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"You don't mind me giving lessons back at the school, do you?" Danielle asks. Not for the first time. She tends to worry a bit, even if she can't articulate why she worries. She's sitting on a bench, carefully inspecting the simple arrows she used for her class up at Xavier's the other day. Damaged arrows, no matter how minor, go into the pile to her left. The others go to her right. It's a process, because it's a loooot of arrows.
"Why would I mind?" she asks. "You never miss a performance when you have to be here at night. You get a bit extra money." Amanda shrugs, as she putters around putting together their meal. Benches are super useful as seating along the length of the vardo's interior. "How were the kids this time?"
Snort. "Utterly hopeless. But improving." It's possible Dani is channeling her own PE coach, but at least she grins when she grumbles. "Nobody's shot their own feet or their classmates yet, so I figure I must be doing something right." More sorting is followed by even more sorting. "Not to mention it keeps us on friendly terms with the School. Just in case." In case 'something' comes up that the two of them can't handle.
Amanda Sefton lifts her eyebrows. By now she's found a pot and has poured water into it. Vegetables get chopped next! "In case what?" she asks. There's also the unsaid 'I'm not a mutant' bit. More than she's sure the school wouldn't allow her to lounge about simply because she's in a relationship with an instructor.
Danielle slowly twirls one of the arrows in her fingers. "In case the stuff… out there.." Waggling the arrow vaguely wilderness-wards. "Gets out of hand to the point where we need help. Or if racist bullshit out there…" Now waggling the arrow the other direction, towards the City, "Means the Circus needs to quickly relocate. Or if something goes trippy with my powers and you need an expert's help. I don't know, honey. I'm not predicting badness. But a 'just in case' isn't a bad thing to keep around. Like one of those 'get out of jail free' cards from Monopoly."
As she chops, she spares a moment to lift her hand, as though she's in a classroom. Dutifully, Amanda waits just long enough until Dani calls on her. "Pumping people full of arrows isn't an option?"
Danielle smirks at the lifted hand, and calls, "Yes, the cute one with the cute tush?" When Amanda asks the question, Dani takes a lonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng moment before sighing wistfully and answering, "Sadly, not as often as you might think. Time was, a few well-placed arrows could solve any number of problems…"
"Follow up question: I can't simply turn the offending person or persons into frogs?" Amanda's back is to Dani, as she works on their dinner, but it's obvious in the tone of her voice: she is grinning hugely at the idea.
"Hmmmm… I think the law is much less clear on frogs," Danielle muses with a grin in her own voice. When she reaches a stopping point with the arrow-inspection, she slides to her feet and meanders closer to investigate the increasingly tasty smells of dinner. "Mmmm, making my stomach growl.."
Amanda Sefton rolls her eyes. "It's a stew," she protests. Not that she doesn't know how to cook or anything. But. It's not like they've gone out to dinner at that one place in Mutant Town or something! "But I'm glad you think it smells good."
Danielle grins and lightly pokes her girlfriend's rib. "You act like making stew is a simple thing. Maybe it is, but making /good/ stew takes talent," she observes. "I can make a passable chili, but all of my stews turn out like lumpy vegetable water."
Amanda Sefton, of course, squirms when she's poked. It's part of the game after all. "Last time, you just put chopped vegetables in hot water!" she tease-protests.
"Well!" Dani mock-grumps. "I thought that's what you were doing." She can prep some foodstuff, but much more complicated than sandwiches and she gets lost. She eases back, giving Amanda room to do her culinary wizardry, and plops down on her favorite cushion. "You know… The other day, I was wandering through town. Past that electronics store on the corner of… oh, wherever it is. They had a television set in the window, and there was some tall lady cooking up a chicken. Just her, in the kitchen, cooking and talking to the viewer." She sounds bemused. The girlfriend of a witch, rider of a flying horse, shieldmaiden of Asgard, mutant of psionic gifts, slayer of crazed demons. And Julia Child leaves her almost dumbfounded.
"Julia Child," Amanda offers. Of course she only knows this through other reasons, she's never owned a television herself. "What about her?" She leans a little bit into Danielle's direction, while making sure she can still comfortably chop-chop and add things as necessary.
It's nice to be comfortable and cozy. Vardos are super good for that. "Mmm. I don't know. There was something about her." She trails off a minute, then recalls, "I know. I watched for a couple of minutes, and I remember she was slicing an onion. Half of it slipped right off her cutting board and onto the floor, and she just laughed and grabbed another one." She pauses to reflect, then adds, "She wasn't one of those rehearsed and slick television people. She felt real. Genuine. You know? I don't think I've ever seen that on those things before."
"I don't think I've heard of that happening before. Everything is.. what's the word." She frowns, wriggling her nose. "I hate trying to think in English sometimes." She thinks, the chopping becoming a little more firm each time until.. "AHA! Prerecorded!"
"Exactly. It's all so carefully controlled. I haven't paid much attention to those things, but … a normal person, cooking normal food? That's…" Dani fumbles over the words herself, searching for the right one. "I don't know. Relatable? It was tempting to go in and listen to the rest of the program, but I had to keep going."
"You almost make me wish we could have a television," Amanda murmurs. "Watching her with you sounds like something that would be nice." The veggies get dumped unceremoniously into the pot, which allows Amanda to promptly fuss over spices. She's totally not finicky about that. REally. She swears.
Danielle grins. "If that sounds appealing, maybe I'll pick up her cookbook, and read it to you all romantically late at night." She shifts her tone to 'soft-n-purry': "One tablespoon baking powder, three-quarters of a cup of flour. Two eggs…."
Amanda Sefton rolls her eyes, giving Dani a gentle nudge with her elbow. "You're horrible," she mock-protests. She slips away from the other woman to bend down and fuss over her spices. More fussing, yay! "How spicy do we feel like having our stew tonight?"
"A notch or two above normal, I think?" Dani opines, declining to refute the 'horrible' accusation. "If it rains tonight, that little extra bit of heat will be even better…"
Another eyeroll, but Amanda grins. She selects the appropriate spices and stands anew… and goes through her ritual of 'shake some spice out… then pour more in'. Just once this time, which is pretty good. She's done it up to three times per spice before. "It better not rain tonight," she says. "Dahlia still isn't done fixing our quilt."
Danielle grunts at that, frowning faintly. "Hardly seems like a proper cuddle without that quilt," she grumps, then exhales slowly. "I thought it was just a few stitches that needed doing. Thought she'd be done by now."
Amanda Sefton pokes at Dani's belly. "If you're going to be grumpy about it we can go see her after we eat," she says. "Wouldn't want you to be fussy and sleepy tomorrow when you need to wow everyone riding your horse."
"I am never fussy!" Danielle protests. Pauses. Glares through the wall. "And you can shut your horseface." Humf. "I'll be fine, promise. I just really dig our quilt, is all."
Amanda Sefton rolls her eyes. "Of course. Now go get some bowls and spoons for us. And a serving spoon." She keeps stirring and shaking this and that into the stew. "And I am not a horseface!"
Danielle makes a little face as she starts gathering the requested dinnerware. "Sorry, didn't mean you. I meant featherbutt out yonder, who chose just then to offer /his/ opinion on things." Few things are as interesting to live with as a smug horse in one's head. After a bit of a rummage, she produces two bowls, two spoons, and a larger spoon. "Here we go…"
"You tell him I've got some apples for him too," she assures. Interesting having to do a bit of shopping for a horse, but well. Also took a bit of explaining - it's not that Amanda doesn't trust the ones who take care of the animals, it's that he's very particular who feeds him. It's all the horse's fault! At least people understand. "Thank you, sweetie." She pecks Dani's cheek. "Shall we?"