resent it. It works for them, but sometimes she wonders if the Fantastic Four would have gained such rapid public acceptance if the group hadn't been so entirely unthreatening on a cultural level. Just as well--they made it easier for the less picture-perfect teams that followed.

Ellie's question gives her pause. Does she like cooking?]

I like having my family and my friends around the table. I like making my home a refuge in a chaotic world. Cooking's part of that.

[Well, god knows hanging around Deadpool wasn't going to do it.

Sue takes the plate and steps aside, gesturing with her free hand for Nate to make himself at home.]

Dessert is just perfect. Thank you.

I didn't know you could bake.

[Given the men she spends most of her time with, making the assumption that all male superheroes are hopeless at anything domestic is perfectly logical.]

[Saul is going to have to be much more of a jerk for Sue to start disliking him...but it's logical enough for him to assume otherwise, since he comes from a universe of normal people rather than superheroes weighed down by their manpain.

Nothing in the kitchen needs Sue's constant attention right now, so she tosses aside her towel and goes to open the door in person rather than triggering the latch with a force field.]

Hi, Saul. Come on in. Crystal's out and Medusa was going to be here, but something came up, so it's only the two of us. They'll just have to have their pork chops reheated.

[Quite possibly "not wanting to deal with Saul during her leisure time" is the thing that came up for Medusa, but Sue's much too tactful to suggest anything of the sort.

And Saul really should not be reading anything into the suddenly intimate dinner. Being mostly happily married, albeit a universe away from her husband, it doesn't occur to Sue that anyone would. She's not really dressed to seduce, either, wearing jeans (where the hell did she even get jeans) and a sweater that's just barely on the right side of shapeless.]

Edited (late-night questionable grammar) 2013-07-04 05:02 (UTC)

Hi, Crys. I made an enormous pot of stew. ...Slightly too enormous.

[Even knowing she's cooking for a normal number of people with normal appetites, Sue tends to make too much food. It's never enough to feed an army the way she's used at home, but a squad is usually a definite possibility.

Stew keeps well, at least.]

I think we've got enough greens that I could throw together a salad if you wanted.

Chemistry is where the explosions happen, but. I think he sounds smart.

( She's being obnoxious, of course.

Except, Sue's answer makes her grin slip a little, gaze dropping as she suddenly finds double checking the buttons on her shirt incredibly important, smoothing it over. ) Yeah.

( She misses her family a lot. She has some friends here, she's-- God, dating someone here, or something, but it's not the same at the group back home. ) It makes sense. It's why there's comfort food, right? Makes us feel better.

Sure, yeah.

[ He takes off his jacket, handing it over. ]

This is nice.

[ He might have thrown a whistle in there, too. Basically awkward smalltalk mode, engage. ]

[Saul's not surprised that Medusa opted out for whatever reason, but he already suspects it has something to do with him being there. It's okay, though; he doesn't mind. He's not really one for group events, anyway.

As for his own outfit, he's looking a little more casual than usual, because — surprise of all surprises! — he has every intention of being on his best behavior tonight. So he's not Saul Goodman, lawyer-slash-consultant-slash-assistant-slash-whatever other job title he can slap on his resume thanks to his time here; he's just Saul, semi-friend of Sue, coming over for dinner.

...which is to say that he's not wearing a tie.]

Pork chops? [He steps inside, offers Sue the bottle.] Wow. Can't remember the last time I had pork at all.

_{( Crys--and Medusa--like produce better than meat, on most occasions, though Crys is probably more comfortable with most earth cuisines than Medusa. Or at least just less picky. )}

Oh, I can do it. _{( Because Crys is a helper^TM. She shifts around in the kitchen for a few moments, grabbing the vegetables and then summoning a sphere of water to toss them in. Because putting them in a bowl and using the sink would not be logical at all. )}

Do you not live in the apartment block? They're all like this, more or less.

[Too paranoid, she assumes.

Sue shakes the jacket once to get it to hang straight, and then it floats off to the coat closet next to the door. Her family's extremely casual with their powers.]

Would you like something to drink? ...And by that I mean soda. Most of the alcohol around here seems to have been made in someone's bathtub.

[Smalltalk yes, awkward no. If Sue's noticed Bucky doesn't know what to do with himself (she has) she's showing no sign of it.]

Oh, my husband can cause explosions with any number of common household items. He's very talented.

[And by "talented," Sue means "exasperating," if her expression's anything to go by.]

Is there anything you particularly like? I could make it sometime.

[She knows better than to pry. Ellie will talk if she wants to.]

Edited 2013-07-05 04:08 (UTC)

[Sue knows the Inhumans' preferences, but the exhausted, post-apocalyptic feeling of Exsilium has her doing more careful cooking than usual--stock-making instead of broth from a can, a hodge-podge of leftovers in a stew rather than letting them go to waste. She certainly doesn't like the feeling that every bit counts, but it's at least a hint of a challenge in a world that's proven uneventful by her standards.

...There are a lot of potatoes in the stew, at least.]

Oh, thanks.

[A cabinet opens and a pair of bowls floats by Crystal. Hands are too mainstream.]

Anything interesting happen today?

[Why would a guy named "Saul Goodman" object to pork chops?

Sue's good with the dietary restrictions of a whole lot of non-human races, but occasionally that wide-ranging knowledge comes at the expense of remembering more mundane things...like the fact that a whole lot of Jews don't eat pork.

She accepts the bottle with a thank you, examining the label as Saul keeps talking.]

Oh? Are you allergic?

[This could be bad! ...Can someone even be allergic to pork?]

[Wade and 'manners' don't belong in the same sentence. Ever. He does step inside though, so she can close the door]

Well, I don't bake much. But I can follow a recipe competently if it comes to it.

Whatever you're cooking, it smells delicious, by the way.

I do, I know, I just— [ Okay, Barnes, foot meet mouth. ] It's just obvious you don't live with my roommate.

And yeah, I'd like a coke.

[Saul is a terrible Jew. The actual worst. Not the slightest bit kosher.

Har har.

He arches an eyebrow, then grins and shakes his head.]

Nah. We just didn't have it often while I was growing up, so... learned to live without it, for the most part. But I indulge on occasion.

Maybe it's better he's out of the kitchen, then. What kinda damage do you reckon he could do scrambling eggs?

( Idly, Ellie contemplates hauling herself up on the counter to sit, if there's the barest bit of clear space, lays her hands on the bench to do it, and stops short about a half-second into the motion. Manners and all that, right? She might be a little sheepish as she tries to pretend that isn't what she was about to do. )

Roast lamb's pretty good. ( And by "pretty good" she means "the best thing in life." ) Any kinda lamb, to be honest. My mate Homer, his mum made this great Greek stuff.

( she does not remember many names, because she is hopeless. ) But roast lambs the best. ( She spent a lot of time thinking about food in Hell, it's a problem.

A beat, and then rather abruptly, ) You all fixed up from that virus?

_{( Crys reaches for the bowls, the water gracefully lowers the newly-washed greens into them. From there Crys sets them down on the counter and grabs a pair of utensils to toss the mix. )}

In terms of the city? Not much. But I have managed to catch up on several weeks' worth of gossip.

_{( Which she missed while they were all sick. )}

[She lives with ten children, plus the children in adult bodies the world knows as three quarters of the Fantastic Four.]

Coming right up. Have a seat.

[Sue waves at the couch as she heads for the kitchen. Soda bottles are a little finicky to open with force fields, so this time she's going to use her hands like a normal person.]

I assume you came through the recent mess all right?

[She herself landed on life support, but it's not like she thinks that's worth mentioning.]

I don't get sick. [ He's always had a good immune system. If he didn't heal well, he'd probably be old and broken by now. Well, more old and broken. ] Usually.

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Guess Who's Coming to Dinner [semi-open]

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