Logs:Waffling

Waffling
Dramatis Personae Kisha, Kitty	2020-11-17 Kisha and Kitty chat over waffles. Bob does the cooking and the washing up.
Location Kisha's Apartment
Kisha's apartment is surprisingly upmarket for a young professional of her age. An open plan kitchendiningliving area that is mostly dominated by Bob who sits in a charging dock that also serves duty as a table. There's a computer acting as a home entertainment system and command centre for remote operating just about everything you can imagine plus a projector all cobbled together out of bits she's collected. She also has furniture. Technically. A bunch of beanbag chairs and fold up things that pack away to save space. Her 'room' is a compact office area for working from home in. While her bedroom, up until recently a storage room for computer hardware, does technically feature a good folding couch bed. There's also wall screen linked into the entertainment system allowing for binge watching in private. There's also a bathroom. Although lacking in a bath. It's by far the most normal room on account of water and tech not being a good mix. Kisha herself spends most of her time working quietly or occasionally for a change of scenery putting some music on and working from one of the living area bean bag chairs. Today's one such day, with an electronic 16 bit bleepy tune playing. And she's adopting her traditional minimum effort fashion sense. Black t-shirt and also black pants. Typing away on her SI work laptop while remote controlling Bob to make waffles. A text prompt pops up on the screen. 'Waffles Y/N?' At Bob’s combination charging dock/dining room table, Kitty is setting up for another session of data analysis - which is mostly running code and groaning, if the last few cracks at this are anything to go by. With New York returning to some ‘normal’ level of tension, Kitty has been staying in more these days, only occasionally going out for patrols or bringing supplies to the warehouse clinic. Dressed simply in a navy blue long sleeve v-neck and grey leggings, it certainly does not seem like today is a 'go out into the world' kind of day for her. She glances up from the loading screen on her laptop. “Is that even a question?” Kitty’s lips twitch up into a smile. “Waffles. Obviously.” "Some people don't like getting syrup on the keys," Kisha points out. Possibly the first time she's spoken all day. "And that's just about the only topping I have unless... Oh there is icecream too." Even checking the freezer is automated. Alas laundry has to be done in the buildings laundry room and for some reason the building manager does not approve of Bob in there... "How are things today? If that's something you are of a mood to talk about. If not do not feel obliged." Kitty’s eyebrow shoots up curiously. “That a common problem for you? Syrup on the keys?” A waggle of eyebrows- she’s joking. Kitty clicks at a few things, hits ‘run’ on the program, and joins Kisha in flopping into a bean bag chair. “Things are… quiet, I guess.” She pulls at one curly lock of hair idly. “Guess I’m thinking about trying to go back to Inwood sometime. Love your place, but -“ Kitty grimaces - “I’m still paying rent there, you know?” Kisha blinks. Then frowns. "Innuendo?" She wonders. "I have brain controls so.. never been an issue." Bob clatters a bit in the kitchen. He might be able to handle kitchen tasks but there are still.. quirks. "If you think it'll be safe?" she queries. "I don't mind you staying as long as required. But I can see how this might feel quite cramped. Bob does rather fill up space." “Ah - I see. Just a joke!” Kitty smiles, sinks further into the beanbag. “I really appreciate that, and your place is amazing.” A wide gesture to the picture frame, the chairs, Bob. “Though I keep having nightmares I’m gonna walk through Bob and break him.” The smile fades. “I think it might be safe. But then I think - what if I’m wrong? And then I spiral.” A deep sigh. "Oh. I find it hard to tell sometimes." Kisha states the obvious as if it was news. "It's not really that big. B and Tony both have much nicer places. But it's a lot less cluttered since I moved most of my spare parts to a storage unit." If Bobs aware of the risk to his existence it doesn't show. Waffles get flipped. "I can fix him. My power lets me just recycle broken tech. So I just turn the remains plus some extra scrap into a more advanced version." Clunk. Bob tips out the first batch and leaves the plate on the table near Kitty. "Probably best if you add your own toppings. Syrup changes how it flows so Bob never really gets the amount right." "We can put together a surveillance drone so you can check the area out in advance? There's no real guarantee of safety anywhere in the world. You just have to try your best to make good choices and pay attention to the world." Bob starts a second batch. "Besides you can always walk through someone." “My bad.” Kitty extracts herself from the void of the bean bag just enough to reach the waffles, tips out a sizeable amount of maple syrup over them. “Drone?” Kitty’s nose scrunches up. “Seems invasive to the neighbours. Can drone’s spot fascists?” She takes a bite of waffle, chews thoughtfully. “I mean, yes. But. I don’t know. I stay solid when I’m freaked out.” A glance to Bob. “Can I take Bob home? As security?” "It doesn't really bother me," Kisha points out with a shrug. "They could spot people watching your place." She nods. "And yes a spy drone generally is a bit invasive to someone." Waffles are thankfully not a complex enough dish for Bob to struggle with. So they actually taste pretty decent. "Have you considered self medicating? Or is it a non-smoking apartment." She glances at Bob. "He tends to ruin the carpets and floors. So your deposit will be gone. And he can't really help out around the kitchen unless the appliances are adapted." She ponders. "You do remember what I said about Bob having cameras?" The welcome pack likely mentioned a polite warning about no sexy times in the communal areas because Bob films his surroundings. "You'd essentially be putting yourself under surveillance. Rather than potential bad people." “Every apartment is a smoking apartment, if you try hard enough.” Kitty snorts through a mouthful of waffle. “But weed makes me paranoid, which is the opposite of what I want right now.” She looks thoughtfully over at Bob, flushes faintly. “Fair point. Maybe not Bob, then.” She puts down her fork, groans, collapses back into the void of the chair. “What would you do if a fascist suddenly showed up at your apartment? Nuke it from orbit?” "Well firstly my door and adjacent walls are re-enforced so you'd need a police ram to get in," Kisha muses. "And anyone attempting to do so would trigger Bobs guard dog program. So he'd begin firing metal rivets at them." "But other than that I wouldn't open the door. Because I never open the door to strangers. Camera doorbell you see." She hops up and heads to collect her waffles. She adds strawberry ice-cream for the hot/cold combo. "More seriously. I favour pro-actively solving problems. If a group of fascists were to target me I'd find a way to eliminate them. Tip off the Brotherhood perhaps. Or rob a Russian crime boss and frame them for it." Kitty groans, sinks further into her bean bag. “Okay, we can’t all work for Tony friggin’ Stark.” A beat. “And I don’t love the idea of a camera doorbell. You seen what Amazon is doing with their footage?” She stares at the ceiling. “So. Nuke them from orbit. Got it.” Another beat, then - “Have you robbed a Russian mob boss?” Kisha snorts. "I did all that by myself. I have basically every invention ever in my head. Including a lot of things I'd rather not know. It never ceases to amaze me how many different objects people want to.." She looks at the waffles. "Anyway fuck Amazon. I want a smart device I make it smart for my benefit not so someone else can get rich narc'ing on my neighbors and selling my data." She very carefully, keeping the icecream from touching the waffles until the last moment, begins eating. "Fascists are like cockroaches." A shake of her head. "No, but my Brother is trying to become one so it's inevitable. He's also hardcore FoH so.. Not going to shed any tears if I have to deal with that situation." “Fuck Amazon,” Kitty agrees, her whole chest in it. She sits up again, takes the plate of waffles with her back into the abyss of the bean bag. Another bite before Kisha elaborates - Kitty grimaces. “That’s gotta be awkward at Christmas.” Her brow furrows. “If he's FoH - does he talk to you? Like, at all?" "I haven't gone home. Ever. Since I went to Xavier's," Kisha explains with a shrug, heading back to her beanbag too. "The last time we spoke he was threatening to kill me for betraying him to the cops. Which is bullshit. He just fucked up. That was at his sentencing, for robbing a jewelry store. Maybe seven or eight-ish years ago." Kitty’s face goes red. “Shit. I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Her fork stabs at breakfast, but she doesn’t actually it up to her face. “I’m sorry your family is full of bigots. They’re missing out, big time.” She doesn’t look up at Kisha when she says this, but she glances over to Bob, brows furrowing. Bob isn't doing anything in particular. Staying on stand-by in case more waffles are needed or to do the washing up. "Don't be? It's old news and I don't think I really... care? I outgrew that place and those people. They belong to the me before my mutation." Kisha eats some more hot waffle & cold ice-cream. "Besides without having slept it feels subjectively even longer ago." Kitty nods, chastised sufficiently into just taking another bite of waffle in silence. “Two questions for you, actually.” She waves the fork like a conductors baton, points it at Kisha. “Number one: Does it bug you to have someone actually sleep in here?” Her face, serious, breaks out into a smile at the second question: “And do I actually snore?” "I did have room-mates at Xavier's you know," Kisha points out with a chuckle. "I barely notice other people when I am focusing on my work. Nor did I use the bedroom for anything other than storage. Really the only change to my routine is some minor considerations about where in the apartment I get changed." "As for snoring I have no idea. I have some excellent noise cancelling headphones I wear while in my office. You could have 'company' over and I'd only know if you told me or I physically walked into them." Kitty shrugs. “High school was a while back for both of us. I didn’t have a roommate one year, too.” Still, she cracks a little grin. “Guess I’ll have to ask Sarah.” A beat. “Do you want more company? I mean. While I’m here.” Her face flushes again as she suggests it. “Have a couple friends over. Play a board game. Toss ‘em in your VR thing or something." She hesitates. "The welcome packets seemed kind of... low-use." Kisha squashes some of the waffle into the melted ice-cream to soak it up. "If you were worried you are a bad house guest then no, not really. Feel free to invite guests over. So long as no-one goes in my office and I get enough advance notice to make sure Bob won't cause problems it's cool." "The VR system is a bit big for taking home. It's also currently at the point anyone using it needs to sign an NDA and a medical waiver." She glances around at the entertainment system. "I don't own board games but I have a full selection of consoles." "As an aside or rather a follow up to an earlier topic.. Would it perhaps re-assure you if, when you do feel ready to return, I accompanied you for a few days? I can work remotely from your couch, if you have one that is, as easily as anywhere." Kisha offers, gesturing with her own spoon. "I'm not quite as an effective guard as Bob but I take up much less room." Kitty’s face brightens, nods. “Can do. I’ll see if anyone else wants to test it out, too.” Kisha’s suggestion takes her off guard, eyes going wide. “I- that is really kind of you.” She bites her lip. “I think… yeah. I think that would help.” She pushes up from the bean bag some more, trying to catch Kisha’s eyes. “Thank you.” "Just be careful what you mention regarding the VR system," Kisha points out. "I don't think Tony Stark is going to care that much about an NDA breach but some of his lawyers are likely overeager. A few more volunteers would be good though. I'd been considering asking B but... you know... or the other X-men but again... timing was not the best." She finishes up her waffles and the last of her ice-cream. "It's not a big deal. Although if you expect me to contribute to a cooking rota I will instead be ordering delivery food." Without her gadgets Kisha is hardly an expert in the kitchen. Unless you like cold pizza with hot sauce. The brain controls mean she doesn't have to really focus on her laptop as much. So catching her eye isn't tricky. Kitty thinks on this for a moment. “I’ll be discreet. Tell people to chat with you.” Her eyes focus on one middle distance point as she thinks. “Things are… winding down. I think some folks might be interested in a distraction. A Break.” When she does catch Kisha’s gaze, Kitty gives the other woman a small, grateful smile. “I don’t mind takeout.” She ducks her head in a small nod. "That'll work," Kisha says after a moments consideration. "I'll try ensure I have some non-violent scenario options for people to explore. No point giving people a distraction that gives them flashbacks to riots." She returns the nod. "That's good. Regarding takeout. And ah.. speaking of discreet just... send a text with a sock emoji if you expect a visitor and I'll know to make myself scarce." She shrugs. "I figure that your date might be eager to stop by once you're back home." Now Kitty’s face flushes bright and red. “She’s not my- we aren’t-“ Instead of finishing her sentence she fills her mouth with the last bit of waffle, chews for a little longer than necessary. “Thanks?” She extracts herself from the bean bag. “I mean- if anything did - I would, absolutely, but -“ There is a beep from her laptop - Kitty gives up on that sentence too, goes back to her laptop and her code. “Very understanding of you.” "Ah. Sorry I don't think I'll ever get the hang of the whole.... 'tact' thing," Kisha replies blandly as Kitty blushes. "It rarely occurs to me normal people find sex and relationships embarrassing." She takes her now empty bowl over for Bob to wash. Most of her dinnerware/crockery is plastic to prevent robot related breakages. "Anyway I should probably get back to my work. I've got a meeting with an SI team overseas I'll need to dial in for." “No you’re good - It’s just - you’re not the first person to think Sarah and I are together, is all.” Kitty shrugs. “Maybe I’m just repressed.” She slumps down into a chair at the control table, pecks at her keyboard with one finger. “Me too.” It takes another run of her program before the flush finally fades from her cheeks, the apartment settling into a familiar rhythm of work and focus.