Quicksilver was in no hurry to get back from his extended mission. For him, it was nothing more than a waste of time and money. It was late evening and relatively dark, which made it difficult to see the camouflaged Brotherhood compound. Though it didn’t prove too difficult for Pietro, for he knew the complex like the back of his hand. And here he is, back at the exact time that Mags had given him to do his job. He inwardly groaned at the prospect of having more tedious conversations with Magneto and brainless training with the Brotherhood members. This held about as much excitement for him as an attempt at a hopeless recruitment. Though he didn’t leave on good terms with Magneto before the extended mission, he was sure that it would be no time before being summoned again. He didn’t exactly hate the man, but he was still sore over what happened with Wanda.

The second he opened the door was the second that he remembered exactly why he hated being here. The staleness of the air greeted his nostrils, which he promptly grimaced at. Noises could be heard from something unpleasant going on upstairs, which was enough to convince him that he could survey the damage done to his room later. Taking a quick look around, he noticed that there seemed to be no one around at the moment… though he was sure it wouldn’t last. Peace to oneself was valuable in this place, as most of the Brotherhood members weren’t exactly rays of sunshine. He also noticed that there were more fire extinguishers around than what he remembered. There must be some new trainee. He thought with dry sarcasm. Once he reached the kitchen, he instantly went to a window to let in some fresh air. Why must it always be so dark and musty at the compound? Sometimes it felt like he was living with a coven of vampires. For a moment, the distant city noises could be heard through the opening. Pietro felt a thrill going through his body at the idea of some action going on. The night was still young, and he wasn’t getting any younger, so why not get out tonight? Plans began to formulate at light speed in his brain as he opened the refrigerator. A pungent odor trailed out, causing him to slam it shut.

“That is disgusting.” He remarked contemptuously. In the end, he decided on an apple, tossing it in the air before taking a bite. An uneasy feeling came over him, and he suddenly became self-aware. His street smarts told him that he was being watched… or something similar to it. Acting as though he hadn’t noticed anything, he smoothly slid into a chair, his critical eyes staring off at nothing in particular. Though his lithe body appeared at ease, he was anticipating.

Taylor was a big fan of sleep. Really, she was. If it was up to her, these mutant issues would resolve themselves and she'd sleep 24/7. However, this was not possible, so she simply slept whenever she was able to or tired, really.

Now was not one of those times, despite it being late enough for her to be asleep.

For some reason or another, Taylor was awake... and hungry. It was probably her mutation taking it's toll on her, forcing her to feed herself something yummy and full of calories so she'd be able to create webbing and function properly. She'd been trying to doze off for at least a good hour, but nothing seemed to do the trick. She lied on one side, then the other, then her back, tried laying with her head at the other end of the bed, and even attempted to curl up on the floor, but to no avail. She was not falling asleep anytime soon... or at least maybe not until she got something to eat. She put on an old gray sweatshirt, nothing special, no hood or cute logo on it, just a plain, gray sweatshirt, and a pair of woolen, white socks because it was cold in the middle of the night, especially in December. So there was Taylor, short hair sticking out every which way and looking absolutely ridiculous from tossing around in her bed for so damn long, in a boring sweatshirt, boxers, and wool socks that came over her ankles.

Yes, she looked very much like an intimidating member of the Brotherhood.

She dragged herself out of her room quietly, careful not to wake any of the teammates who might be asleep. Many of the members of the Brotherhood had some anger issues and the last thing she wanted to do was wake up someone with the power to disintegrate human flesh or something and put them in a bad mood. So the young woman tippy-toed down the hallway, thinking about what she could make for herself that wouldn't make much noise. No smoothies or anything because that involved a blender. Probably didn't want to do anything that involved mixing because that was loud, too. Worst come to worst she could just make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But that was a complete waste of cooking talent and know-how, so that was an absolute last resort for her.

She made her way to the kitchen, expecting the lights to be out and the room to be well heated and emotionless, like much of the Brotherhood facilities. Things just lacked that homey feeling around here. To be fair, this was the base of a mutant organization, not someone’s Grandmother’s house out in the country. But as she approached the kitchen, she felt an uncomfortably cool breeze. What in the hell…? She peered into the kitchen, surprised to see someone she didn’t particularly know in there. Really? Who ate at this time of night? Other than her, of course, she figured most people were asleep by now and not eating. And certainly not with the window open. Her eyes followed the young man as he looked out the window, squinting in confusion. What was out there but the cold? The cold and the hateful people and the wars and God knows what else. She watched him move to the fridge and leaned on the door frame, absolutely silent. She could just barely repress that snicker that rose up in her throat as a wave of disgust seemed to wash over his face after looking in the fridge. She’d gotten used to that over powering, disgusting smell. Gotta if you wanna cook, after all.

Taylor just stood in the doorframe, feeling quite creepster-like as she just watched this man she didn’t even know sit down in a chair and start eating his apple. This was really way too stalkerish for her tastes. She really needed to just go back to her room and go to sleep… she had just started to turn when her stomach rumbled unhappily. Yeah, there was still that little deal with the need for some ridiculously high calorie food… with a soft, near inaudible sigh, she turned on her heel and took a step into the kitchen, trying to play herself casually and act like maybe she hadn’t been standing there watching him.

“You know, we’ve got more than apples. Better tasting things.”

Oh, yeah, that was slick. It totally didn’t make it seem like she’d been watching him and saw him take the apple. Good move, Taylor, you have officially made another bad first impression, her mind berated her. She crossed her arms over her chest, regarding the fellow mutant cautiously. He might be one of them whack-a-doos who didn’t like people and flipped out when talked to. She needed to be ready to get the hell out of there. Well, what she really needed was to stop being so damn paranoid, but that was neither here nor there.

[OOC: Wow… I’m really sorry about the delay. I’ve been really sick and life’s going all crazy on me right now.]

Quicksilver decided to slow his pace down when it came to eating, which is something he’s not normally suited for. It was the pace of a normal person, which he found enduringly sluggish and gradually aggravating… especially when hunger was the opposing principle. Yet here he was testing the limits of his self-control, which can sometimes lead into sporadic and rash behavior, while letting his mind run its usual velocity. While taking aggravatingly slow bites (which probably still seemed a bit fast for any average onlooker), he saw the suspected prowler finally enter the kitchen. A few seconds was all he needed to memorize her face for future reference even before she started speaking. As she was beginning to say something, he articulated that the young women was both unfamiliar to him and had probably just rolled out of bed. Her dark eyes betrayed the threshold of thought that seemed to be going through her mind despite the simple and tedious phrase that she spoke. He also noticed that she seemed uncomfortable with the cold air coming through the window, though he made no to move to close it. She seemed uncomfortable, yet he wasn’t, so he concluded that it should stay open. Besides he liked situations where he was at leisure at the other’s expense. Normally, his thoughts weren’t this supercilious (though they did lean that way), but he wasn’t jumping for joy at returning to the Brotherhood compound either and it didn’t make him any more courteous than what he normally was. Still… she seemed ok, so he would spare her the unpleasantries he donned on the others in the compound… as much as he could spare that is.

“You know, we’ve got more than apples. Better tasting things.”

Pietro was wondering what kind of a greeting this was. Though he wasn’t particularly fond of the whole charade of graciously welcoming/greeting new or unfamiliar brotherhood members, he wasn’t sure what to make of this blunt statement. No one had ever commented on what he ate before. He looked at his half eaten apple and mentally concluded that anything that seemed remotely natural was a whole lot better in his vocabulary than what he saw in that fridge. He finished chewing before giving her a half hearted attempt at a smirk. Man, was he out of it tonight.

”I’m not up for anything else at the moment.”
He couldn’t believe that he actually gave her a sentence that wasn’t laced with sarcasm. He was simply bored, the monotone in his voice as he spoke was enough to disclose it. As if to counter the second half of what she said, he took off another chunk of the apple and leisurely chewed it. Hmm… maybe eating slowly wasn’t so bad. Again, he noticed her stare, though this time he could tell that she was analyzing him, while staying close to the door. She was probably considering her chances of getting her head blown off for talking to him, which is a plausible fear in the brotherhood…literally. He knew that stance well.

”Were you going to come in? I don’t bite…unless you want me to."
Again he could feel that smirk creep into the corners of his mouth, though it disappeared as quickly as it had started.

[ooc: OH WHOA. Totally didn't notice you'd responded, I'm sorry! And it's all good, I know how that can be. xP ]

Some of Taylor's apprehension regarding actually getting some food dissipated as he spoke to her without firing guns, plasma blasts, or some other potentially fatal things at her. That pointed that he might not be one of those crazy people after all and she probably could go get some good without too much harassment. She shrugged at his response, folding her arms over her chest. Just because she was reassured by the fact he had not attacked her didn't mean she felt at ease. "Suit yourself," the girl said simply, watching him eat the apple. Really, an apple? Taylor could hardly imagine being content with an apple. But with her insane metabolism and mutation, she needed a bus load of calories to make webbing and could hardly imagine settling for anything like an apple. She was all for healthy foods and what have you, but it would need to be like... an apple alongside of bowl of stir fried noodles and vegetables atop rice or something to strike her fancy (and caloric needs).

She eased her way cautiously into the room at his words, scooting over the kitchen tiles on her wool socks almost silently. "Oh, haha," she remarked dryly. "You don't bite unless I want you to. That is by far the most clever thing I have heard ever in life ever." Her words were just dripping with sarcasm that may not have been there ten seconds ago. But the remark was just to cliche for her to not say something on it, so her sense of manners, quite frankly, left her. She went to the fridge, the putrid smell hardly even phasing her as she pulled out what appeared to be a carton of eggs and a bag of cheese. She closed the fridge and opened the freezer, pulling out bags of frozen vegetables. "You know what actually kind of pathetic?" she suddenly said as she laid her ingredients on the counter and went to digging about in cabinets for dry ingredients, measuring cups, and a saucepan. "That probably is the most clever thing I've heard today at least. Not a lot of good quips around here, actually. You say one thing and it's rewarded with a punch in the guts." She punched her fist into her open palm for emphasis, looking over her shoulder at him and glancing briefly at the open window. God damn. It was cold outside...! How could he stand having that open? "Not much in the way of clever remarks."

She began to crack the eggs into a bowl she'd gotten, adding water, salt, and pepper before beginning to beat it with a whisk. "I'm Taylor, by the way. Taylor Hill. Or Arachnid, whichever you think is my 'real name' or whatever." She shrugged, eying the window a moment more before setting down her bowl. In the saucepan she'd gotten out she placed a teaspoon of oil and set it on the stove to heat up, dumping out the contents of the bags of veggies into the oil. It looked from a distance that she'd gotten some broccoli, pea pods, all sorts of peppers, onions, and tiny carrots. She dumped the half full bag of cheddar cheese on top of that and drew in some butter for good measure. Taylor stirred the mix of foods which let off what she thought to be an entirely appetizing aroma as they heated. She looked at her food in the works, then back to the currently nameless man.

"You sure you don't want anything other than an apple? That's pretty boring. I'm making an omelette. With apricot cream. But that's optional. And some toast. And maybe orange juice. I can make you something if you can think of better things than 'I don't bite unless you want me to'." That same smirk that had just briefly crept onto his face sprung to hers, though hers was probably a bit more playful and it certainly remained and didn't vanish nearly as quickly as his.

It was the hundredth time Sescie rolled over in bed. She yawned and sat up. No, it was no use, she thought grimly. She knew she couldn't sleep, she was too restless. About what? Everything. Combined with the hunger ebbing in her stomach, Sescie was about to go crazy. She had stayed up in her room all day, reluctant to come down. She had a problem with new people, especially since new recruits were coming in every another day. Sescie stiffled another yawn and stretched.

Sescie debated in her mind for a few minutes whether to go down to the kitchen to get some food. A delicious fruit, or perhaps a glass of warm milk. Despite the screaming protests in her head, the tempeation of a glass of frothy lukewarm milk and an apple was too strong to resist. She threw off her bed covers and walked out of her room, not bothering to change out of her singlet and shorts. She wore singlets everywhere anyway. As she walked down the hallway, she smiled in anticipation of her midnight snack. Hmm...

As she approached the kitchen, she heard voices. Sescie frowned, for she hoped that it would be deserted. She liked her peace and quiet, but obviously it was not going to be her way this time. She wondered if she should turn around and go back to her room. No, Sescie knew she wouldn't get any sleep unless she filled her stomach with at least a glass of milk. Sescie stepped across the treshhold and stopped, hesitating again. Come on, make up your mind, Sescie growled to herself. She took a deep breath and strided in.

She saw Pietro lounging on a chair easily, eating an apple. Sescie's mouth watered. Then she saw a girl, which she recognized as Taylor or Arachnid, busying herself in front of the stove. Already a delicious waft of melting butter was creeping up her nose. Sescie stood still and breathed in deep, thinking how long it was since she smelled something that good. She admitted she wasn't a good cook herself, and there was probably no one in the Brotherhood who would take the time to cook. And they'd most likely send her a death glare if she asked. Not that she minded, she could glare right back. Hah.

Sescie felt her stomach growling. It was snack time. She stepped forward, her bare feet making soft thumps on the floor as she walked, making her presense known.