ArchivedLogs:Ice Cream is Good for Sore Hearts

Ice Cream is Good for Sore Hearts
Dramatis Personae Kelly, Mallory, Thomas	2013-11-09 Violence and death take their toll at Xavier's. A small break to gather strength for more. (Part of Infected TP.)
Location <XS> Kitchen
The kitchen staff at Xavier's tends well to the needs of its residents. Always cognizant of its students and faculty's dietary needs alike, the menu has a wide variety of choices, and the longtime cook works wonders in the kitchen. The pantry, too, is kept well stocked for those who want to come prepare themselves their own snacks. The shelf, fridge, and freezer space is ample, though if anyone wants to keep their own food there, they'd better make sure it's labeled clearly, and even that is no guarantee it'll last. The situation around New York and the Xavier's School has stretched on for some time now, and the atmosphere at the school has been less than cheery in the last week. With the recently released guidelines on what words not to say aloud, the chatter around the campus has diminished greatly. It is an uneasy quiet, still occasionally punctuated with coughs, sneezes, and uncomfortable groans of the ill. It is late enough on a chill fall evening that the kitchen is largely quiet, being past dinner time, and no one particularly in favor of lingering around the open areas for long. Even with the danger of becoming a late night snack - there are those on campus who feel the need to risk it in search of additional food. Mallory is one such individual. The librarian has, at this point, abandoned professional dress, opting instead for comfort and freedom of movement - a black t-shirt, with what appear to be the names of all the characters in Romeo and Juliet in a seemingly random arrangement on the front, matched to a pair of faded black yoga pants. She is currently sitting at the kitchen table, perched on one of the stools, with a pint of ice cream in one hand, a spoon in the other. The hand holding the ice cream is actually wearing an oven mitt, potentially looking a bit awkward, even more so as it appears to be a lovely lime green one with cheery little chickens marching across a grid. It doesn't look like she has slept in some time, dark circles under her eyes, hair in somewhat of a bedraggled braid. Several places on her skin, easily visible against the dark red flesh, are scratches, scrapes, and deep black-red bruises that look suspiciously like bite marks. And ice cream can obviously make this better. Heading down to the kitchen, Thomas seems a tad bit irritable, a ball point pen sticking out of his mouth with a few chew marks on it, and tablet in hand as he looks over something on the screen. He has his labcoat on over top of a button up navy shirt and a pair of black slacks, though the lot of it smells a bit like fire suppressant and smoke. "Bloody damn thing..." He grrrs as he chews more on the pen as he walks on in. This of course comes with a mental stream of chemical formulae and curses that Mallory picks up, but thankfully only other telepaths would pick up the rest of it. "Damn squishy biology. Getting in the way of perfectly good chemistry." Seeing Mallory sitting there eating ice cream wearing an oven mitt, he shakes his head. "You know, if you dumped it into a bowl, left it on the marble countertop, it would work a little better than the thermal glove." Speaking of late night snacks, Kelly has had some practice at BOTH ends of that spectrum, as well, it would seem. He's still dressed in medical clothing far too thin for his liking, and open in front to give his skin breathing room, though the pudgy teen keeps crossing his arms to make this as least obvious as he can. Leaves, zombie bites, plant skin, scars, pimples, and hickeys? No problem. Chubby boy's belly?! THAT'S embarrassing to him. But it can't be helped at the moment as the large green soaked bandages on his right arm, right side (and that one is rather large indeed), and left hand make fairly obvious. There is also a noticeable lack of vines on his right arm as well, as there is no way they would fit in that tight of a bandage. There are only a half dozen leaves on his head, and the one lonely flower left, and his face is dashed with green scabs of its own. But none of this can stop him from his holy quest, not even the med staff down stairs (though they try)... and that is... the quest for snacks. He needs calories STAT, and if those can be in the form of ice cream, doughnuts, and/or pizza? Even better! Mallory glances up briefly at Thomas's approach, "Meh. Could do that. Could also eat something not ice cream. But I'd much rather sit here and sulk over a pint of ice cream at the table, with a spoon. And an oven mitt. Because ice cream is better when it isn't a vaguely Cherry Garcia flavored soup." Her voice is a bit flat, mentally there's a bit of a sleepy haze to her thoughts as she regards her twin with tired eyes, digging the spoon into her ice cream and starting to munch on it. << Having that much fun, brother? >> Mallory directs at Thomas, her mouth full of a spoonful of ice cream. When Kelly approaches, she offers a wave with the oven-mitted hand, spoon still in mouth as she takes stock of Kelly's condition. "Oh, oh dear. Kelly. What... are you alright? What happened?" she asks, concern clear on her features, quickly taking the spoon out of her mouth and setting it back into her ice cream pint. Thomas gets a crush of sudden guilt, confusion, a flash of directing Kelly to find a safe place, further uncertainty as to what has happened to the student. Shaking his head, Thomas peeks into the freezer first for a moment, thinking over what he sees, then sighs and shakes his head, closing it and going to one of the top cabinets and pulling out one of the labeled tubs of protein powders. "At least your option tastes a lot better. I just need to crank on the calories, fuel for the fire, etcetera and thusforth." He lets out a dramatic sigh as he grabs a cup, pours in a bunch of the powder then stirs in straight up water with it. <<Mallory, why are you covered in bruises and bites? You need to stay safe, otherwise you'll be hurt, or the students will be ash.>> Seeing the injured student coming in, he frowns and shakes his head. <<Dammit, not another one.>> "Hello there...," he pauses, glancing at a tablet and makes a few swipes, "Mister Walsh. If you needed anything, I'm sure they could have brought you something in the medical bay. How are you feeling?" Of course, as he asks this, his eyes are looking over the boy's face and eyes to make sure intellect is there. There is... life in his face, but judging on the choices he's made lately intellect may be a FAR stretch. Of course when Kelly takes a look at Mallory, his face is much the same as hers. Shock, guilt, and worry piled on top of each other. "I'm ok," he says, through a wince, youthful stubbornness and a teenager's self view of immortality surviving now, even in the face of so much proof that it isn't true. "Turns out... I don't taste very good after a couple of bites. Ms. al-Jazari got me safe, though. Or I think... can't remember much of it." he says, in a tone that was TRYING to make the teachers less worried. Much in the way 'It was just a small car crash.' tries to keep a parent less worried over the phone. "But are you ok, Ms. Winthrop?" he asks trying to turn the worry on HER now. Thomas question recieves: "I'm sorry, sir... I just can't stay down there. They're down there... and... and I can't sleep." Mallory pokes at her ice cream with the spoon, idly scraping the top in an apparent attempt to unearth chocolate or cherry amidst the tasty treat. "Sit. Eat some ice cream. It's high in calories. Given the situation, I don't think anyone is going to fault you for eating some ice cream. Though you're welcome to try your marble bowl thing," she snorts at Thomas, eating her spoonful of ice cream, adding mentally, << Hell. If you're worried about calories, use a candy bar instead of a spoon. Live a little. >> She sighs, munching on her ice cream << I'm not sick. I can't just abandon the students still here. I... apparently look like I'm dragging a lovely steak behind me. I'm fine though, promise. >> She frowns at Kelly's explanation, shaking her head with a skeptical look on her face, "I'm glad to hear that Ms. al-Jazari was able to assist you. I understand not wanting to stay in the med lab, I do. But have you at the very least been down to get your bandages changed today?" Another bite of ice cream, a bit meltier, a bit soupier than the las tone. "I'm alright, thank you. Just had a run in with... well," she falls silent, gesturing briefly around at the school. At Kelly's apology, Mallory clears her throat, her tone that of a practiced teacher, "Watch your word choice, Kelly. Be careful with apologies." Letting out a sigh, Thomas nods as he drains down some of his protein sludge. "Fine, I'll eat some of the ice cream. And I will use science, thank you very much." He avoids making the face at Mallory, at least physically, though mentally its big and right there. Speaking of the student, he nods softly to Kelly, a look of concern on his face. "That's understandable. Nobody wants to be around a situation like that if they can avoid it." He pulls out a tub of ice cream and set it down on the counter, then looks in the freezer. "Is there a flavor you would like? I think there are still plenty of options, so long as you don't mind dropping your internal core temp?" He does however nod as Mallory corrects him. "Indeed, no apologies till they find a cure. Find an alternative method if you must. I put an app on my tablet for text to speech. They even have a proper accent on it." He taps some on the tablet to load up the app, and after tapping in a phrase he pushes a button that produces an electronic British voice saying "Would you like a spot of tea?" He looks to Mallory at that, even venturing a smile. "May I have some chocolate, sir?" he asks as he goes over to the cabinets and fetches down a pair of bowls, and then a pair of spoons, setting them out for him and Thomas' use. He covers his mouth on the corrections, and nods again. "S-..." he says almost immediately after... again proving the earlier point about intellect, and instead says. "Of course." He isn't exactly in a good mood, though, but self hatred and pity are far from his eyes. And there is even a fitful giggle when he hears the phone blab off. Even as he tries to use his only good hand to get the bowls set. "I... even the ones that hurt me... I just feel so bad for them. Is... is Mr. Saresh still feeling better?" he added as a last bit of a diversion to GOOD news, or what he thought was good news. Each of the teachers looked to for a hopeful answer. He conveniently ignores the question about his bandages. Grinning thinly, Mallory scoots over, opening up more space at the table, "C'mon. Join in, pull up a chair, grab a spoon. Ice cream for dinner. Or post dinner snack. Either way - plenty of ice cream." As though to demonstrate, the demonic librarian takes another spoonful of ice cream, still melty-soup despite her precautions. Thomas's ipad trick gets a snort, and a sideways glare, "Really? Really?" She shakes her head and smirks, "You are a walking stereotype." << I know. Pot. Kettle. Black, and other shades. Meh. >> Mallory adds with a smirk to Thomas. Kelly's question, however, gets a stuttered response, her mind mentally walling for a moment in a desperate attempt to contain her thoughts, "I... he is resting. Now." Her voice is flattened, anxious, as she talks, taking another bite of ice cream. "I'll have you know I didn't include all the other stereotypical things I could have in that statement. Though a cup of tea does sound nice, just not with ice cream, and definitely not with that rubbish." Thomas gestures to the protein powder in the water as it separates a bit. " <<Pip pip, cheerio. At least I didn't have it go through a Monty Python sketch? Mainly because I couldn't decide between the parrot and the spam.>> He spoons out ice cream for himself and Kelly and gestures to the seat. "Eat up, then back to a bed to rest, either in med bay or the healthy wing. At least that is, if the doctors consider you well enough for that. So eat up before your ice cream starts looking like my sister's and then you can get a good evenings rest. Pleasant dreams of chocolates and the like." He isn't used to having a pleasant bedside (or kitchen counter) manner, and it shows, but at least there is an attempt at being a comforting teacher. <<At least they sent out the memo of what not to say. Hopefully no more sick...Just the swarms we already have.>>