myironeyes | Uncle Spikes Wants You (for barge chef)

[Public Video]

[For those who have not seen Marsh before - and he does keep to himself, sometimes - the sight of him and the steel spikes pounded bloodlessly through his eye sockets may be a bit of a shock.]

Esther Coleman has departed from the barge. Her cabin has reverted to standard.

She was not a kind young woman, but the world was not kind with her, and she - she had very little hope in her life. But she carried on.

[Brief though it is, it is a very sincere eulogy, one he feels a great deal of kinship for. He hopes the kitchen was a small solace to her, while she worked their - a place she could be respected purely for her performance, a place where she need not hide or pretend or be interrogated. But now he'll never know.]

We are now short six kitchen staff inmates, and although we appreciate our volunteer on-call wardens greatly, this cannot continue.

Wardens, if your inmates' files contain no poisoning or cannibalism, they are now candidates for kitchen work. Inmates, if you're getting bored of our current staples -

[Barge food isn't bad, but neither Marsh nor Ben are especially creative.]

- the position comes with considerable menu control.

If we don't get at least four new inmate staff, I will start drafting people.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Seriously, that's the biggest incentive you have? Menu control?

There may also be pie.

[Which is enough to slam the gates down on anything in Dean's expression and voice that wasn't explicit annoyance.]

Spend less time baking, more time thinking efficiently.

I don't bake anymore.

[Plain, unperturbed.]

Aside from breads. With staff I'll have time again.

What sort of efficiencies are you concerned about?

Low staff, high population. Volume that's easy to throw on a plate.

[This is flat, the kind of reasoning from someone who has lost the nuance between surviving and living. He also doesn't pretend for a moment he's saying anything Marsh doesn't already know.]

[He really isn't.]

You should come demonstrate.

You're right. I should totally fall for really basic reverse psychology, give in to machismo, and come down there to donate some labor.

Did those things poke you in the brain, Hellraiser?

Edited 2014-12-10 08:25 (UTC)

Thoroughly.

[Head tilt.]

Wouldn't reverse be 'you can't possibly do it better, don't show up?'

Do I look like a psychologist to you?

(no subject)

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The fuck? You can't make me put Loki on kitchen duty. He'll flip his shit.

Then I suggest you encourage others.

...Okay, maybe we can put Loki on kitchen duty, but only because it would be hilarious seeing him in an apron.

Why is that hilarious?

Because he's literally a god.

I have known gods.

He seems...petty, for a god.

You nailed him.

But I don't think he'd actually poison anyone.

I don't think he's actually a god.

But good enough.

Well, the Vikings thought they were pretty rad. When you're human, with a short life span and no powers, you tend to look up to guys like him.

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[Jean wilts, a little bit, face closing and shoulders dropping.]

She was - she was getting better. [It was slow and difficult and complicated but Jean believed, with all her heart, that Esther could make it. And now -

She takes a breath. Dwelling on it won't bring her back, will it?]

If you need help until you find more people, I can lend a hand.

She was.

Thank you.

[For the offer, and for - caring, better than Marsh could.]

Sure. [She musters a smile.] I wish Julia were here, she's the real chef in the family.

Tell me about her?

She's about eight years older than me - when I was ten she was already in college. But she wrote to us a lot - she sent pictures of all her culinary experiments. [She grins.] Especially the disastrous ones.

By the time I was in the X-Men, she had her own restaurant. I've only been there a few times, but it's just like her - bright and cheery and comfortable. She was always like that - she could always make you feel welcome.

When I finally told my parents I was a mutant - she sent me an invitation, said she'd cook for me and all the X-Men on the house. [Her voice is wavering a little, now.] I never got to go, though. Too much was going on, and then...

I'm sorry.

[Simple, gentle. Not for bringing it up, just - the way things turn out.]

Thank you. [Marsh's plain, quiet sincerity has always been a comfort, no matter what's plaguing her.] I - when I go home [when] - I want to try and change that. Be close to my first family, again.

[She doesn't want to endanger them, but - maybe that shouldn't be her choice alone.]