fandomhighdorms | Second Floor Common Room; Late-Morning to Lunchtime, Sunday [ 09/19 ].

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Second Floor Common Room; Late-Morning to Lunchtime, Sunday [ 09/19 ].

It had been Alexander's turn to pick what he and Scully would be making for lunch, so, of course, they were going to be taking on the ambitious but familiar project of a roasted whole chicken, bread, and vegetables. Of course, this would take a bit longer than pasta or other options, but, really, with the convenience of modern ovens, it was still going to be much quicker than the methods Alexander was more accustomed to.

Still, he got to the common room with their foodstuffs a little early, getting a start on the prep work until Scully arrived. In a few short hours, they'd have a wonderful, delicious meal to enjoy and share.

Hopefully.

[[ Alexander's cooking with

showmetheproof, but of course the common room is open! Feel free to tag in after the food is finished, too! Up a little early since there'll be slow-to-no-play from me in a little bit until evening! ]]

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Scully wandered in with a small yawn, then smiled when she saw her co-chef already in residence. "Alexander. What are we working on today?" She opened the fridge to retrieve a drink, then joined him at the stove. "And ha. No zombies or disembodied hands. I'm in favor of that."

"Ha, yes, indeed," Alexander grinned faintly. "I am, as well. While I prefer my food dead, I don't have much of a taste for it being undead. I was thinking chicken, some bread, and vegetables. A good basic but hearty meal."

"Roasted, broiled, fried...?" Scully asked, starting to hunt for spices. "Fried might be a little ambitious... And now I'm wondering if anything tried to eat the zombie fish on Friday."

~~Ew, Raven. Ew.~~

"Roasted, I was thinking," Alexander said. "That's what I'm most familiar with, myself. And...is that the sort of thing you'd really want to know the answer to? I mean, perhaps if it was prepared very, very smoked..."

"The amount of bacteria alone--" Scully shuddered, putting parsley, lemon salt, tarragon, and sage down on the counter. "The terrifying thing is I'm sure someone here knows someone who's tried it. Ugh. Or sushi zombie." She paused. "Okay, new topic before I lose my appetite. What are your plans for the week?"

Alexander snorted, hoping his fairly expert and somewhat brutal handling of removing the chicken's spine didn't add to Scully's decreasing appetite. He put in a bowl; of course they would be starting some broth with it later.

"I can't say I have any particular ones," he admitted. "Classes, of course. Work on Wednesday. The reserves meetings. Typical week, I suppose. Yourself?"

She'd taken a pizza out of a guy's stomach, once, and then ordered one of her own. Scully wouldn't have eaten the dead guy's pizza, though.

"Pretty much the same, although I think I need to visit the Library, I haven't been in there more than once, I think, early in the summer." She considered the vegetables and got out a knife. "And training for a 5k race next month. Running around the island and timing myself."

"Running around the island?" asked Alexander, intrigued, taking out more of the less desirable parts of the chicken and plopping them into the bowl. "For any particular reason?"

She'd wanted to feel in control again, after realizing she was stuck at 15?

"Partly for endurance, partly to raise money. If I train right, there's a marathon in March I'd like to attempt," Scully said, chop, chop, chop, chop. "Do you have marathons, back where you're from?" A spear of pepper went into her mouth, mmm, then back to chop chop steady chop.

"No," Alexander admitted with a little bit of a chuckle, "so I have to admit, I don't think I followed that as well as I could have."

"Footraces of endurance," Scully said, smiling at him from her side of the kitchen island, then putting the chopped vegetables in the colander as she made progress. "A marathon is about 26 miles. It can take five to eight hours to finish, so you have to train up to it gradually. And I'm going to try to get people to pledge amounts of money if I finish the course, to give to charity." She grinned, and bit into a carrot. "That clearer?"

"A bit," Alexander said, not willing to admit that it still seemed a little strange to him, but he chuckled. "Still, when you do start collecting money, please let me know. I'd love to contribute."

"It won't be until spring. There's a couple races before then, one next month. Much shorter." She started cutting up the potatoes, and asked, "So what was your favorite 'date' last night?" And no, she wasn't fishing for compliments, just genuinely curious.

"That's not fair!" Alexander said, laughing again. "Not fair at all! It's clearly a tie between two particular ones. Maybe I'll tell you, if you tell me yours."

Scully laughed, and threw a slice of pepper at him, then considered. "You're right, it isn't fair. Still, I liked meeting Cloud, since he was a complete stranger. And seemed to have an amusing sense of humor. You, Wesley and Christian I'd at least spoken to before. Ariel was amusing, although I don't think I'll get a word in edgewise the next time we talk."

"I ask for a favorite and you give me the complete coverage of the entire event." So Alexander, of course, threw the pepper back. At least he didn't return fire with a chicken giblet. "And you'll have to forgive me, I could never choose a favorite between yourself and Harper, as I enjoy the company of both of you greatly."

Scully blocked the use of the pepper as a weapon by eating it, and smiled at Alexander. "I could say that it was very good to see you there, and a relief? I don't think I've met Harper. Although she's probably in one of my classes and I'm just unaware of it." She considered. "My roommate would probably have mocked me if she'd known I'd gotten dragged into that."

"I have to admit," said Alexander, "it was not the sort of thing I'd expect to ever engage in, but I am glad to have had the experience. Harper actually got me my job at Things Reborn; she's fantastically creative. I can hardly believe the things she can do with a bucket of paint and a bottle of glitter."

"I'll have to stop by. Most of our furniture is very... plain." A little color wouldn't hurt. Probably. She paused, not sure how to phrase the question that came to mind. "Did you expect an arranged marriage, or something, after you became a prince?"

"Err..."

Way to go, Scully. You made Alexander squirm. Not that it was very difficult. He put a little extra attention into making sure the oven was preheated.

"Well, no, not really. I mean, there is talk that they might have to arrange one for my sister, just because she seems so severely against the idea that she'd likely die a spinster otherwise, but, I, er, well...there was really more focus on my adaptation to the situation before establishing much of that."

"I'm sorry. That was intrusive," Scully said, feeling slightly chagrined. "I suppose that's one more thing they wouldn't want to put on you... How old is your sister?" she asked, trying to shift the topic, and starting to slice the bread to put butter on it before heating it in the oven.

Subtle, Scully. Real subtle.

Alexander, still blushing, shook his head. "No, no, it wasn't intrusive at all. It's just...well...I already know who I would like to marry. In fact, I believe I am destined to be with her forever. If only I could find her..."

"Really?" Scully stopped, looking up with round, interested eyes. "Wait. Find her? I'm confused."

"It's a long story," Alexander warned.

So, of course he didn't mind telling her.

"Her name is...Cassima," his voice would forever grow wistful, his eyes a little distant, whenever he said her name and it was probably a good thing he had yet to pick up a sharp knife. "We met when she aided my father in rescuing us from an evil magician that had enslaved her and kidnapped my family and shrunk us and our entire castle. She is the most beautiful, brave, and clever woman I have ever had the honor of making the acquaintance of, but, alas! Though we discussed my traveling to her home, the Land of the Green Isles, I have never been able to locate the position of such a land since we last departed. I have searched far and wide; I believe I have gone through nearly every atlas at the library, but still, there is nothing, nothing at all! It's as if it's just...vanished!"

"That's a very pretty name," Scully said, settling in for a good listen.

Awwwwww. Alexander sounded thoroughly smitten.

She frowned, then said, "So when your castle was returned to its original position, she didn't go along? And you didn't have a direction, or a hint about to where?"

Smitten was the nice way to put it; most would just call it obsession.

"Nothing more than a name," Alexander sighed, shaking his head. "When Cassima and my father defeated Mordack, the wizard Crispin was able to send us all home. My family back to Daventry, and Cassima back to hers. It was the last I saw of her."

"So you knew here for... how long?" Scully checked, and paused. "So, you two-- talked this over?"

"Er, well, we, uh, only met that one time...."

Scully gave him a look. "And she's how old, too?" Chop. Chop. Chop.

"I do not exactly know," Alexander admitted with another flare to his blushing. "It did not exactly come up in the conversation, but I believe we are of a very similar age, if not very close."

Scully felt very, very thirty-five, all of a sudden, and sighed. Still sweet, the whole thing, but who knew how Alexander would find Cassima again? Or when?

Teenagers. Sheltered, romantic, idealistic... lucky, maybe, but who knew?

"I'm glad you have someone that special to you," she settled for, putting the potatoes into the colander. "And I hope you find your Land of the Green Isles. Or she finds Fandom, or something."

"I was just telling Maladicta last night," Alexander said with a faint, sheepish smile, "I keep hoping perhaps she'll be sent here by her own parents, and, at the start of the semester, there she'll be, at the welcome picnic, and we'll be reunited again."

Of course, what Alexander didn't know were that Cassima's parents were actually dead and she was currently being forced into marriage by their murderer so that he could take over the kingdom.

Wah-waaaaaah.

"That would be convenient, wouldn't it?" Scully sympathized, reaching up into the cabinet to get out the vegetable oil. "I don't suppose you can find her with someone's magic here. That would probably be far too complicated."

"Do...do you suppose someone might have that ability?" Alexander asked, almost too afraid to get his hopes up.

She stopped to really think about it a moment, and then said, "Welllll... I know of two people who teleport, and various people who do magic at the Reserves-- wouldn't it seem like a matter of finding the right... spell?" Scully paused. "I can't believe I actually just said that."

It couldn't be that simple, could it? Could it really be just finding the right spell? Had Alexander's aversion to using magic really lead him to looking into the wrong books this whole time?

He might need to think about that one. Until he could, he gave a faint smile. "You can't? Why not?"

"I'm a scientist! I believe in measuring and calculating every course of action, in investigating based on solid data... magic, it's-- from what I've seen? It's all emotion. It's art. It's unpredictable." She grimaced, stirring some of the spices into the oil. "Obviously some natural laws must be at work, but they haven't been codified, and the musicians and painters and poets of the mind have taken it over. There's no way you'd know what to expect."

"Science is an art, too," Alexander pointed out, the grin gaining a little more. "Cooking is an art. Sure, it's codified things, but magic, as I know it anyway, is very similar. A lot of mixing of the correct items, elements, words, energy. There's no way to know what to expect if you don't know what you're doing. The same could go for science and cooking..."

"So you think magic is an art, *and* a science. Like food." Scully dumped the vegetables in the pan, looking dubious, but considering what he was saying. "I just don't have any context for magical systems," she realized. "I know more about painting than I do about how magic really works, even with various explanations." She studied him. "Would you feel comfortable with it?"

"Comfortable...with explaining it? Or....?"

Because if she meant showing her, the answer was definitely no, although he was wondering if it should be. He...did sort of bring it up.

"Using it. To find Cassima," Scully said, waving a ladle, then paused. "Although I'd love an explanation, if you feel qualified to give one."

"Oh," Alexander blinked a little. "I hadn't....thought about it. To be honest, I..."

Clearing his throat, he lowered his head as he also lowered his voice. "I actually prefer to avoid the fact that I can even do it. But I suppose you're right; if I were to find the right spell...For...for the most part, most magic in my world is a combination of the right ingredients, the right words, just like cooking really...If...if I had the right spell and the right components...."

"Maybe you could at least figure out some kind of interdimensional phone call. Mirror call? Something." Scully nodded, keeping her voice down. "I could be totally wrong. There's all those books at the magic shop too, though, as well as the Library."

"We do have a magic mirror at home," Alexander said. "My father first saw my mother through it, in fact. But, unfortunately," and here his smile went incredibly wry, "I am not home. But you're right that there might be another alternative..."

Kurt poked his head in the room and looked at the preparations. "Is it dinnertime already!?!?!"

"We're doing a bit of a heavy lunch today," Alexander said with a laugh. "Don't worry. It should be delicious, and plenty of leftover. Would you like to help? Keeping us company also counts as help, by the way."

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Second Floor Common Room; Late-Morning to Lunchtime, Sunday [ 09/19 ].

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