boxolawyers | Magic shows are meant to have surprises, right?

Current Location: Los Angeles

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Magic shows are meant to have surprises, right?

[Los Angeles was everything Kurt Wagner could have hoped for and then some. True, most of the touristy stuff he had seen and celebrity sightings so far were spotted in the course of work (which in this case involved checking out a potential new student for the institute) so he couldn't exactly spend a lot of time drinking them in. But that didn't make it any less awesome. And now that the work was done, it was going to get even cooler!]

[The others didn't know what they were missing. How could anyone choose to spend the night at some famous restaurant or a traveling production of a play that was better on Broadway (practically in their own backyard!) when they could be here with him instead, watching a teenage magician who was already being billed as one of the best in the business?]

[That was fine. Kurt was having plenty of fun on his own. The magician more than lived up to the hype. And after a show that incredible, you can bet Kurt was going to jump at the chance to volunteer for her final trick of the evening. He probably didn't have much of a chance, given how...height challenged he was compared to the rest of the people clambering for attention around him. But what he lacked in height he made up for with enthusiasm! (And the judicious use of his seat as a step stool.)] Hier! Hier!

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"Oh, those're good, too!" Then, leaning in to whisper, she added, "But don't tell Mr. Eldoon I said that." His were way better, anyway. Much saltier, for starters.

Finally, she dragged him towards an old, wooden wagon that looked like it'd seen better days. A banner on the front proudly proclaimed ELDOON, while a flag off to the side pictured the stand's mascot: a crudely drawn face welcoming a mouthful of ramen... with a look of disgust.

But Trucy didn't pay attention to any of that. Relinquishing Kurt's arm, she bounded the remaining distance to the stand and made her presence known by dropping her arms heavily on the counter and demanding, "One curry udon, please! Extra spicy!"

Guy Eldoon, who'd had his back turned to the counter while he tended his food, whirled around sharply with a sour look on his face. His hat (which may or may not have resembled an upturned ramen bowl) swiveled as he did so, and his hair (which may or may not have been luscious locks of noodles) smacked him in the face. He brushed the strands aside, ready to give someone a piece of his mind, until his gaze fell upon the person on the other side of the counter. Immediately, his expression brightened. (Well, as much as it could, anyway.) He threw a dish towel over his shoulder and leaned on the counter to greet her.

"Trucy! It's been a while. How are ya?"

Kurt happily let her pull him further into the depths of the park, spurred on by visions of steaming, dancing ramen bowls right out of the anime he occasionally caught on TV after school.

The noodle cart did not feature dancing noodles. It featured sun-worn wooden walls and a sour-looking mascot who did not seem eager to partake of his own noodles. It also featured an equally sour-looking cook. Kurt's steps slowed as Trucy got the attention of the man at the cart; even his hidden tail reacted to the man's glare, squeezing Kurt's own leg tightly.

Apparently, he shouldn't have worried. The greeting the cook gave Trucy was more welcoming than he would have thought those harsh features were capable of. Immediately reassured, he picked up his pace again and approached the counter.

This already had all the hallmarks of a memorable meal. After all, everyone knew the best places to eat were the kind of hole-in-the-wall, no-frill joints that the locals swore by. A vendor didn't need a fancy cart and glossy, cutesy mascot if their food was the star of the show.

"Starving!" Trucy answered with a grin. "How about you, Mr. Eldoon? How's business?"

"Eh." A look of disgust rivaling that of the cart's mascot crossed his face. He glared pointedly at the surrounding food trucks and the groups of young teens clustered around them. "These hipster kids are bad for business. Them and their 'gourmet comfort'... Who needs a gourmet grilled cheese sandwich!? Just slap some cheese between a couple pieces of toast and call it a day! No need to complicate things."

"Aw..." Trucy's shoulders sank. She'd hoped the food truck crowd would draw more business for him in the long run. It was sad to think that one of her favorite vendors might not be doing well, but he quickly waved her concern away.

"Ahh... I'll survive. Unlike you, apparently. Lemme get you that curry before you really do starve." He turned away before she could say anything further, not that she could think of any words that might actually help...

But at least she could bring him more clientele!

Back still turned, Eldoon grabbed an empty bowl and asked, "So, who's your friend?"

It was disheartening to hear that someone Trucy obviously thought highly of was struggling. Kurt's gaze drifted to the cluster of teens around the food trucks. They were almost as foreign to him as his new friends had been when he first moved to the States. Maybe more so. Despite their individual quirks, his fellow X-Men were all fairly down-to-Earth. The crowd milling around over there sported what appeared to be $100 hair styles and designer clothes that probably cost more than a year's worth of his allowance. He couldn't help staring as he contemplated what a life like that must be like.

Still, the some of the vibrantly decorated food trucks were appealing... Especially the most popular ones, like Wasabi Taco and 'Za Nation. He could definitely see some of his friends eating at places like that. (And he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't join them. He just wouldn't have the heart to do it while Eldoon was around.)

He was lost in thought when the gruff voice broke through his reverie. He snapped back to attention with a bit of a panicked look, but recovered quickly. "He's Kurt, old-fashioned comfort food aficionado!" He beamed and waggled his fingers in a friendly wave. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Eldoon. Trucy told me you make the best curry and ramen in Los Angeles."

Eldoon stopped in the middle of scooping noodles in a bowl and turned a glare over his shoulder. He'd asked the lady a question. As Kurt went on, though, the older man's gaze softened just a little. He went back to scooping udon, ladling curry, and adding a spoonful of chili oil. When he returned with Trucy's order, he was giving Kurt his full attention.

"Did she, now? Well, I can only hope to live up to such a glowing review. What'll you have, Kurt?"

Trucy, meanwhile, was all but crying over her bowl of udon and how deliciously beautiful it looked. In fact, she may have shed a tear or two (but those could have been due to the amount of chili fumes rising from it). Catching the end of the conversation, she jumped to attention suddenly and looked at Kurt. "Oh, Kurt! Try the miso ramen! It's a classic!"

He didn't miss Mr. Eldoon's glare (how could he?). Obviously he'd overstepped somewhere, but he held on to his smile with determination, playing dumb. Apparently it was the right (or at least not the wrong) move, because his heartfelt greeting seemed to eventually win the older man over. When Eldoon finally released him from his gaze, Kurt breathed a sigh of relief.

The slightly sour welcome was forgotten altogether as soon as that piping hot bowl of noodles appeared in front of Trucy. Kurt stared in awe, unconsciously leaning in closer to catch a whiff of the tantalizing steam curling up from the bowl. The spicy fumes awakened his senses in the most delightful way. He was so lost in them he didn't realize how close he was getting until Trucy's gaze snapped back to him, and they found themselves only inches apart.

Laughing nervously, Kurt jumped back and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "That smells amazing! But I'd be a fool to ignore the recommendation of a local expert, ja?" He tore his eyes away from Trucy and faced Mr. Eldoon again. "I'll have the miso ramen, please!"

Eldoon raised a brow at their interaction but made no comment. Grabbing another bowl, he turned and went to work, his movements quick and practiced. "One miso, comin' up."

As for Trucy, she seemed oblivious to anything amiss and simply smiled. "We can share, if you want. That way we get the best of both worlds! You did make it extra spicy, right?" she called to Eldoon.

Although his back was to them, his head made a motion that was suspiciously reminiscent of an eye roll. "Of course, doll." He soon returned and placed a bowl of steaming miso ramen before Kurt, topped with mushrooms, bean sprouts, and leaks, a soft boiled egg cut in half, and two thin, juicy slices of pork belly. He slid them each a pair of plastic chopsticks. "Enjoy. That'll be $14.95."

"I think that's an excellent idea, madam!" Kurt replied to Trucy, putting on a terribly fake, posh British accent which clashed riotously with his own German accent.

'Tastebuds, commence flooding in T-minus three, two...' The bowl placed in front of him was right out of a fairy tale! Right out of a foodie magazine! Picture perfect and topped with every element he could have hoped for. His eyes were looking as watery as Trucy's when he gazed up at Mr. Eldoon for a hearty, "Danke schön!"

Then he turned back to Trucy with his hand already dipping into his pocket. "Here, let me treat. It's the least I can do after all you've done for me."

Trucy, whose hand was already dipping into her own purse, seemed to hesitate for a moment before conceding with a smile. "Okay!" 'Never turn down what's freely given.' That was the saying back when Daddy was disbarred. These days, though, she made more money than most people she knew; at some point, letting others pay for her had started to feel a little weird.

But, well, if they really wanted to...

Maybe she could get the next one.

While he waited for payment, Eldoon slid Trucy a small carton of milk along with some napkins and a wink. "Here. On the house."

She grinned as she placed their haul on a tray. "Thanks, Mr. Eldoon! You're the best."

Fortunately, Trucy allowed him to pay. Not that he would have objected too strongly if she had declined his offer. It just made him feel better to pay her back a little, even if it was a small gesture compared to the acceptance she had already shown him.

He paid for their food with what he hoped was a generous enough tip and was about to ask if she would like him to carry the tray for her, when his eyes happened to fall on the chopsticks she had just placed there. Mild but uncomfortable dread quickly pooled in his stomach. "O-oh. Um... Mr. Eldoon, do you happen to have any spoons and forks?" He plastered on a bashful grin. "I've never had the chance to use chopsticks before. I'd probably make a mess, and the last thing I want is to waste any of your delicious soup."

He flashed Trucy a significant look and moved to rub the back of his head again, putting on display his five fingers held perpetually in their unique, tri-parted position.

Tray in hand, Trucy had started to make her way towards the picnic tables when she realized Kurt wasn't following. She turned to see Mr. Eldoon eyeing him with disapproval as he reached beneath the counter and shoved a packet of plasticware in his direction.

Seeing the dilemma, Trucy moved in for damage control. "Don't worry, Mr. Eldoon. I'll teach him how to use the chopsticks!"

"Hm." It came out as a grunt. After holding Kurt's gaze for longer than was probably comfortable for the teen, he finally relented and turned to Trucy. "See that you do." And then added, "Say hi to your dad for me. And tell that cheapskate he still owes me for the bowl his assistant stole!"

"I will! C'mon, Kurt."

The man's gruff complaints faded into the background as they walked away. "How'm I supposed to sell bowls of ramen without any bowls..."

The glare Kurt received for his audacity made him quail. His bashful smile became more of a rictus grin as he stood there in front of the older man, trapped by his overwhelming aura of righteous disapproval, until Trucy once again came to his rescue.

"W-would you? I'd love to learn..." he muttered in response to her offer, praying the intent would be enough to absolve him of his obviously grievous sin. As soon as he was summoned, he snatched up the packet of utensils, tossed out a hurried "Danke," and took off after her.

As soon as they were out of earshot, he cried, "Okay, he definitely hates me now. Way to make a good first impression, self." Heaving a deep sigh, he lowered his gaze, first to his feet then to his hands, which he held out in front of him. "Sorry. I really haven't had a chance to try before, and I would like to learn. I'm just...not sure it's possible."

"Don't be silly!" She bumped her shoulder against his arm. "If he hated you, he wouldn't have talked to you at all." She then looked down at his hands, frowning thoughtfully. "You can use a pencil, right?"

"That's reassuring." The comfortable gesture made him smile, though the expression was a little wan.

"Ja, I can. But those are considerably harder to use than a pencil. Aren't they?"

"Not really. It just takes practice!" She slid onto a bench and set the tray on the table top. As soon as the items were divvied up, she began folding one of the napkins into a tiny rectangle. "You'll see. I'll make you a pro in no time!"

Kurt sat down across from her and waited (im)patiently for her to finish organizing their meals. Their oh-so-tempting, steaming hot meals...

"Couldn't hurt to try, huh? All right. I'm game." He rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Lay some knowledge on me, sensei."

"Well, first," she slipped the folded napkin between two of the chopsticks, produced a rubber band from her purse, and swiftly used it to secure the napkin in place, before holding the contraption out to him, "you're gonna need some learner sticks!"

"Whoa..." He took the now high-tech chopsticks in one hand and gave the open tips a few experimental squeezes with his other hand, watching how they pivoted on the fulcrum created by the bit of napkin and the rubber band's tension. "Neat! Now what?"

"Now you use them, silly! Like this." She demonstrated properly with the other pair, closing and opening them a few times, before plucking a couple noodles from her curry. "Those'll help you get used to the feeling. Then you can try the real things!" Unable to wait another second, she shoveled the udon into her mouth, savoring it with a satisfied hum.

"Simple as that, huh?" he said, chuckling awkwardly. The prospect of moving on to the real thing had him more intimidated than he'd like to admit, but he wasn't about to quit. Not after Trucy had vouched for him!

As she dug in to her soup with audible relish, he started adjusting the sticks in his dominant hand, looking for the most comfortable and functional position. It took some trial and error, but eventually he settled on resting one stick on his second finger and steadying the other stick with his first finger and thumb. With the outer stick firmly in place, he could squeeze the inner one with his first finger and press it down on the stable stick. He tried it in the air a few times, his movements picking up speed as he gained confidence.

"Mm!" Trucy cried around a mouthful of noodles. As she swallowed, the spice caught up to her, and she spluttered and coughed between words. "Th-there," she said. Her eyes began tearing. "You've got it! Now try picking something up."

Instead of following her suggestion, Kurt stared at her for a long beat. "Uh, are you okay?"

She nodded emphatically, already shoveling another bite into her mouth, and gestured for him to try!

"...Okay." She didn't look okay, but if she said she had everything under control, who was he to argue?

He turned his attention back to the chopsticks in his hand. After taking a moment to readjust them (he'd let his fingers go a bit slack while he was distracted), he scanned the table for a target. Settling on another napkin, he carefully positioned the tips of his chopsticks on either side of the paper and slowly squeezed them together. The tip of his tongue stuck out to the side as he focused intently on his fingers.

"Sometimes it's easier to pick up bigger things," she offered after swallowing. Her voice was raw, her nose stuffy. She sniffled and wiped at a tear that trickled down her cheek. "Try a mushroom!"

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