16657/All I want for Christmas is a big meal

All I want for Christmas is a big meal
Date of Scene:	27 December 2024
Location:	New Hope Shelter, East Harlem
Synopsis:	Nick helps with cooking Christmas Dinner at the shelter with Sinister playing Guardian Angel. Yes. You read that right.
Cast of Characters:	Phantasm (Drago), Sinister

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Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Traditions can sometimes be the very things that get people moving. Perhaps not in the right direction, but in general, having a meal with others is generally not a bad thing.

So in that case, the tradition New Hope Shelter has with Holiday meals is a good one. But those meals do require volunteers to make them possible.

This is where one Nick Drago comes into play. However, unlike a lot of celebrities who would use the opportunity to serve out food at the front where cameras are more likely to pick them up for some feel good story of the week, Nick is currently situated in the back. Before him he lifts up a hand mixer with little white whips of fluffed potato cling to the blades. Power is cut off to the mixer before the blades are popped off, set upon a plate awaiting the final swipe of a small spatula to get the remnants off the metal.

Waste not. Want not.

Sinister has posed:
It's unclear how long this has been a thing where he was watched -- traditions dictate traditions. A history of violence can make for a present of cautiousness after all. It's traditional.

Preparing food though, is not something Sinister is prone to doing on any day ending in 'Y' so he has made zero effort to do so. Mostly, his observances here have been a 'do not see me' vibe where he faded into the foreground and keeping a solid eye on everyone coming in and out, along with a good city block around. Not that /Nick/ knows this, but he might be able to guess at it.

Suddenly, he's there, sitting on one of the counters, with a look of distaste at the general level of mess that an active kitchen can provide, when catering to high volume. "Relatively quiet and productive this go around, seems like." Is a murmur. GEEZE where do you get off appearing out of nowhere like that, mister?

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
It does seem pretty quiet and should Sin been trying to pick up upon the surface thoughts of those in the general area, there are no visuals through sight scopes, no thoughts of explosives, just a mix of 'Cooking stuff', 'Serving stuff', and 'Being Hungry'. The first two seem mostly concentrated indoors while the later one is dispersed between the mess hall area, the lobby, and the general area surrounding the building.

Well, there is another thought of arming oneself and being ready to perform a likely unhelpful Tracheotomy using a blunt wooden handle.

Judging from how quickly Nick moved from the movement that appeared in the side of his eye and the spatula being flipped around, it doesn't take a telepath to know who thought that one.

Blink. Blink.

Lips part ways as Nick starts to respond before the command is halted. Emergency Reboot. Restarting now. No you can't differ to outside of working hours.

...

Dee Dee doo dooo...

Logging in.

Nick nods. "Mostly."

Pale eyes look over to the spatula, the mixing part now in hand. "...f-"

The spatula is tossed into the wash basin containing dirtied utensils.

"Oh is that next round ready, Mike?" Another voice int he kitchen speaks up, apparently not at all concerned by the doctor on the counter.
Nick Drago sighs, glancing around "Almost. Need a new spatula."

"Ah. Alright. You know where we keep the extras."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister can 't help laughing at the response, though it's a low, almost voiceless thing as he's prone to do when blackly amused by things. He looks at the other individual in the kitchen, tilting head for a few moments as he's utterly ignored, grins and looks back to Nick.

"I might be slightly sadistic sometimes. She can't hear me, or see me. You can, of course..." he takes a mostly clean knife and twirls it in his fingers, rolling the blade over knuckles as he contempates it.

"All quiet on the western front, by which I mean outside. Nothing untoward is going on that shouldn't be happening. You though, are a menace to kitchen utensils everywhere."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Seeing the lack of response from the lady, he gives but a nod of undderstanding to Sinister's question. An action that serves dual purpose to confirm he knows the...general area that the extras are kept. There's only so much drawer space after all.

He makes another note to bring back a knife to replace the one Sinister touched as well.

Although the heads up that there's nothing bad going on outside is welcome news. There's a slight smile as the doctor's reward for being so vigilant before the rock star makes his way to the back room.

As Nick moves out of sight, Sinister is treated to the sounds of the thoughts he's familiarized himself over mealtime.

\<span style="color:xterm220"\>Potatoes are getting low. Where's the next batch?

Man I'm so hungry I could eat a horse.

Oh no you don't, you take this hand sanitizer right now before grabbing that plate.

Oh wow, that's a lot of people. Will we find a seat?

I'm so hungry I could eat a human.

I'm so hungry I could eat a whale!

WHERE'S THE NEXT BATCH OF POTATOES?!

Ok Spatula's found... now the kn- Why is it cold ov- Oh I swear if Randy propped the door open again...

Rolls are getting a bit low too.

Plenty of Peas and Corn left. Why isn't anyone going for the Peas and Corn?

There's the slightest glimpse of a propped open door from outside amongst the sensation of hunger pangs.

A glimpse of the door from inside.

Fucking Randy.

...He'll do.\</span\>

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's eyes close at the symphony of unheard communication -- thoughts are never-ending, it's so strange to find a no-mind out there in the wilds. Mutants are noted, empowered people also, by thier sensation of 'being' -- all the nuances of life happening in the shelter. The door. Why does that feel just a little bit dangerous?

Prop/wedge/bucket/can-of-oil shunted aside by the power of mind, to allow it to close.

The rolls. Peas and corn.

Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, pease porridge in the pot, nine days old.

"I imagine lining people up like orderly ducks would be frowned on. Very well..." bag of onions, bag of carrots, more potato mix, bread roll dough floated out of the chiller, trays start to dance like the Sorceror's apprentice...

This is what Nick will return to, with his kitchen co-worker ignoring it all, as items float and arrange themselves neatly, get dusted with milk, get flash-peeled, get chopped in mid air and fly toward their respective pots.

This is not to say someone coming in from the front to the back is going to have the same imperative to not see though.

"Who is Randy?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The industrial mat that has been shifted over to jam the door open shifts to the side, which does lead to a reaction of sorts.

\<span style="color:xterm220"\>The f-?\</span\>

Nick pauses in his approach to the door as the shift of movement in the rug leads to a momentary bit of concern. But with the automatic locking door now latched, there's not much else to concern himself with. A cautious look glances around the storage room. Checking for any unusual figures he somehow missed earlier.

The outside viewpoint is a bit more succinct. Annoyance. \<span style="color:xterm220"\>Maybe another.\</span\>

The volunteer in charge of the rolls blinks as he finds a new batch of dough prepped.

\<span style="color:xterm220"\>When did I...\</span\> There's a shrug and general acceptance of the fact before the dough is broken off, balled up, and placed in their respective muffin cup.

Returning from the storage room with a bit more energy, Nick's steps slow as he looks to the show of culinary force.

.oO(Randy's the one in charge of rolls...)

The mix is ignored as Nick moves over to another pot, grabbing a set of potholders and popping off the lid.

.oO(I should have recruited you to help out a long time ago.)

Sinister has posed:
There's a narrowing of the eyes from Sinister, glancing to the door now shut, then back at the action. Eggs for batter are brought out, cracked enmasse and set down, whisked up.

"I think I had better step outside after this... but you're welcome. I even do brussel sprouts, but I doubt anyone else does..."

An indicator of the place with a backhand wave indicates who 'anyone' is in this instance.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick chuckles to the mention of brussel sprouts. .oO(If we're having enough trouble pushing the corn and peas, that will be a hard sell most likely.)

Nick pauses a moment to glance over at the finished tray of potatoes being slid away by another volunteer onto a kitchen cart.

Nick grabs a strainer lid and holds it to the pot before bringing it over to the sink, tilting the pot away from him to avoid the bath of steam that emits from it.

The annoyed thoughts of hunger drift away from the building. \<span style="color:xterm200"\>Need to wait.\</span\>

Anothr batch of rolls are popped into the oven while Nick works towards draining a second pot.

Sinister has posed:
One thing Sinister can do, is put a mental GPS tracker on individuals. It's called a dilation of telepathy, which puts a tiny marker thought in the mind of another so that they can be found. No matter where they are.

He's done it for a few individuals, this is how he always knows where Lucifer is, no matter if the devil is in another dimension or not, Sin /knows/. That doesn't mean he can get there, but at least there's awareness.

So a little mental cockroach takes refuge behind one of the mind dumpsters of the Perpetually Hungry one, just so he can go and watch.

Later.

"It all depends on how they're prepared, but indeed -- I doubt this place is fond of salt, pepper, honey glaze and a dash of chilli powder on their Anathema vegetable of common choice. Are you going to be fine here? I hope so, as I have bloodhound work to do."

<<TO BE CONTINUED?>>