nextgenerationmarvel | Text To Brooke (And Subsequent Thread)

"They think something called a pierogi is a valid edible item," Brooke said. "It's appalling. And yes. Bobbi something-or-other. She of the bad hair, tragic clothes, and terribly bad manners. Honestly, Rachel should send that one to a finishing school for mutant ladies or something."

She paused, then, at Stephanie's comment, and maybe even blushed a little bit. "Oh. I didn't...Oh." She smiled a little crookedly. "It'd certainly kill Marcello."

"... those aren't half-bad, actually. Especially if you feel like something simpler. Maybe the Russian Tea Room will decide to make a more elaborate version of them." Stephanie was actually well-acquainted with all the various culinary offerings of the city. One never knew when the urge to devour all within sight would hit. Her mutation had the somewhat annoying drawback of necessitating a massive caloric intake.

She smirked at that. "It probably would at that. Through sheer shock at first and then through raging jealousy." She laughed. "Shouldn't tempt me like that, you know." Her smirk widened. "Bad Brooke."

"I do enough simple stuff at the Institute, thank you," Brooke stated. "This making your own food thing is absolute torture. And no one there knows how to poach an egg! I'm certainly not trained to poach one on my own!"

It was evident that Brooke was the one who needed to go to a finishing school - not that she'd ever admit it. Or realize it.

Brooke laughed. "Somehow, I don't think I could sway you that way even if I used my powers on you."

"I have to admit that I'm really no better at cooking. I tried to make myself dinner one day when the cook was ill." She paused for a moment. "It was foolish, ill-advised and singularly messy. Especially when I can order delivery from virtually any restaurant in the city."

Stephanie had actually been through the experience briefly before she went to America. She hated every minute over it, and gleefully ignored most of their mandates as soon as she could. It was hard to believe, but at one time, she'd actually been Catholic.

Stephanie laughed. "Likely not. In any case, truthfully, a good friend is a lot more valuable than a silly little affair anyway." She smiled. "We're almost there. You know, I've heard rumours of a secret menu at Languedoc. One that they only give to a select few return customers."

"The nearest place to get food from is the Salem Center, and I don't think the Institute is all too fond of delivery," she said. "You know, what with the crazy things that tends to happen there."

They pulled up in front of Languedoc and Brooke visibly perked up. "Are we to find out if this menu exists?" Because Brooke did so love feeling special.

"That's the plan. If such a thing existed, I'm sure my father knew all about it." Stephanie grinned. "And in any case, we're more than important enough in our own right. I don't think Languedoc would like to annoy two very important customers."

The limo driver went around and opened the door for them to get out. Languedoc was not a large establishment- it had been around since the turn of the twentieth century and had survived all of the changes that had come through New York since then. There were two floors, the second floor generally being reserved for special customers.

It should have come to a surprise to no one that they were escorted upstairs promptly.

This. She'd missed this service. There was nothing at or close to the Institute that came anywhere near this sort of service.

Frankly, she just missed being served.

"I miss this life," she admitted, "but learning about my powers right now is more important than just laying in the lap of luxury." Once she'd mastered her powers, then she could lay all she wanted.

"Oh, absolutely. And whatever their other flaws, they are very good at that. I learned a lot from them." And more since, though it'd been awhile since she'd really been able to use her powers. It wasn't as if she was going to see out an opportunity to do so, but should it come ... well, it was kind of fun. The insane adrenaline rush of combat.

But so was being served and treated like royalty. The maitre'd escorted them upstairs to a private booth, where everything had been laid out just so. And they were immediately given a wine list with their menus (without any prices printed on them), because it was simply assumed they would have wine with their lunch, never mind asking for ID. They'd even thoughtfully provided a seperate list of cognacs and whiskies, as if they knew of Stephanie's specific tastes.

For herself, Brooke ordered the Cabernet Franc, preferring its light sweetness - along with the burst of strawberry, raspberry, and cherry flavours - to the drier, more full-bodied red wines.

She had always been a wine person. Harder liquors didn't sit well with her, and things like beer were something for the blue collared classes.

"How did you manage it? Certainly, it's not the sort of life you were used to."

As one might figure, Stephanie went straight for the red Rioja wines, one of the things she still loved dearly about her onetime homeland. There weren't many places in New York with a good selection of Spanish wines, and it was a pleasant surprise to see it here. As for the cognacs, whiskies and such, much as she enjoyed them, they were an after-dinner beverage if anything.

"It was better than my life back in Spain in many ways. Not as luxurious, but much freer. It's only really since I graduated that I got to experience the freedom as well as the luxury of wealth." She smirked, and then looked a bit more thoughtful. "I realized early on that there was a lot I could learn there, and that I needed to be on my best behaviour, as a guest in someone else's house."

"Yes, I understand your point," Brooke said with an arched eyebrow. "I shouldn't go about terrorizing the students and the faculty the way I do. I honestly don't mean to, though. They just...leave so many doors open for me to step in and wield my superiority over them. How can one pass up an opportunity like that?"

In the next instant, she waved it off. "But tell be about Spain. Having recently discovered that I'm of Spanish descent myself, I have to admit, I'm curious. Manuel - it's still weird thinking about calling him Dad or Daddy or Father - took me to England over the winter, but he never took me to Spain."

"Consider it an opportunity to network in the mutant community, if nothing else. It's not like you need to actually like any of them, but alienating mutants is never really wise ..." But Stephanie was happy enough to be diverted from a potentially awkward conversation, for now. Especially with wine being poured.

"You feel a very old and blended history when you're in Spain. You see Roman, Moorish and Baroque buildings resting next to modern office blocks. People keep rather odd hours often- dinner is very late and clubbing literally takes you to dawn. The landscape's beautiful in a slightly austere way."

"I lived there most of my life, but to be honest, it feels foreign now. I've become very used to New York." She laughed slightly and raised her glass in a toast.

"To good friends, worth their weight in diamonds."

Brooke raised her own and then took a nice, demure, lady-like sip of her wine, savouring the burst of berry flavours on her tongue.

She smiled a little like the cat who got a taste of the canary and leaned back in her seat.

"I've heard of that happening to people, how they return home, and it doesn't feel like home anymore," she said. "It's funny, my whole life, I was raised to believe that I was this Fifth Avenue WASP, but it turns out...I'm Spanish. Partially. That changes your perspective on some things."

"I would imagine so. I was always aware, vaguely, my father wasn't a Spaniard like the rest of my ... family were, but it was something I never really had to consider until I came here." She took a long sip of her wine. "You know, technically, we could be considered as Hispanic. Both of us." She laughed. "At least half, anyway."

She looked out of the corner of her eye and noticed the maitre'd trying to subtly watch them, as if sizing them up.

"... I wonder if he's trying to figure out if we get offered the secret menu or not."

"I know," Brooke winced, thinking about all the times she'd talked down to some of the the household help, in less than racially sensitive ways.

"All we have is the drinks menu," Brooke said, shuffling through the things on the table. She looked at him and gave him her best smile. Yes, it said. Come help us.

It didn't take too long before the maitre'd came over to them, putting on his best diplomatic style, with the regular menus. And a knowing look in his eyes.

"We also have our exclusive tasting course, left up to the discretion of our chef." His smile turned slightly wry. "For the adventurous diner, of course."

Stephanie raised her eyebrow and looked towards Brooke for a moment, guaging her response.

"If you can't take an adventurous trip around the world at the moment, might as well have adventure come to your dining table, don't you think?" Brooke asked Stephanie.

She looked up at the maitre'd and nodded her head. "The exclusive tasting course will suit us just fine, thank you."

Stephanie nodded, grinning. "I suppose we'll find out what all the fuss is about soon, won't we? For all we know, they could be serving us koala steaks." It was a joke, of course. She was pretty sure that there wouldn't, in fact, be koalas on the menu.

"Soon, though, we should go somewhere nice together. Much as I enjoy New York, its winter climate is hardly congenial to me." She liked warmth and sun, and New York in March simply didn't provide enough of it.

Brooke blinked and looked up at the maitre d'. "If it ends up being a koala steak, rest assured that I will drown you in gallons and gallons of eucalyptus oil. FYI, okay?"

Dismissing him with the wave of her hand, she turned back to Stephanie and said, "Someplace warm and sunny, with lots of red wine and handsome men? Yes please, a thousand times over. Just nowhere too touristy. I get enough of fanny packed Americans here in the city. I don't need it when I grow abroad."

Text To Brooke (And Subsequent Thread)

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