14437/Battle Ramen Royale

Battle Ramen Royale
Date of Scene:	17 March 2023
Location:	Kenka - Japanese Restaurant
Synopsis:	Besties have noodles and life lessons. NOODLES.
Cast of Characters:	Tabitha Smith, Illyana Rasputina

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Tabitha Smith has posed:
Normally you can get ramen anywhere. There's enough prepackagaged bowls of the stuff in Tabby's kitchen cupboard back home sharing space with boxes of ceral that the main kitchen in the school would never actually feed the kids.

But being hungry and in the city and near both a ramen shop and where one of if not her closest friend lives means you can knock two birds with one stone.

Hence the invite sent to Illyana, picking the Russian Sorceress up on foot, and the pair humping down to Kenka.

There is a little brief pause of skittishness thoug at the door. Telepath noise in a crowded place gets a bit louder than even on the street. "Still not used to that." she half jokes. But she's had worse thoughts aimed at her in smaller numbers recently. Magik having helped her with in the woods not so long ago.

Of course when one is tasked with eating bulk noodes there is some preprork. One of these is making sure hair is well out of the way. Tabitha had dressed pretty plainly, for her at least, clingy dark bluejeans and her bolero cut comber jacket. The one with BOOM embroideded in over an explosion on her back and lambskin lining peeking out at the collar. Enough midriff and neckline showing a red leather collar with spikes around it matching a belt. Wedge heeled boots capturing teh cuffs with more lamskin lining the insides.

That hair being bound up from her ponytail into a rather almost bookish bun. Some disposable wooden copsticks swiped and used to pin it all up. With her cat eye glasses she almost hits a halfway point between bondage biker chick and librarian.

"Really glad you're able to come out. I dunno if the Battle Ramen Royale allows teams or if it's solo only."she adds when they find space at that big communal table.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Illyana knows most of the street food places in Greenwich Village. Technically, she hasn't got a steady income. Technically that prohibits her from draining her spouse's coffers -- also not exactly flush in a standard way -- by dining out at fancy places, and sticking to the cheaper ones where a dollar stretches a little further. That's the name of the game in NYC where everyone and their dog has a side hustle, probably four, and struggles to make ends meet despite the rent.

Bit of a stretch to acclaim her as broke given how her income flows in funny ways.

"It can be intense, I hear," muses the Russian in that deadpan tone as Tabitha sets herself against the bubbles of humanity. "Hard to be in the city? Better in the country?"

She's in her typical attire; dark all around, except for some reason, a silk robe over her typical fluid black pants is the name of the game. A lounging robe, tied with an obi belt, patterned by sinister cranes who definitely poke eyes out with those deadly beaks. She's the epitome of weird model couture or stole Stephen's clothes. Utterly the latter.

"They must not realize how many starving boys live in this area, da? I think we have a challenge. Long as we have no blobs rolling through, at least..."

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Tabby at least has a job at Harry's and living at the Xavier School means no utility or rent. No overheads, a lot of tips since well. Illyana knows how well Tabitha can fill the denim she is wearing. She doesn't have to hustle, or steal, or worse any more.

She does however have enough squirreling away she can sometimes actually afford to take someone out to eat. Having a friend aroiund, one that she can't read by default. It's an amazing good focus. "It's a struggle sometimes. On the job I can focus on mission. But out here I used to feel the eyes on us metaphorically, now I know when we're being checked out. Country isn't much better. Quiet but no shopping and the stray thoughts can be just as mean if not worse." Two very attractive blonde women get some notice. But the hunger for ramen usually drowns out the thirst.

"I'm actually as worried if not more about my thoughts getting out." she adds as they wait for their orders. "And yeah, Fred coming in here would probably be their lucky day. If he remembers to pay." she adds with a giggle. "And at least if there's spillage of broth. That robe should hopefully dry clean, but just stick it back inth wardrobe. Hubby probably won't remember if it's his mess, or if it's work mess." she adds playfully.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Nothing like Harry's for the vibes, but sometimes it's nice to get out of the sticks. Illyana lives presumably in the big fancy house in the middle of the Village, though Tabby is one of the very few people -- not even her brother counts -- to know of her private city townhouse. It's not too far either from here.

"You keep at it, you get steel inside here. Like Piotr, always pushing to exceed himself." Whether this is good or not, Yana isn't saying. Tabitha can make her own judgments, anyway. "Country is never good. Me, I have enough of that, and I will take the city every time. It is funny considering I come from the back end of nowhere." The empty skies and grounds are not something she's remotely interested in. Give her people, glitz, demons, and... maybe not demons.

"They slip out unexpectedly?" A smirk becomes a laugh, soft and sharp. "Fred pay? I do not think he would. They would need to file an insurance claim." Her hands fall to her hips, and assessing the bombshell, she nods. "Counter or table?"

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Steel inside may actually be coming along slowly. Illyana saw what Tabby did to those bikers in self defense blind rage. That biker pinned to that tree was not subject to an explsion. The girl might hve actually swung it. Let alone the telepathic interrogation and programming.

The private home is always handy when you need to get away. Sometimes even Demon Queens need space from the husband or the minions of Limbo. It's a nice place too!

The counter is chosen and the two blondes manage to claim empty stools next to each other, saves having to pull them together and shuffle people. "I dunno if I could call Roanoke Country. Too much snow tourism. Famous name even if it's the wrong state." she explains. "And yeah, still prefer the city life. Just not on the streets. We all had our own hells." she admits.

The admission of her thoughts slip out. That gets a chuckle. "Well you know me. We all used to get taught to shield out the thoughts for the other telepaths in the shcool. And I don't exactly have a mind that is entirely safe for work... Now that I am one of those telepanths. Well, it's not just Jean or Emma that have to wory about where my mind sometimes drifts."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
That biker deserved it. Morality plays don't belong to Illyana Rasputina, and rightfully she holds no meter stick worth anything to measure out who or what is worthy. Wrong person.

Her passage through the ramen restaurant draws a few looks, but honestly, Tabitha is a whole lot less scary and easier on the eyes, which helps. Her fascinating outfit even earns a few looks at different angles from Yana herself, who then grins. "Roanoke is strange, like small city? Big city? I don't know. Your decisions in this country on far and wide, big or small, defy reason. Village of Place, population 60,000. City of There, population 300. Why?"

Her thoughts are always silent, at least for the most part. The ironclad barrier is simply too dangerous to try to pry open. "Are you happy, though? All this, it is good, da?"

Tabitha Smith has posed:
It's not long before the Battle Ramen Royalle is dished up. Like someone just emptied a massive pot into a ceramic boat and set it before the women. Then floated all the standard toppings on. Pork, vegetables, a few fried eggs. Enough broth to drown Blob.

Tabby would also totally think the opposite, with Illyana being the better looking of the pair. But both are pretty arresting a view at least at a glance.

"Sometimes towns grow and die on weird reasons. Usually money and infrastructure. Ugh, I can't beleive I retained this stuff. But Capitalism." she points out and grabs chopsticks not in her hair, gets a pair for Illyana because as anyone there can see. Tabitha's tiny waist and tummy likely will not finish in time. Eventually but she's not a speed eater.

"I wanna say yes. I should be right. Like I have a home, an apartment technically in a nice area. Family, adopted as they are, and we love each other. Sometimes it's more tags on adult website love but hey, it's only weird when they're sharing DNA. I get plenty of chance to blow things up. Which really does feel as good as the loving sometimes. Better cause most of the time I gotta watch I don't boom by accident. Being constantly beat up, battered, hurt. That might be a problem if I keep rushing into things." she explains and quickly slurps up a long string of noodles. She is not so finessed with the chopsticks despite actually being good at thieving from pockets.

"But enough of me my Demon Queen. How are you holding up. Even you need someone to unload all those frustrations on with no judging." she points out and beams a smile that might need plasma igniting to be any warmer at Tabitha's ex.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The slow, undulating joy of a crowd wrapped up in the aromas of a warm broth should not be underestimated. It holds power; a lot of power, especially for a girl from a poor place that never dreamt of fresh noodles or fresh produce nine months of the year, sliced with abundant choices of meat. Spices were sparingly used, if only because anything past salt is damned expensive on the sub-arctic tundra or the vast Siberian plains. Illyana has been a child of hardship long before the relative security of Xavier's dropped in her lap. Even she can lose herself in the refrain of damn good food once in a while.

The admixture of good company and noodly happiness keeps her not quite drooling, but definitely happy longer than might be expected.

"Our cities died for no jobs, no hope. Everyone leaves when they can. Even from Moscow, they want better than empty apartment, no electricity, sometimes wages. Freedom is an illusion but so important," she sighs.

Still, there is an hour for silence and an hour to talk, and Illyana can go weeks without saying something if she wants to. Easing into that satisfies her often taciturn nature, as she rests her elbow on a counter and waits for more than a few edamame in a bowl to be served up. Not so bad, all said and done. "I hear no but coming. Da, you have many good things to enjoy and celebrate. Even when others can sometimes get caught up in their own heads, as they do. So we may say you have reached a good place, better than most, and nothing coming to end the world tomorrow, is there?"

Her chopsticks are taken in her right hand, smoothed down, rolled. Neither has she got the expertise; chopsticks are weapons to her, not much else except the forays to eating sushi. "I feel that I have left the school at arm's length and maybe, that should change. Find a space to reclaim more of it, now that I have achieved the degree and education Piotr wanted for me."

Tabitha Smith has posed:
As a kid in the trailer park. Tabby probably only slightly ate better. Even if it was mostly cheap microwaveable stuff or loaded with way more sugar than it should have. If definitely wasn't healthy. But it probably was tastier than some of the things Illyana grew up with.

The same things happening to people in Russia gets a nod <<Da, same shit, different smell>> Tabby commiserates in bad but conversational Russian. Some of it had to have sunk in via osmosis. And a fence she knew in Brighton Beach.

"There's probably always something. We've been in space. Saw how close they keep coming." she states and goes back to English. There's an argument her grasp of that is just as bad. "But looks like a job for Superman." she adds and chuckles. "But you know me. Always wanting more."

Illyana's thoughts vocalised get listened to, the girl from Virginia nodding over shared ramen. "You've always got a place at the school. Jean would be happy to let you teach I bet. Defense of the Dark Arts professor. Basic magical studies and theory might actually come in handy. Things like 'Don't read this out loud.'." she states.

That should be the first lesson really. Phonetics are not always your friend.

"Also, right now, you teaching. I'm so doubling down on supressing outbound telepathy. But the sound track is Van Halen's Hot for Teacher."