18163/Cajun Kitchen

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Cajun Kitchen
Date of Scene: 03 June 2024
Location: Main Kitchen
Synopsis: Remy is in the kitchen making gumbo. Ends up talking with Emma and Rhona, who pilfers a 'date' out of the deal.
Cast of Characters: Remy LeBeau, Rhona Lauren, Emma Frost




Remy LeBeau has posed:
     It's sometime in the evening, long after the students that are still on the grounds have eaten, but far from being late at night. The kitchen is mostly quiet after the evening meal, and this is the time that Remy has decided it's his turn to take his 'dinner' break. The Cajun isn't dressed in his usual uniform, instead wearing something much more casual and relaxed, a pair of shorts and a loose fitting t-shirt that has an Xavier logo on the breast. He's in the process of creating a roux in a pot, keeping an eye on it as he chops up what looks to be some sausage.

Rhona Lauren has posed:
Rhona had graduated High School just a couple of weeks ago. She was now awaiting the next entry in to her educational experience. College. At least she had a direction in mind for it, and was already interning at Channel Six in Manhattan. Of course, this had her commuting to and from work, but wasn't an issue with her strange situation regarding her parents back in England. Once a month, her parents would shunt some money in to a bank account that they setup for her, which gave the young Brit the freedom to do pretty much anything she wanted, so long as she stayed in America.

The smell of the cooking food causes the 19 year old, about to turn 20 tomorrow.... to stop outside the kitchen, and peer through its doorway.

She steps within it, wearing a backpack on her shoulders, and a pair of sunglasses up on her hairline, she smiles toward the cook. "Hello." The British girl says. "Are you gainfully employed here now, Mister LeBeau?" She asks, her refined London accent making her words dance through the syllables with a graceful ease.

She steps up to the center counter, and lets the straps of her bag drop down her shoulders one after the other, before it is deposited on to one of the bar stools beside the granite countertop.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would enter in with a cup of something smelling too sweet and too expensive to be within the budget to be allowed for the students. Emma would take a sip of whatever extremely expensive alcohol she had, and would glance over at Rhona. Identifying the girl in her head. "Congratulations on your graduation, Ms. Lauren. Have you decided what your immediate plans after will be? Further education? ENtering the job market? Going to explore the world?" Plenty of possibilities.

Then turning over to Remy, "Mister LeBeau, good to have you with us. Congratulations on your promotion to.. Security for the Institute, I believe from the memo?"

Remy LeBeau has posed:
     Looking up from his chopping, Remy flicks his wrist and embeds the tip of the knife into the wooden cutting board as he starts to gather up the sausage to put aside. "Bonjor, petite. I suppose dat I am, oui. They give me room and board, and I think a paycheck in t'ere somewhere. At least t'e basics are covered, non?" He pulls over some carrots and picks up the knife again to start peeling the outer layer from them as he continues, "You graduated, oui? Looking forward to being a college kid?"

     He looks over at Emma as she arrives and nods, his question being answers by Ms. Frost. "Charles seemed fit to give me the opportunity. I figure he thinks I might know a thing or two about security. I don' know where he gets t'at idea." The Cajun winks one of the black and red eyes, giving both of the women a charming grin. "Interest either of you in some gumbo?"

Rhona Lauren has posed:
With her bookbag removed, the brunette girl slips on to the edge of the bar stool beside the one that now hosts her pack. She sweeps her eyes from Remy, over to Emma, who gets a warm expression from the Brith. "Miss Frost." She says. "Yes, uh... better late than never, I suppose. Most finish at 18, here I am on the verge of my 20s, but... what's done is done. And yes, I took on an internship at Channel Six in Manhattan. I've been studying under April O'Neil. She's... quite the teacher. But I've learned a lot. Honestly, I'd rather go independent with my journalism. What with social media the way it is today, I don't think I need to attach myself to a contract with a company that might attempt to dictate what I can, and cannot, talk about."

She shows a slight smirk, before her eyes dart back to Remy.

He gets a simple dip of her chin, and her fingers tapping on the clean smooth counter's top. "I would absolutely love to try it. I've never had any before..." She shakes her head from right to left, her stare consuming Remy's prepared food from afar.

"To say that I'm curious, would be a rather big understatement."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would nod at Rhona, "Very well. Journalism is a.. Challenging landscape. On a presonal and professional level. It requires a hard look at facts and a willingness often to remain as neutral as possible. To take facts and to forge them together in a coherent narrative, a high level of discretion and awareness.." She would take a sip over of her wine.

"And a willingness to be constantly targetted. I am not saying these as bad things or to warn you off. Merely noting that it is a very challenging pursuit to take in." She does not add 'rewarding' to that list. That is not an Emma thing about the press, which is The Enemy.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
     "Wel den your first time is goin' to be t'e best time, petite. Papa LeBeau had his flaws, but he made a mean gumbo," Remy says as he cuts up the carrots and starts on the onions, peppers, and celery. "T'is right here? T'is is what we in t'e bayou call the holy trinity. You'd be hard pressed to find a decent dish that doesn't have t'is as the base." He smiles at Rhona, "How you wit' t'e spice?"

     He shifts his red eyes over to Emma, "We already constantly targeted. T'at's just a Tuesday." The Cajun smirks slightly with a shake of his head, looking back to Rhona. "Congratulations, chere. You do you, and don' let Ms. Frost scare you much. Lord knows we could use a few reporters on our side of t'ings."

Rhona Lauren has posed:
Once more, Rhoan sweeps her stare over to the White Queen, she shows her a happy expression, before simply shaking her head. "I won't have a problem staying unbiased. I barely like anything as it is." She responds, a hand reaching up to adjust the collar of her dark purple t-shirt, and the leather choker she's wearing around her neck. "I mean, which is to say... I struggle to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. Danger doesn't worry me either. Why just the other day, I was down in Bushwick, investigating the Sentinel situation. I came across something quite awful, a secret lair of a super villain, I believe. But before I could get back to my car to even upload what I found to the internet, I was jumped by an absolutely massive Sentinel..."

She grimaces at this thought, her shoulders rising, as she takes in a breath between her dark red painted lips. "I was lucky enough that my shields held to keep me safe, and were strong enough to bash the thing in to submission... I'm telling you, something strange is happening down there in Brooklyn. It simply isn't safe for anyone down there. Mutant or otherwise..."

She feels her stomach growl at the scent of the food, and Remy's words, which has her smiling warmly toward the Cajun. "Spice doesn't bother me. I took a trip to Mexico with some friends for summer vacation last year... I imagine if I can survive that, I can handle your spices too, right?" She asks him, obviously shining the suave man one of those 'young girls who is more than moderately taken' by the man's charming persona.

"If not, well... the fridge has every cold drink I could desire, I suppose..."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would laugh, "A fair point and a reasonable way to go about it." She would hold up her empty goblet of wine over in a salud. "And I can't fault your logic there." Remy gets a rare laugh from Emma. "True enough. I suppose that we're at the point where it doesn't feel like terror anymore. Just acceptance." She muses - possibly slightly inebriated, or more contemplative at this stage of the evening.
    "There are plenty of threats out there. And things will get worse before they get better. You're brave for wanting to get out there and find information and stories to spread about." Emma does, however, make no move over to accept Remy's offer of cooking. "It doesn't do well for my palette, but thank you Mister LeBeau. I'll settle for now us having threats remain off school grounds." If even that could be achieved.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
     Remy arches his brow as he looks to Rhoan and listens to her story involving the sentinel, but doesn't say anything until she talks about the spice, giving her a brief hint of a smile, "I guess we find out what you can handle, non?" The Cajun tosses the cut up veg into the pot and stirs it into the roux to simmer and soften. "I'm sure t'ere is somet'ing in t'ere to quench the fires in your mouth, should you need it."

     He looks over to Emma and nods, "Well, t'at's a loss for your palette, t'en. Fair enough t'ough. I'll do my best to keep you and everyone safe. Least I can do."

Rhona Lauren has posed:
The British girl just beams a smile toward Emma, before softly shaking her head. "I just have to figure out how I want to do this stuff. There are ... websites that are geared toward journalists. SubStack is one, but I believe it has a challenging barrier of entry, especially for someone my age and at my experience level. But... if I start now, I can hopefully build an audience of people who enjoy my writing well enough to possibly join my Stack." She drums her fingers upon the polished smooth countertop, before adding. "Obviously Youtube is an option for video content. I'm not that great at editing, but that could come in time. It's a bit of a cluster fuck when it comes to being able to be discovered upon it, however..." She smirks then, before her eyes drift back toward the food, and its Chef. She affords him another sweet smile before she laughs softly. "Right. message received..."

Using the palms of her hands, the young woman pushes herself off of her stool again, and spins around behind it. She makes the few steps over to the pair of refrigerators that house the food and drinks. One door is pulled open, and her eyes begin to scan the contents.

"I don't really want to get blasted to pieces by a Sentinel, but, I would like to showcase the horrors of what it's like to be hunted by them. I got a first hand taste of that already..." She notes, as her hand dips inside the fridge. She plucks out a bottle of grape soda, and lets the door sweep shut with a thud.

Giving the can a couple of satisfying clicks of the tab snapping back against its cold top, the Brit pops the tab, letting it hiss out as soda is prone to do.

"Now then, I think I'm ready for this spicy treat, Mon Ami." She tells Remy, flashing him another big smile, as she slips back on to her seat, and takes a sip of the bubbly drink.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would nod over at Rhona, "Yes, I don't invest in newspapers, so I'm among the last ones that you should make inquiries with. Interning is regardless an excellent idea. You'll have to learn doing a little bit of everything. And you'll learn the best from those working in the field. A competent, active newsroom is an excellent place. There are quite a few around. If you do well in your internship with.. Channel Six.. Then it will be a good way to get a recommendation and move to another newsroom if you feel you want to pursue such things in a more traditional journalistic capacity."

Emma would flat out admit she didn't know what Stack was, nor did she care unless she was investing in the company or one of her subsidiaries was buying it out. The thought would be dismissed from her mind over. "Yes, thank you again for the offer. I believe it is a loss as well." SHe was sincere. Just some didn't like spicy foods. "And I'm sure that someone with your reputation will be quite effective." That was also honest. Because there were few better at catching those that would get in as one that was so skilled with it.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
     Remy starts to fry up the sausage he cut up in a pan, letting it simmer and caramelize on one side before flipping them over to let the other side brown. In between, he keeps stirring the pot. "I don' know much about journalism. 'Fraid t'at is out of my wheelhouse to comment on, or any of that online stuff." The Cajun taps the pot with the spoon that he is cooking with, "T'is t'ough? T'is I know, and you gonna love it, chere. I keep it tame for you, non? Don' need to be accused of abusing ya."

     He looks back to Emma and nods, "Pretty much what I said to Charles. Ain' no better way to catch a t'ief dan with a t'ief...and since I know most if not all the ways to break in here, I know where t'ings need to tighten up. I appreciate the vote of confidence, Ms. Frost."

Rhona Lauren has posed:
What Emma says to Rhona, causes her to just gently laugh in a melodic fashion. "God, no. I'd never want to chain myself to a news desk in a medium such as television news. It's basiclly turned to dust, and is just waiting to be blown away by the sands of time..." She shoots Emma a friendly smirk, before shaking her head just once side to side. "The reason I wanted the little gig at C6, was because it was with April. She has her own podcast, and her own website where she releases articles, and exposes on all manner of issues in and around the Manhattan area. I loved her podcast, so when I heard about the possibility she'd take me beneath a proverbial wing? I was ... well, excited."

Another sip of her soda is taken, before the young woman with one day left of being a teenager, speaks up again. "I want to be fully independent. I think I have enough of a nest egg built up to permit myself that luxury too. One that I am certainly thankful for, even if it has come at an odd cost..." She is a bit vague about that, and doesn't elaborate on what the cost was.

At Remy, she smiles again, her arms folding on the edge of the counter. "Journalism isn't so hard to 'get'. Gain a love for writing, express your opinions with poise, and eloquence. Then... well... find something that is unjust, and needs to be exposed to the world." She casts the man a grin, as she watches him prepare his New Orleans dish.

"By the way... I watched a video just the other day about an amusement park in the Big Easy, named Jazz Land. Apparently it went out of business some time ago, after Hurricane Katrina. Since I'm in to the urban exploration side of Youtube, and since well... obviously that's your stomping ground, it made me think of you. I was curious if you ever haunted its rides, prior to them actually become haunted for real."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would muse over, "Do as you wish. I wish you well, Ms. Lauren. I hope that your enthusiasm takes you far, and that you remain connected to the school in some way." She would glance at her empty goblet. "However, for now I am out of this lovely thing to drink and it's not fair to our dear school's founder to try and raid his own inventory for something on a late night when I'm bored. Ta." She would sashay on out. Definitely inebriated.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
     "Jazz land?" Remy gets this look on his face that is pure elation and joy. The red eyes of his grow big and the grin that spreads on his face shows the pearly whites of his teeth. "Petite, I spent as much time as I could there. Dat place was ripe wit' t'e tourists, and tourists meant poorly guarded pockets. I could have told you every single way to get into t'at place wit'out paying. Bring's a tear to my eye t'at it's no more."

     He shrugs a shoulder, looking a bit nostalgic for a moment before sighing and getting back to the gumbo. He dumps the sausage, and some of the shredded chicken he already had prepped into the pot and gives it another stir to make sure everything is mixed in well.

    He waves as Emma leaves. "I don' t'ink I have ever seen t'at woman without a drink of some form in her hand. Amazing how she stays vertical."

Rhona Lauren has posed:
The British girl simply watches the cooking as it further develops, though Emma's departure does draw her eyes toward the blonde haired woman. She smiles toward her, and offers a parting 'Goodbye, Miss Frost' before she regards the Cajun again.

She laughs softly. "She reminds me of Cersei Lannister, from Game of Thrones.. Only much nicer. She just has that intimidating stare..."

She follows those words with a half smirk, before she's soon listening to him regail her with tails of the park that no longer conducts business. She laughs at some of what he says, gently shaking her head side to side. "I'm sorry it fell apart too. It seems to be a common trend, as I've watched so many tours of various parks here in the States, and abroad. One after another, brought down by accidents within the park, or mother nature herself... in the case of Jazz Land. I guess Six Flags took it over, but it wasn't enough to keep it afloat, and they forced the city to buy it from them somehow... But yes, I'm quite fond of amusement parks. I even put in an application to work at Disney World last summer, but I never heard back..." She frowns at that last part, before reaching for her soda can again.

"You're security now? Does that mean you're going on patrols? If you need a partner, I have my bow stowed in the cabinet in the garage. I'll... I don't know... fend off would-be attackers with a weapon from the middle ages, if you need the help." Oh, the smitten youth.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
     "I've never watched it," Remy says as he sticks the lid on the pot to let it simmer and cook. "That's the one with the guy that always dies in those shows he is in, right, petite? The one from that movie with the little people and a ring?" He shrugs, propping up his elbows onto the counter and using them to brace his chin as he looks over to Rhona.

     The Cajun gives the soon to be twenty year old a smile, "My patrols pretty much involve me sitting in front of a monitor and watching to make sure nothing untoward happens. I walk the ground on occasion, and if you want to walk with me I wouldn't object. As far as your bow, I don't think that will be necessary, chere. If something were to happen, I'd make sure you got far enough away to stay out of harm..that would be my first priority."

     He shrugs, moving over to the fridge and looking for something to drink himself. "Same there isn't any bourbon in here. I get why they don't keep any around where the students can get it, since our students have....ways. Still, sometimes a man wants a drink."

Rhona Lauren has posed:
The talk of Game of Thrones, and Lord of the Rings, has the young woman sitting up a little straighter upon the edge of her stool. "Sean Bean." She replies to him, grinning lightly. "Boromir, Son of Denethor, the ruling steward of Gondor... at least during the war of the ring." She trails off there, before her grin returns, along with another shake of her head from side to side. "I had aspirations of becoming a Tolkein Scholar when I was younger. Those movies were a big impact upon my brother, and he thusly pushed them on to me... which lead me to reading the novels as often as I can. maybe not as much as Sir Christopher Lee managed to, which he said he did once a year, but... still. I've gone through them... eight times?" She took a second to count quickly within her head, her eyes staring up at the ceiling, before they dropped back down to him. "It's my absolute most nerdy affection..."

The talk of the security has her bobbing her head in a pair of nods toward him across the counter from her. "No bow then, and perhaps not as many patrols as I envisioned. But I'd be more than happy to keep you company on them, all the same." She tells him, grinning again, before she glances to her left, and points in the direction of the western side of the house.

"Logan's apartment over the garage..." She loud-whispers over the counter to Remy. "That's where all the booze is hiding. But enter at your own risk... 'The Breakstone Slasher' is nothing to be taken lightly. Even the Balrog of Moria would fear those blades..."

Another smirk is shown to the Cajun, before the young woman raises her grape soda up to her darkly red hued lips for another sip from its bubbly contents.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Oh no," Remy says with a vigorous shake of his head. "I'm not about to go fuck around and find out with Logan. Pardon my French." He winks. "I'm good at what I do, but what he does is much worse and he is much better at. I value my body parts way to much for me to go try and steal his booze."

     He grabs a soda from the fridge, orange, and pops open the car to take a sip. "So, This 'Lord of the Rings', is it any good? Worth a watch? Maybe now that I have time to lay about and kick my feet up I spend time in the rec room watching a movie or two if I don't go into the city and find a nice game of cards, non?"

     He smiles, "I'm not going to tell you no, chere, as I company would be nice, but you don't have to."

Rhona Lauren has posed:
Rhona deposits her can back down upon the counter, her free hand dragging a coaster from the little wooden holder over to slip it beneath. She darts her eyes down to the can, before they bounce back up to Remy's reds. She flashes him another smile, before she tilts her head. "You've not seen the Lord of the Rings films? The Peter Jackson films?" She asks him, almost as though she doesn't believe him. "This seems utterly impossible..."

She draws in a breath, parts her lips for a moment as to suggest she was about to say something, before she closed them again. There-after, she shakes her head from side to side. "That won't do... We have them on the school streaming service. I'd be happy to watch them with you, though they are eye magnets. Once others hear the music, and the dialogue, they'll all come to the television like moths to a flame..." She states dramatically, perhaps doing her best Lady Galadriel voice, but at least her British accent gives her some street cred with it.

"And you're wise to avoid Logan's domicile..." She sighs wistfully. "If this were back home, I could buy my own booze. But ... this wild country, and it's silly laws." She smirks at him. "Perhaps in a year I'll buy you a bottle of bourbon. But in the mean time... I'd suggest the Fellowship of the Ring, and some of that delicious food you're whipping together."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Oh right, the food! Remy looks over to the pot and gets back up from leaning on the counter to go check on it. The smell of the gumbo when he lifts the lid fills the kitchen with its richness and he smiles, "I think she's just about done."

     He gives the pot a stir and then replaces the lid before returning to his seat, "I've never watched them. When you live like I do, you don't tend to go to the movies. Hell at the place I was staying before here I didn't even have a tv. Not that I was there all that often, I was usually in the back room of some bar playing a game of poker." He shrugs a shoulder and smiles to the co-ed. He cocks his head slightly to the side when she looks like she is about to say something, but when she doesn't he nods, "We could do that. Get a couple of bowls, hijack the TV in the rec room, and watch a movie." He glances upstairs, likely towards where the staff rooms are, "I might have a bottle hidden away, if it hasn't been pilfered yet, and god knows I don't exactly stick to the laws all that well."

Rhona Lauren has posed:
Rhona lets out another soft laugh, shaking her head side to side again, her right hand shooting up to push back a few strands of her dark hair behind her right ear, the bulk of her brunette locks tied back in a haphazard ponytail behind her shoulders. "I didn't see them until the prequels came out, the Hobbit films. My brother showed them all to me then, to prepare me for those... The Hobbit films... are a bit of a quality drop, but I still absolutely adore them for what they are, and the extended versions for those do help improve them dramatically, as well."

She watches him move back to the pot to check on it, before she glances to her right at the sound of a couple students walking past the kitchen toward the main foyer. When she looks back, and he suggests he might have some bourbon hiding somewhere, she grins mischievously at him.

"Well it is summer vacation. If that isn't a reason enough to enjoy your time a bit more, I can't say I know a better reason."

She flashes him another grin, before she reaches out for her backpack at her side. "I can go check the rec room, if you'd like, see if it's setup and ready for a showing of one of the greatest films of all time..."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Prequels? Just how many movies are there?" Remy asks with a quirk of his brow. The Cajun sets his drink down and starts to rummage around in the kitchen to find a pair of bowls and some silverware, "Your summer vacation. I don't get one. Truth be told, I don't even know if I get any vacation days. I never did read the contract..." Remy admits with a shrug. "Still, can't be any worse than a deal with Sinister."

     Finding the bowls, Remy checks the pot again and satisfied he turns off the heat, "Oh, chere, you are going to love this. This might be my best batch yet." He looks over to Rhona and smiles, "I made it mild, but I'll bring some Tabasco should you want to bring up the heat. You go on to the rec room, and I'll go see if I can't find something to wash this down with. Meet ya in there in a moment."