9293/Soup Hunting

Soup Hunting
Date of Scene:	26 December 2021
Location:	Pugsley Creek
Synopsis:	While digging up fodder for a crawfish boil, Michael is happened upon by Rogue. It goes well!
Cast of Characters:	Michael Erickson, Rogue

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Michael Erickson has posed:
    He's down at the creek. Down at the creek.

    Why is he down at the creek?

    The alien, the Astronomy professor. You know, the one who also gives lessons about galactic politics and is atonishingly open to talking about the most horrible (or beautiful) aspects of the galaxy should a student ask. He's down at the creek with waterproof fishing waders on, crouching in the cold water, bundled up as though he might be afraid he's going to freeze in an instant. He wears heavy gloves up to his elbows. So what, in the Hell, is he doing by the creek?

    Most people wouldn't. But a good Mississippi girl would. A large bucket set up by the creekside? A cooler packed with ice? There can be only one, strange, /unprobable/ reason for why he's down here, turning over stones, a bottle of /squeeze cheeze/ in one hand. Professor Erickson....is hunting for crawdads.

Rogue has posed:
Good thing Rogue is from Mississippi!

She appears on the trail, holding a leather leash that her yellow lab dog is on the end of. The dog is leading her along down the pathway toward the creek area. She's wearing a dark green wool hat over her two-toned white and brown hair, holding the wealth of locks down around her face as she stares down at her phone in her free hand. Wearing a suede jacket with a white puffy collar and sleeve cuffs, a pair of blue jeans and some boots that goe up to mid shin level, Rogue just bounds down the trail with her dog sniffing and wagging his tail as he is the first to see Michael.

Rogue looks up when she hears him though and it takes her a second before she smirks. She and Jeepers head over to where he is.

"Ya aren't thinkin' drownin' yourself, are you?" She asks him in a casually teasing way.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Not today," he calls from where he crouches digging about in the rocks and silt - plucking out a torpid shellfish, tossing it into the bucket. And another. It's supposed to be difficult, you know, especially in the dark, but he's just...plucking them out. Spirallng away into the bucket. Clatter-splash.

    "What about you? Out here on a run?" Michael looks up to peer at the creature. "Handsome animal."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue and Jeepers walk to the edge of the creek. Jeepers instantly starts to lap at the cold water as the Belle just stares at the man, and what he's doing. She grins at the sight of it. "A run? Nah. Just takin' Jeeps out for a walk. He likes t'get out of the house and come back here to bark at ... everythin'." She says as her eyes watch the man distractedly gathering up the water life.

"Boy. I don't think I've seen anyone do that since I was like... knee high to a grass hopper." She says with a up-play on her southern accent, on purpose. She just grins at him.

"What exactly are you plannin' t'do with those lil buggers?" She inquires as Jeepers looks around, then barks at a rabbit across the creek.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    The question makes him chuckle; he looks up at her from his crouching, rising to his feet. Smirks at her, water cold and swirling about his calves. "You're from Missouri, aren't you? Surely you've had a crawdad boil before." Something weird about an alien talking about crawdads rather than crayfish. "I haven't had any in a long time. Reminds me of my days on campaign."

    He pauses to squint at the the dog, then the rabbit. "...I should get a brace of those, too."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue gives Jeepers leash a little soft tug to get the dog to stop barking, and he obeys for the time being. He walks around the edge of the creek as the Belle looks to Michael.

"Missouri?" She asks, pronouncing the i at the end more as an a though. Her head shakes side to side once. "Nah. I'm from Mississippi.... Little crap town called Meridian. My dad was from St. Louis though... so close." She smirks again at him.

Her green eyes go across the creek, the rabbit ran off in to the woods. "So you're just out here doin' a forest grab bag on stuff ya wanna eat?" She asks then, before nodding once. "I can dig it. Logan would probably approve too." She grins lightly.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Another laugh. "You know," he says, tossing the bottle of squeeze-cheeze onto the bank, "I actually love hunting. I was heavily trained in that sort of thing as part of my military training, living rough while in the field. Hence..." He points to the bucket. "They remind me of taakalan. So delicious."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue looks to the bottle that he tosses on to the shore, then to the bucket he's gesturing toward. She gently nods her head. "Yeah.. huntin' was big where I was from. All the pot bellied fellas would dress up in their camo, then put on a orange vest... which seemed counter-productive t'the camo, but whatever. They'd all climb inta their giant trucks, then go off inta the woods for a week or so. Some'a them even shot each other by accident." She says with a grin.

Her eyes go back to him then. "There's some wilderness trainin' you could get in on, if that space crap isn't doin' enough t'keep ya busy around here... Ya might be able t'offer some tips t'the lil' ones."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Keeps them from getting shot on the way to the tree stands," Michael explains. "Though otherwise, yes, seems strange - as for the survival training, don't you have enough with Professor Logan and yourself out here? Though, cc'mon. 'Space crap'?" He smirks. "I'm /from/ another planet. What've you got against space?"

    Oh no. He's asked. HE ASKED.

Rogue has posed:
Jeepers walks over to the bottle that he tossed on the shore to sniff at it. It gets a lick too. The dog moves on though and tries to look in the bucket, he's very curious about what's in it...

Rogue smirks at this, her head shaking. "I don't teach nothin'. Not yet anyhow. My goal is t'get on as a teacher here next fall though... Once I'm graduated and all that jazz..."

The bit about Space, has Rogue grinning and looking away. When she looks back a second later her eyes widen... "Eeeeverything." She says dramatically. "It's endless, allegedly. It's fully'a jerks, clearly. It's full'a dark matter, which last I heard, nobody even knows what that is... It's full'a radiation, which is killer on the skin, if ya hadn't heard. There's no 'up' in space... Uh. Black holes. Solar flares." She looks skyward for a second, then motions up. "If the sun blew up we wouldn't even know about it for six whole minutes! Space is the worst.... I like oxygen, and it's got none!"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Uh-huh." He smirks at her, then, and goes to pick up the bucket FULL of dazed, irritable crayfish and instead puts a liberal glop of squeez-cheez on a flat rock for Jeepers to lap up. "Shame, out of this world as you are. You'd fit right in. But there's plenty of lovely stuff up there, too. Horrible stuff, mind you, but plenty of lovely of stuff. Not every planet is a Hellworld."

    He glances from the bucket to her again. "What do you want to teach?"

Rogue has posed:
The compliment that affords her has her smiling openly at him. As Jeepers goes to lick up the cheese, Rogue glances at it, then back at Michael. "That might be the nicest way of tellin' someone that you think they're wrong, that I ever done have heard." She replies with a continued smile. Her free hand puts her phone in to her jacket side pocket, then goes up to adjust the wool knit cap atop her head. She glances out at the creek, then back over at him.

"J'aimerais vraiment apprendre a parler francais." The Belle then says, in a flawless transition out of her Southern tone, in to French so good it sounds like her native tongue. She waits a beat before switching back with a smile.

"Bring some culture around this place..." She adds with a glance around at the mess he's made here.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    That gets a smirk, and he nods once. "J'imagine qu'ils adoreraient apprendre de toi." Apparently she's not the only one whose French is decent, though his accent is not /quite/ as smooth as hers. It's a language that doesn't see a lot of use these days. "And you're not /wrong/, just...it's not all bad, that's all I'm saying. But I can travel however I like, without worrying about radiation, now. So I'm biased."

    Michael's quiet a moment, looking down at the water. Tracing the circuit of the moonlight that runs its length. "This might sound like I'm making a pass at you," he says, language outdated as always. "But when's the last time you had really good French food?"

Rogue has posed:
The French that is spoken back to her has Rogue smiling warmly before she just shakes her head lightly and glances out at the water. Jeepers trods back up toward her and walks around behind her to stare out at the woods behind them off of the trails.

His follow up question has her huffing out a little laugh as she considers it. Her eyes look down stream before going back to him. "Well. I run a French Club in the Cafe of the College House since we opened it up. Got a few folks who come in on Wednesdays and we enjoy some Paris treats. But... a meal-meal?" She questions, then shakes her head. "I dunno. Never been t'Paris, or France in-general. It was just my mother's obsession. She got me started on the language, and I kept up with it... for, ya know, reasons."


She then upnods at him. "Why do you ask?" She inquires at the man.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Well, if you'd ever like to," he shrugs. "I live in the city, I go to a lot of those places. Jessica and I could take you to dinner, if you'd like, or you and I could go if she's busy." A nod toward the southern end of the grounds, beyond which the city rises. "La Goulue, that sort of thing. Wht do you think?"

    Jeepers gets another cone of not-cheese to slurp.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue's right hand comes up and she swipes her white bangs out of her face, tucking some of the strands back so they don't tickle her nose. She listens to his response, and just flickers a smile at the man wading around in the water. "If I had a dime for every time a Cradad Snatcher asked me t'go out for French cuisine..." She says with a sigh chasing it, a dramatic one.

When her eyes go back to him she smiles once more and nods her head. "Could be fun some time. I dunno who this Jessica is, but I imagine she's a significant othah. So if she don't mind ya askin' random people at your place'a work t'go out for food, then I guess I don't either."

Jeepers comes around the other side of Rogue then, trying to wrap her up in the leash, which has the Belle moving to step over the leash then. She reaches down to fuzzle the dog's head as he sweeps his eyes around the creek now.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Yeah, yeah," he says with a chuckle. "She's my romantic partner, yes - but she was also the SHIELD agent who fought with me here at the mansion, you know. She put her life on the line here same as I did." A beat. "Of course, we don't talk too much about what goes on up here. I expect SHIELD has a good idea, but they don't ask me. And they don't spy on me. I'd know." A wink.

    "But yes, you've been very nice to me since I came up here, and I...appreciate that. You could have all told me to hit the bricks and it would never be unjustified. But." He shrugs. "I'd like to try and repay that kindness whenever I can. You've all been lovely."

Rogue has posed:
The explanation has Rogue showing a continued light smile to the man, she nodding her head gently to what he says. "Well." She begins a response as she exhales, a puff of steamy breath leaving her lips before she looks back at him. "I gotta say, if it were /just/ me, I probably wouldn't have let ya hang out here. Not initially anyway, after that Shi'ar stuff. But... since Jean trusted ya, I trust her, so... it means ya get the same southern hospitality that I'd afford any friend'a the place."

Jeeepers walks around in front of Rogue now and then sits down on her feet.

"But yeah. Could do that some time. Any excuse t'have a good meal is always one worth takin' up after all." She says with a little grin.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "And it would be understandable. All I'm saying is that I see the trust given, however it might have begun, amd I appreciate it." He gives her a new smile, this one tinged with sadness around the corners. "These kids need to know what's out there. There's a lot of people in the universe that don't treat mutation well. Because they're idiots."

    That said, Michael hefts his bucket. A useless gesture, considering his strength, but there you are. "I have a lot of holograms I took while I was in the field," he notes, again looking down the way at where the dp GB is looking. Head awreath with steam himself. "If you'd like to see some lovely places in the galaxy without having to visit, I would be pleased to share them with you. But for now...I must bring these home to the missus, I think." He snorts. "I can just imagine her face if she heard me say that."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue wobbles a bit on her booted feet as she toes at Jeepers sitting down against her knees. She listens to Michael and just smiles at what he says and offers about space. "Maybe." She says at this, her eyes glancing up at the early night sky. "One can never tell what changes may come." She says then as she glances back down at him. "So lets put a 'We'll See' pin in that suggestion." She says with a bright grin before she tugs on Jeepers leash. "Come on, Fella. Lets let the Survivor Man go feed his ol' ball and chain." She glances up then and laughs. "Don't ever call her that one..." Rogue warns as she offers a wave with her left gloved hand as the two start to walk on down the trail some more.