4109/Connecting over Foine Food

Connecting over Foine Food
Date of Scene:	12 November 2020
Location:	O'Shughnessy's Restaurant
Synopsis:	Cindy and Peter meet for a no-costumes-allowed meeting to try and relate to each other as regular people.
Cast of Characters:	Peter Parker, Cindy Moon

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Peter Parker has posed:
The Irish restaurant had many things going for it. It was local. It was familiar. Uncle Ben had brought the family there often. He probably got a lot of material from this place.

And it either had a cool or warm breeze, depending on the season.
Air circulation was key.

St. Patrick's Day was on the other side of the year, so the business was local people, mostly people from the burg. But a Parker was always welcome, and the rosy-cheeked matronly lady had wished Peter well, and made playful noises when he mentioned he was meeting someone here.
Faith MacCree smiled knowingly and strolled off to make the rounds in the dining room.

Peter had reached out through Spider-Comm, using the private direct-message option to Silk.

<O'Shughnessy's in Queens. Waypoint attached. Will 6 PM work?>

Cindy Moon has posed:
<Sure. C U there.>

She spent some time taking a look around online to see what kind of place it was. Once she gets a feel for it, she ends up dressing in basic jeans and a red top, and then stressing over whether she's going too casual.

She's not exactly the sort to blend in an Irish pub, but she's doing her best. She walks in around 6:10, looking about for Pete.

Peter Parker has posed:
The young man standing on the bench in the foyer looks...not very impressive. The superhero physique is hidden under baggy jeans, a loose flannel jacket, a windbreaker jacket.
Short brown hair. Brown eyes that moved from thing to thing, place to place, never staying in one place for long.
He stands up as Cindy arrives. What are the odds of a young Korean woman walking into an Irish joint in Queens?

He steps forward, and although it is not that powerful in here, there is that Pull. But it is subtle, the warm breeze carrying it away from him.

"Hi...Peter Parker." He couldn't remember if he'd told her his real name, decided not to chance it.

Cindy Moon has posed:
She's definitely the easier one to pin. She looks over, and she knows it's him, for the same reason. She blushes just faintly. "I'm sure you already know mine. Cindy Moon." She gives it anyway. Just in case.

"So, Peter? Pete? What's your preference?" she asks, running fingers through her hair on the side in a bit of nervous gesture.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter chuckles. "Whichever you wish to use is fine."
A rather matronly woman with orange-red hair strolls up. "And is this the lassie?"
Peter sighs. "Cindy, I'd like you to meet Faith MacCree, the co-owner of this fine establishment. Faith, this is Cindy."
Faith gives her a wide smile. "Well, then, it's good t' meet ye, and welcome. Mr. Parker, we have th' table of honor all ready for th' two o' ye."
Peter chuckled. "All right, thank you." He looks back to Cindy. "What do you think of the place at first sight?"

Cindy Moon has posed:
Cindy considers a moment. "I think you're a Pete. Peter sounds too formal." She looks over at the Irish woman and gives a wave. "Thanks!"

The "table of honor" comment gets her to look surprised, as she looks back to Peter. "And here I thought this was just a casual dinner. And it seems fine, least as far as I can tell. I've never really done an Irish place before."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter chuckled as they arrive at a fairly nondescript wooden table with four chairs. The wood is old, but well-seasoned with stain and worn with years.

"Faith tends to be a bit melodramatic. But when I was younger, I would eat here with my aunt and uncle." He pulled out a chair for Cindy. "It was Uncle Ben's favorite table, and he always tipped very well."

Cindy Moon has posed:
"Ahh, that explains it." She sits down, smiling when he pulls out the chair for her. "So, you're going to have to help me with the menu and some suggestions. Since you know the place. Sounds like you've been coming here forever."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter nods. "Irish cuisine is a lot of farm food. Lamb, pork, poultry, and fish, primarily mackerel. Vegetables are plenty, but potatoes have been a staple for centuries. A lot of creams in many recipes, too. Because milk, cream, butter. If there's a particular type of meat or fish you like, let me know and I'll find some possibilities." He looks down at the menu, glad it hasn't changed. When you have a winning formula that has lasted for decades, why tinker?

"Do you have a favorite drink? I'm partial to the Arnold Palmer - half iced tea, half lemonade."

Cindy Moon has posed:
"Korean food has a lot of noodles. Lots of fish, some chicken. Lots of vegetables, but probably very different vegetables. Nary a potato in sight. Not that I'd ever say no to a french fry." Cindy considers at his question. "Never tried that, so sure, let's do one of those."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter nodded as a waitress stepped up, her name tag identifying her as CARA. "Hello, Peter, Cindy. My name is Cara, and I'll be your waitress. Would you like to start with drinks?"
"Uhm, yes, two Arnold Palmers."
Cara looked wistful. "Of course. I remember fondly." She writes down the order, then continues, "Would you like a minute to think?"
"Yes, please."
"Very well, then." And then, in an odd show of emotion, She touches Peter's shoulder for a moment. "We all miss your uncle."
Peter nodded. "Yeah. I do, too."

As the waitress walks away, Peter smiles apologetically. "I...lost my uncle over two years ago. It's...part of why I do what I do."

Cindy Moon has posed:
"I'm sorry to hear that." Cindy will reach out to squeeze his hand, if he lets her. "At least your folks didn't ditch you off for training with a kinda-crazy old guy." She forces a smile that she doesn't really feel for that.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter smiles, and does not pull away. Even at the little flash of heat at the nape of his neck and traveling down his spine.
Talk about inappropriate distractions.

"Thanks. My parents...well, they left the country when I was four, left me with my Aunt May and Uncle Ben. I think both of them made me who I am today...on a personal level, of course. Not the Spider-part, that came later."
He looked at the menu. "No noodle dishes here. Irish stew here is made with mutton, sheep of basically older age, potatdoes, onions, carrots, parsley. It's very filling, very robust, especially on cold nights. If you want something lighter, there's bacon and cabbage - thick bacon boiled with cabbage and potatdoes. Another good one is the pan-fried salmon with a side of colcannon. That's like a mix of mashed potatdoes and kale."

He chuckles. "If you like french fries, there's the fish-and-chips, or 'one and one' in Dublin. Beer-battered fried fish and 'chips', which are thick fries. That's a thing to remember. 'Chips' refer to fries. Actual chips, like tortilla or potato chips, are called 'crisps.'"

Cindy Moon has posed:
"You're going to have to roll me out of here, as heavy as this food is." Cindy quips. Though it's not like she doesn't burn a ton of calories; web-slinging certainly counts as a high-impact workout.

Her eyes widen as she considers prospects. "Um. Let's...try the fish and chips. Or, that's what I'll try." French fries and fish. That should be safe enough.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter nods. "All right. They use cod for the fish for that, but they cook it up nice here."
He raises a hand, and Cara is there in five seconds flat. "Ready to order?"
Peter nods. "The lady will have one-and-one. I'll have the Irish stew, please. Salad, oil and vinegar."
Cara nodded, then looked to Cindy. "Salad, and if so, what dressing?"

Cindy Moon has posed:
Another momentary widened-eye look. Somehow she doubts sesame oil and soy sauce are on the menu. Or ginger-garlic. "I'll have the same as him." She covers the brief look of panic with another smile.

Still hasn't let go with that hand, though. Maybe she forgot.

Peter Parker has posed:
Cara nods. "Have that right out for you both." She smiles, then steps away towards the kitchen.

Peter looked to Cindy, also seeming not to notice...or care...that his hand is in hers.

"Well...Cindy...tell me a little about yourself. Anything at all, really."

Cindy Moon has posed:
"Sure!" Back on stable footing; this is a topic she actually feels qualified about! "Lets see...took tae kwon do, hockey, and figure skating lessons when I was young. Got into k-pop and Pokemon when I got older." Yes, she actually admits to being a Pokemon fan.

"Then, well, the whole spider thing. You know. And THEN my parents ditching me to have me train with the aforementioned crazy guy."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter nods thoughtfully. "I was meaning to ask about that. It was...two years ago, last March. My class went to visit the OsCorp building as part of a field trip..."

Cindy Moon has posed:
Cindy had suspected some, and the mention is putting it together in her head. "And you got bit. And then you flinched, and threw the spider away." She's remembering the event, all-too well.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter nods. "...Were you there? I knew of some people there, but...at the time, I was trying to avoid a couple of people, Carl and Flash. So I vaguely remember others outside of the class, but...nothing concrete." He looked down, realized they were holding hands, and he squeezed her hand lightly.

Cindy Moon has posed:
"Yeah. I mean, I was tanking my classes. We didn't really move in the same circles." She squeezes back, maybe a little harder. "You got bit, and you flinched. And the spider landed on me." Yep, Peter. All your fault. Not that she seems to mind.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter sighed. "I wasn't feeling too hot and left quickly. That was when the powers started to kick in. About...five minutes or so after the bite. I just...bailed."

Cindy Moon has posed:
Cindy can't help but smile some. "I can sympathize. Believe me." If ANYONE in the world knows what it's like other than Peter, it's her. Same bug. Same day. "Felt like crap, and then...weirdness."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter sighs. "And then I messed up. I saw these awesome gifts...and the first thing I thought of was how I could make money off of it. So I checked out what I could do with it. So...I took a wrestling challenge with a wrestler names Crusher Hogan. Beat him easily and made $100 in three minutes."

Cindy Moon has posed:
"Huh! Wish I'd thought of that. I just tried to hide everything." Cindy says, looking back to Peter. "So, free hundred. Not a bad go, though you're kinda skinny for a wrestler."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter nods, but the pleasant mood is gone. "I got a promoter, was setting up matches. In a year, I would be in the ring with Seamus or Booker T. And..."
He stops.
"...and while I was thinking about how I was going to move Uncle Ben and Aunt May into a mansion...I see this guy running towards me. A cop is chasing him. They are going to run right past me. And...I DID NOTHING..."

He is about to talk further, but Cara arrives with the salads and he pauses until she leaves.
"I let him run right past. Told the cop it wasn't my business to do his job."

Cindy Moon has posed:
Cindy frowns a little. "Well, you're not police, Pete. If you'd gotten involved, you might have gotten arrested. Or outed, for what you can do." She tries to be the logical voice here.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter looks down. "I could have just stuck my foot out and tripped him. That's all it would have taken. But I didn't."
He rubs his face. He's told this often, but it doesn't seem to help.
"Three weeks later, someone tries to rob the house while I'm out doing some promotional thing. The crook was looking for old Mob money, but it had been destroyed long ago by silverfish. When my Uncle challenged him...the thief shot him. He died five feet from the front door."
Yeah...this still hurts.
"I come home, find out what happened, and go after the guy. I knock him cold, grab him to knock his block to Yonkers...and it's THE SAME GUY who ran past me."
He gives a little shudder, the cold-chill kind of shudder.
"If I had done something, Uncle Ben would still be alive. But I didn't"

Cindy Moon has posed:
Cindy's expression is just stricken. It's pretty easy to read her expressions, and she doesn't react quickly enough to hide it. "Oh, Pete. I'm so sorry." Her hand holding his squeezes harder, trying to reassure, trying to be there for him.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter nods. "Well...that is the last time I was ever selfish when it came to these gifts. I had a DUTY...to use them responsibly, to help people. I can help...so I do. It's why I nod off in class half the time. But if someone goes home instead of the hospital or the morgue...then pass the No-Doz."

Cindy Moon has posed:
"I understand. I didn't try to get involved till the Battle of New York. And then I nearly got myself killed for it." She blushes just a little. "I'd seen Spider-Man on the news. Thought I could try to help like he did."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter blinks, startled. "Wait...I *inspired* you?" He looks surprised. He sometimes had no idea how his actions affected other people. He just never thought about it.

Cindy Moon has posed:
She pitches her voice lower, so she's less likely to be overheard. "Well, /duh/. Girl goes and gets herself spider powers, and here's the one and only Spider-Man out there being a big damn hero? Helps to give ideas. Got my /butt/ kicked, though, and that's when Ezekiel showed up and apparently talked my parents into letting him train me." She sounds a little bitter about that part.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter tilts his head. "Ezekiel? Never heard of him, but he was your trainer?"
He paused. "It sounds like you didn't think much of him."

Cindy Moon has posed:
Cindy sighs. "More that I didn't think much of my PARENTS deciding that it would be peachy to just ditch me and let this guy train me. So, I dropped out of school and went into full-time Spider-training." She says. "Didn't leave much room for any kind of a real life."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter winces. "Yikes. Are you still in touch with your family, Cindy? I just realized I've never even heard about them..."

Cindy Moon has posed:
She shakes her head. "No. They just...ditched me." She sighs, and shrugs. "Anyway...so, that was the next two years. And then I guess I "graduated" the whole spider-thing. Left, got a job...and decided to put that two years training to some good use."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter nodded. "Yikes. And I thought MY combat training was weird. What kind of work do you do, Cindy?"

Cindy Moon has posed:
"I'm an intern over at the Daily Planet. It's nothing great, but it pays my bills. Helps that Ezekiel set me up with an apartment of my own. Where'd YOU learn how to do all this stuff?" She asks, curiously. She FINALLY releases his hand, to take a bite of her salad.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter had the good grace to blush a little. "I...am kind of a smart guy. I can't spin webs like you apparently can...maybe there was a variation in the DNA marker. But I built mechanical web-shooters, reverse-engineered a synthetic spidersilk. I have a lab in the basement of the house where I put it all together."

Cindy Moon has posed:
"I'd be screwed if I had to do something like that. Thankfully mine are built-in. Them and the claws." She takes another bite of her salad. "And I remember even back then you were crazy smart. I'm the girl who was barely passing."

Peter Parker has posed:
Okay, that's another hell of a knock. She knew him? If she knew him, why the hell didn't he know HER?

The answer was simple. He was a geek with Coke-bottle glasses who spent his free time running or hiding. And the fact that girls only seemed interested in him for his notes, or to play pranks on him. But that hadn't been true, either.

He thumped his head on the table. "For a smart guy, I'm a complete GOOBER."

Cindy Moon has posed:
HE was also the genius while SHE was in all the remedial classes. Mostly from not paying attention. "I dunno. I happen to think you're pretty cool." She grins. "In and out of the suit."

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter is about to respond when the food arrives.

Cara places the wide bowl on Peter's side, then a large plate on Cindy's. On hers was a rather substantial fillet of cod, breaded finely and fried to a golden color. Next to it was a large pile of fries...chips, sorry. In the UK, fries are chips, chips are crisps.
Cara smiled to the both of them, said, "Enjoy your meal, and let me know if you need anything," and then made herself scarce.
"Mind if I ask for a moment of silence? I've said grace as long as I can remember, but I'm not going to make you do anything."

Cindy Moon has posed:
Cindy peeks over at his bowl, and then looks back. "Of course!" She's not an overly religious girl herself, but she's more than willing to indulge.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter doesn't make a big production of it. He simply tilts his head forward slightly.
"Bless us, our Lord, for these Thy gifts from Thy bountry through Christ our Lord, Amen."
He may be Presbyterian, but his family is Irish Catholic, and old rituals die hard.
"All right...eat up. I think that one you can eat with your hands."

Cindy Moon has posed:
She looks surprised. "Really? I mean, the fries, sure. But the fish?" She aske, looking down to it. Fried fish, Irish-style, is very different from the Korean-style she's more used to.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter nods. "Just pull it apart. There's no bones in there.There's salt, pepper, tartar sauce on the side. Even horseradish, if you want a little kick to it."