Mask or Menace ☂ IC Phone Post

[numberthree]

INBOX Voice | Text | Call | Video | Surprise Me A flat computer automated voice comes on and states in monotone: "This is the voicemail box for Allison Hargreeves. Leave a message at the beep."

Luther

Diego

Klaus

Five

Ben

Vanya

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Comments

text;

[timehit]

[ Let's not call this a check-in. The whole Luther situation is...a raw wound for all involved, and it's not something he particularly wants to stick his face in directly. Five can drum up equations for all manner of temporal issues, direct all of his focus for thwarting an apocalypse. But some things currently remain out of his element.

Regardless, he doesn't keep himself entirely outside of things either. But how does one even go about the not-so-simple task of looking out for your two family members who, just like you, are stuck in a time and place outside the natural order? Well, here's a start. ]

What do you know about cooking?

[numberthree]

[ Allison is a little surprised, but it's an easy enough question. ]

Depends.

Are we talking the macaroni or Julia Childs end of the spectrum here?

[timehit]

Let's start with basic competency. Claire must've insisted on her favorites from time to time, as I'm sure we all did. But admittedly there's no real finesse in assembling a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich.

Well?

[numberthree]

Not to mention any of the numerous times I lived alone, and not no constant take out due to my job, or the fact my house, even while being a star, didn't have a live-in chef of any kind.

[ But she totally knew enough people who did. ]

So,yes. I can cook generally.

Why? What are you trying to cook?

[timehit]

[ Five has learned to dig down deep to find some personal, albeit deranged version of solace. Needling Allison just enough to see that spark of fire in her text (not in her voice), well, let's say it's more of a comfort than what he could scavenge from burnt up celebrity magazines hidden in some supermarket rubble. ]

My roommate here, did I mention to you that he's also a trained superhero? And did you know he learned to cook on his own as well?

Katsudon, of all things.

I don't intend to start at Japanese home-cooking, but something more than MREs and cockroaches would be...nice.

[numberthree]

[ It's the fourth word from the end of that last sentence that Allison stares at, trying to judge whether he's being serious, and finding herself a little more horrified that she can be annoyed at the idea it could, reasonably, have a percentage of the capability to be true. She wants to ask. She doesn't. She does.

The only thing that keeps her from typing something that is only about that is that she's not sure she wants to ask it across the city. It might be forever showing up in her vision, but it's not the same as being in the same place. And he wants to learn, which means making it worse ... may just make it worse.

Five doesn't ask for help. For information, yes. Help, no.
When it comes to needing them, he orders.
He yells. Swears. Insults. Ignores.

Even if this doesn't have a question mark, it is one. A question. A request for help. ]


Yeah, we could do that. Do you have anything you'd like to start with? Breakfast food is usually a good go-to and the world is finally correctly of the notion breakfast food is an all day food.

[timehit]

Since it seems we have nothing but time aplenty on our hands here, I suppose something as basic as breakfast should prove suitable to start.

As much as I've seen of your kitchen, I can't say I've come to a solid conclusion as to your general dining habits.

[ Lack of politeness, lack of perceivable gratitude, the inference that he is already growing accustomed to coming and going from their apartment apparently at his own whims—well, it's what you can expect from Five, isn't it?

Of course, that he shows even a hint that needs assistance, that he lacks some basic skill when he was gloating over the kitchen in a not too distant memory that he could do anything...Allison tipped her cards a little before, showed just a glimpse of her hand. Uncertainty, concern.

Maybe this could be seen as a small gesture in return. ]

[numberthree]

It's, honestly, not all that exciting on the daily, and it depends a lot more on when I get out rather than Luther, since his hours are at least flatly set for his workdays and mine depend more on what is scheduled and where the location happens to be on that day.

[ It was definitely an odd and interesting adjustment. Getting assignments in a number of cities. Wake up here, roll out early, catch the porter, do the job, and back to this city whenever it was over. The way distance started to just feel different even as the time in a day didn't change. ]

Eggs and bacon is pretty easy. We could look at egg casseroles, if you want something that you can eat several mornings in a row. Pancakes are always a good option.


[ The words send.
The dots ceases.

Then a second later they start again,
and in true fashion to herself, she adds. ]

Anything but oatmeal.

[timehit]

I wouldn't accuse you of being so tasteless, Allison.

But the rest of it does imply a proper shopping list. Since I'm the one with time on my hands [ He can't even get a kitchen job, after all! Meanwhile, his siblings are given appropriate work to their honest ages. No, he isn't done being annoyed over that either. ] I'll take it upon myself to make sure you have the supplies needed.

[numberthree]

You'd be surprised. I kept it from Claire until she discovered it at a daycare of all places. There was my no peace in the house if she couldn't have it regularly for the next six months.

[ You can probably well assume for yourself the state of Allison's expression.
Even with that wave of Claire's life over. Just the whole thought of the whole thing. ]

Not that any of us knew, but it came in over a dozen flavors.

All of them, still terrible.

[ Did she have to try? Obviously not.
Was she still regretting such a lapse in judgement? Probably. ]