New Plan, Step One: Provide For My Community [open]

[summerdude]

Magnus needs something to change, so when a Mansion calendar helpfully informs him that it's International Falafel Day back on Earth, he goes to the library for some cookbooks, and then to the kitchen.

He lays out ten different falafel recipes. He gathers the ingredients they list, as best as he can understand them. He has canned chickpeas and fresh chickpeas and dried chickpeas and chickpea flour and box mixes of falafel that say 'just add water!'

Cripes.

"I can do this," he says, peering at the assorted recipes intently for a good ten minutes, and then takes the dried chickpeas over to the sink to rinse and soak.

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

He manages not to sigh. He does appreciate what Magnus is trying to do here, but he still feels there's an essential disconnect.

"Magnus, I don't believe I am fated to make the same errors. But I can't undo what's already happened, for them."

[summerdude]

"But it's close," Magnus argues, obstinate. He does wonder, a little, why he's fighting Lancelot on this. Like, he doesn't think Galahad wants a father to come through and deliver the same way Magnus does, and goading Lancelot into a place where maybe that might happen isn't, like, Magnus's job. (Unlike all the other things that are Magnus's job: making sure there's food; making sure Shen Yuan's body is okay and growing as quickly as it can without incident; making sure Sunny has someone to talk to; making sure Alex feels loved and supported; making sure Luo Binghe doesn't feel totally alone; making sure Claudius has a Sword Guy in close proximity when Galahad is training, which therefore also means making sure Magnus is keeping up with his own secret training; making sure he also keeps up with his own meditation; making sure he doesn't get overwhelmed or burnt out and therefore being unable to do any of the other jobs. Et cetera.)

Whatever. In some weird way, now that (most of) the heat has been taken out of it, sniping with Lancelot has become one of the things that actually makes Magnus feel more grounded. It's familiar. It's often kind of fun. He crosses his arms again. "Aren't you, like, friends with Sagramore?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Yes. He is one of my closest friends, here or anywhere."

[summerdude]

"Why?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"What do you mean, why?" There's a little laugh, "He is kind, and a good advisor, and he encourages enjoyment. He knows me well, and understands me."

[summerdude]

"Why, when your alternate future self did bad stuff to him?" Magnus asks, pointedly.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"He has said that here and now, I am different. That is well but," a flat look, "Sagramore is not Galahad."

[summerdude]

"Fine, be obstinate," says Magnus, obstinately.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs, at last, "So I shall. I am clearly well matched."

[summerdude]

Magnus rolls his eyes and flips Lancelot off, but he's flipping him off in a fun way. It's kind of like his desultory salutes. There's no heat behind it, and in fact he is (he finds) grinning.

"You wanna help me figure out these falafel?" he asks. The chickpeas have been soaking for, like, twenty minutes; surely that's long enough.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Yes," tentatively, "provided you aren't planning to argue with me the whole while."

[summerdude]

"No, no, I'm done." Well. He's tabling the conversation for at least twenty-four hours. "We can talk about something else."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Very well, then. Tell me what I should do."

[summerdude]

"Chop an onion? Rough. I'm going to find a food processor." Somehow, due to the low linearity of the mansion, Magnus has learned what food processors look like but has not yet learned that the chickpeas require more than a twenty-minute soaking.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"That, I can do." He grabs a knife, finds an onion, and gets to work.

[summerdude]

It only takes Magnus a minute or two in the pantry before he's lugging the food processor back out into the main kitchen. Double-checking the recipe reveals that baking soda should soften the chickpeas some more, so he dumps some into the bowl and sets into peeling a head of garlic with his hands. "So," he says. "What do you want to talk about?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Are you pleased with your progress?" This is about as circumspect as he can make the question, and he asks it casually, his attention on his task.

[summerdude]

"Yeah," says Magnus, depositing individual cloves into the processor as he peels them. "I think so, right? There's, like, a whole theory behind, um..." He glances around. "Competitive knitting, isn't there?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He stifles a chuckle, but he does smile. "So there is. I have always found it interesting."

[summerdude]

"I think I'm starting to actually get it," Magnus admits. "You know, beyond, like, um. Yarn here, needle there, poke an eye out."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He glances over, "Yes?"

[summerdude]

"Yeah. I mean, don't you think?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot nods. "I have seen good progress. Your control is better, you seem less flustered. You were talented when you began, but you are honing that talent."

[summerdude]

"Cool," says Magnus, scuffing his toe on the ground as he peels another clove. "Good."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Do you think it will be useful to you?"