It's What's For Dinner


katya_icon.gif shannon_icon.gif

Scene Title It's What's For Dinner
Synopsis Katya and Shannon have a nice meet and greet at the Garden.
Date October 01, 2010

The Garden

It's the time of day when most people are getting home and starting to cook dinner, or heading out to a restaurant. Though this isn't exactly home, Shannon is in the former category of people. She's in the kitchen, pots and pans on the stove, bubbling and steaming and sending the smell of good food into the kitchen, filling it.

While most people seem to consider cooking a chore, she has a smile on her lips, and seems to be fully enjoying herself. She's even humming softly as she makes some sort of Italian dish, if the noodles cooking in one of the pots are any indication.

Katya has been wondering the other safehouses in the area, just sort of exploring. And getting to know people. What else is she going to do with her time, huh? So it is that the smell of something cooking that draws her attention toward the kitchen, the frail girl poking her head in.

"Do you need any help?" She asks softly, in her thick Russian accent, but her English is otherwise good!

Visitors aren't something Shannon's expecting here. And she thought she'd met all the occupants of this particular safehouse. So when she hears the unfamiliar voice she looks up in mild surprise. "Help? Ahh…sure. Can you split those loaves of bread and butter them?" she asks, nodding to several loaves of french bread sitting on the table. "You new here?"

Instead of answering, really, Katya steps over to start working on the loaves. "I am… sort of. I stay with Mister McRae. Another house, but near by. I thought… to come and meet the others? I hope this is alright…" She does seem a little uncertain, testing the waters.

"I don't know any McRae. I'm new too. To this whole thing," Shannon admits, but then, it's common enough knowledge. "And not really for me to say whether you visiting is alright or not, but I don't mind. I'm Shannon. Resident cook."

"I am Katya, and it is nice to meet you, Shannon," the girl says with a gentle smile. "I do not think I am the resident anything," she adds, that smile growing a little crooked, just a bit. "But this group, they have been taking good care of me."

"Well, that's sort of what they do. Take people who need hiding and safekeeping, and hide them," Shannon says, shrugging lightly. "And I don't think most people are resident anything. I just refuse to work with horses or play in the garden, and I like cooking, so…I took over kitchen duties. It means I do my share of the work and get to do something I enjoy."

"They do it pretty well," Katya adds with a chuckle, twisting her chair enough to handle the bread and speak comfortably to Shannon. "I never learned how to cook very much. My mother, she would do such things. But I am thinking now, I should have paid more attention, yes? To help out."

Glancing over to Katya, Shannon smiles. "Gillian's talking about getting me to give the Lighthouse kids cooking lessons. I'd be happy to teach you as well if you want. It's not really that hard once you get used to it. It's just following directions."

"I would want, yes," Katya says with that subdued, little smile, which seems to be as excited as this girl gets. "The house I stay in, full of boys. It needs all the help it can get. My mother, she said men forget all the little important things. Food, laundry, like this. I am thinking she was not wrong now."

Lips twitch and Shannon nods. "Yeah, your mother was right. Which is why I don't bother with guys beyond a few hours enjoyment. There's no point to it. You do that and they just end up stretched up in a recliner, with a beer belly and watching football," she says, rolling her eyes.

Katya's head tilts curiously at that first bit. Hours of enjoyment, as a euphemism flies directly over her head, despite the fact that most kids her age are busy making 'that's what she said' jokes at this very moment. "I have seen some of this football. It seems very… violent, yes? I admit, I do not understand the point."

"Most women don't," Shannon says dryly. "It's a man's game. Though why they wanna stare at a bunch of guys showing off their ass and groping each other, while saying that it makes them big bad straight men is beyond me."

The girl opens her mouth there… and then closes it again. Something to ask around about, surely. Perhaps the boys at the Sweat Lodge would know. "Perhaps it is… male bonding ritual. Like braiding each other's hair, but… for men."

"Maybe, but it still doesn't answer all the questions." Shannon glances over. "When you've got the bread buttered, thick layer, mind you, will you sprinkle this garlic on it?" she asks, motioning to said garlic. "So if you don't like football and don't cook, what do you like to do?"

"Woman is supposed to be the big mystery, da? But boys, just as confusing," Katya says with a wave of her hand before she reaches for that garlic. "Ah… I like music very much. I used to do ah… pottery? But I do not have the equipment here with me. But I paint a little and like this?"

"So art then. Performing and otherwise," Shannon says, nodding. "I can't do any kind of art myself…" Though she smiles, the sort of smile one wears when remembering something fondly. "Though I guess my brand of cooking could be considered an art in a way. Still, I appreciate those who can create."

"Yes, exactly. It… runs in the family." Katya starts to slide the butter on, nice and thick, a sort of far away look about her for just a moment before she refocuses on Shannon again. "Culinary arts, I have heard it called this. It can be both beautiful and functional, without having to sacrifice one for the other, like most other things. Very unique, in that."

"True. I've heard it said that you first eat with your eyes, then your mouth. If the food doesn't look appealing, most likely you won't want to try it. So it's almost required that it look as good as it tastes." Shannon smiles, enjoying the conversation. "I took some classes too, so I've learned some tricks most home chefs don't."

"That… is so true," Katya says, as if she hadn't ever really thought about it before. Huh. "I think this place, it is very lucky to have a chef," she says with a smile, "You think, living in hiding, it would be all dreary and depressing. But I have learned, not always! It is very uplifting."

Shannon laughs and shrugs. "Well, I can't say I'm happy here. There's not even any tv. But it's better than the alternative, and I do enjoy the cooking bits." Another look to Katya. "I was serious about the cooking lessons, by the way. It'd be fun."

"You are saved from the football, then! No TV. Is there any beer? Perhaps you are saved from the bellies as well," Katya says, patting her own… rather lacking one. But, as the other goes on, she nods, "I would love to come. I can get to the Lighthouse… I haven't been yet, but I know how to go."

"Oh no, the cooking lessons are gonna be here. Apparently the Lighthouse kids visit here. But if you don't live there, where do you live?" Shannon asks with feigned nonchalance. She's been dying to know about the other safehouses.

"Oh! Well, then I most certainly know how to get here," Katya says with a bit of a sheepish smile. "Oh, ah… the Sweat Lodge. It is not too far. Mister McRae, he is very kind. But he looks a little scary… But he is a good man! Just… large." Of course, with this girl, who isn't big in comparison?

Looks scary? Shannon smiles. "Don't be too caught up in appearances. They can be more deceiving than anything else. But since you said he was kind, I guess you figured that out, at least partially. And maybe someday I can visit you at the Sweat Lodge."

"It was easy. He was very sweet when I first arrived. I think, even, his looks? Very comforting at that moment. It can make you feel safe, yes?" Katya's smile holds real affection for the man in question, and she nods to those last words, "You should! It is a good place. The others there… very good. I like it very much."

"Well there ya go. And yeah, I'll visit. Where is it?" Shannon asks, dumping the contents of one pot into another and mixing them together.

"It is to the south… not too far from the Lighthouse. I… am afraid I do not know the streets well enough for directions, but the Ferrymen, they can help you get there. It is… little apartment building?" Katya says, as if she's not actually sure that's the right way to describe it, but it's likely the best she can do.

Shannon nods. "South, near the lighthouse. I'll ask someone. Do you guys have TV there? Tell me you have TV there and I'll be a regular fixture."

"Well… I do not have a TV there, but perhaps someone does! I do not know. I spend a lot of time with my music, when I am not exploring." Katya leaves out the bits about her disease sometimes keeping her in bed, but the point gets across- she doesn't 'hang' very much.

"Hey, music would be something. There's no electricity here at all, so there's no radio either," Shannon says, sighing heavily and shaking her head. "And really, I don't know anyone here, so having someone will visit will be nice."

"There is music, yes. Quite often. There was a very nice woman, she gave me a keyboard after I got here? It was very much appreciated." Katya is, perhaps, not used to all this kindness she's been getting, if her tone is anything to judge by. Surprised, perhaps.

The surprise makes Shannon glance over. "You're Russian, right? And you were wealthy enough to learn to play something and do pottery, yet you're surprised at people being nice?" she asks, and now it's her who sounds surprised.

"Ah… not exactly… I am Russian, yes, but we were never wealthy," Katya shakes her head there, wealth but a distant dream. "Perhaps once, when things were better, perhaps my mother and father were. She was a pianist, before things got very bad. She taught me. It was not because we were so rich as to live a life of leisure, though. It is because I cannot be… too active. I was very sick, all through my life."

Shannon's head tilts and she looks Katya over head to toe and back. "You don't look sick. What is it you have?" she asks, tone more curious than gentle.

"It is… called Addison's Disease? It… I have medication now, so am mostly good. But still cannot push too much. But when we could not get the medicine, I would end up in the hospital and my mother, she worried." With good reason! Although Katya leaves out the near death bits. Too dramatic. "So I did gentle things, instead of… ah… like football."

"Addisons Disease? HEard of it, no idea what it is though," Shannon admits. "Nothing wrong with gentle stuff anyway." A bit more fiddling with the dishes then she nods to the table. "Have a seat. Food's almost ready. I'll feed ya before you head back to the Sweat Lodge."

"It is the adrenals? Mine do not work very well. And it makes me… very tired. Sometimes very nausea, or anxious. I sweat and shake and my muscles hurt… it even changes my skin, like this here…" Katya shows her hands, where the skin around her cuticles and in her knuckles is notably darker than the rest. "But when it gets very bad, it can be dangerous." When the food is mentioned, she smiles a little and sets the garlic back down to slink over into a seat.

"Ahh. That sucks. Maybe they'll find a cure or something soon?" Shannon suggests with a shrug. She plates up some of the food, chicken alfredo of some sort, and serves them both. Everyone else will serve themselves when they get hungry.

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