{SF} Frying

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Elsa leaned against the side of the food truck, reaching up with one arm and wiping the sweat off her brow. she leaned her head further back and stared up at the clear sky. It had been her idea, both getting the festival together again and making sure that everyone on the council at least volunteered. And here she was, volunteering to run the school's food truck. That had struck her as being a good idea at the time, at least different. Now she had grease smell in her hair and felt like there was a layer of filth on her hands and she was seriously reconsidering it.

She was also starting to consider smoking or something. Instead she reached into her pocket and popped out her medication. She popped it up, stared down at it, wrinkled her nose, and then tipped it over, getting a few more pills into it and taking them dry. She leaned her head back, swallowed, and closed her eyes.

Elsa could hear someone approaching and she sighed, turning her head slightly to speak to them: "The fryer's going to take a bit to heat up. If you want to wait, I can get you whatever you want." Since they were literally frying everything. Hence why the truck read: "We Fry Everything!"

Because sometimes imagination was overrated.

[François Laffont]

Since it had been not that long ago that Franck brought the twins to the fairground, Franck already had a good idea of what he’d find in terms of rides and games. He could take the rides, even the really fast ones. What Franck had trouble dealing with was jump scares, horror and gore, not the adrenaline rush you got when going at high speed and upside down on a ride for a few seconds. But they were not all that interesting to him. It was why he didn’t need much convincing to help out install the other booths in place just for the summer festival.

Franck mostly helped setting things up. As a reward, at least he supposed it was his reward, he had no booth to take care of. But he often moved between them, in case they needed anything, from change to more supply to a bottle of water before they died of dehydration under the warm sun. He even had some sun cream with him for those who forgot to put on any. It didn't seem as important compared to stay by a booth and all but he had been running around a lot already and if he put back his shirt, he was seriously considering losing it again.

He was reaching Elsa’s booth, some sort of food truck with the words “We Fry Everything” on it. He arrived as she swallowed something. He had no idea what it was though and she already turned the attention from it by going through the little speech she probably said a hundred times already. “It’s just me,” he told her once she could finally see for herself that, indeed, it was just him. Since there was no one else waiting to get served fried everything, he chose to stick around a little. “I just came to see if you needed anything,” he explained. He frowned as he looked at her. She had all of his sympathy for being stuck there. “I think you’ll deserve a long shower after this. If only to get the grease off your hair.”

[Elsa Bellefonte]

The slight French accent brought a smile to Elsa's face even before her brain started processing the words that it conveyed. "Just him," she nearly laughed at that, but certainly did open an eye and roll her head slightly to look over at him. Yep, there stood Franck Laffont, with decidedly less grease in his hair than Elsa had in hers.

"A power that repels grease would be a good start," Elsa drawled. She arched a brow for a moment. "I suppose an extra hand wouldn't hurt either. The booth works best when manned by two people, but we couldn't find anyone willing to work during this particular time slot. That was before I signed up for it, I should mention."

Because she'd held out to fill in wherever she was needed. She truly had not expected to be needed at a greasy fry truck, but, well, she'd already committed herself. There was certainly no backing out of it now. "I think we even have a hair net that will fit you," she continued, looking over the other shoulder and into the truck. She already knew there was at least two in there, one of which got to go back onto her own hair. That was yet another thing Elsa was definitely not looking forward to about this whole experience.

[François Laffont]

It actually pleased Franck to sense how amused and light-hearted she was when he explained he was the one here. Elsa always struck him as a cerebral person more than a woman of heart, like her sister Erika. Sure, he was the best placed to know she too had emotions, and many of them, some as complex as the young woman who felt them. The fact still remained that he was never really sure how she felt about him exactly. Maybe because she was not one to call people friends. He considered her as his friend and what he perceived from her made him believe she thought the same but it was never really certain with her. Either way, it always felt good when someone was happy to see you. Or even just hear you.

He laughed at her comment. “I’m afraid I have nothing against grease in my attire,” he let out, pointing at the large belt with different things attached to it. Without looking anything as impressive as some Batman belt, or even a more regular constructor one, he had a few things around his hips. He pointed at one of the pouches there holding the different objects he had on him. “I mean, I do have sun cream but I’d say it will add to the greasy feeling and not wash it off.” She couldn’t really ask him to do anything about the grease though, right?

She asked if he wanted to help. At least, he believed she asked. With Elsa, there was always something in her tone that made it sound like she ordered. She had forgotten she was not the one in charge anymore it seemed. “No one else volunteered to help?” He was surprised but at the same time not really. They probably preferred to eat the food, not cook it. Elsa was already looking around for a hair net. Seemed like she ordered more than asked. “I guess I can give a hand, especially since people might just come flooding you soon,” he figured, taking a look at the time. People would eat eventually, no? “But I might be needed elsewhere at some point so don’t be angry at me if I have to dash off.” He worked his way into the food truck. He put on the hair net without caring too much how ridiculous that looked on him. “Now, how does that work?”

[Elsa Bellefonte]

"Damn, and here I thought homosexuals were supposed to be prepare for those sort of things. You're disappointing me, Laffont," Elsa replied dryly. she noticed his gesturing toward his belt. Some part of her wanted to make a comment about Batman or something along those lines, but Elsa never really paid much attention to superheroes and was almost certain she'd get some aspect of that wrong. She was wondering why he had sun cream, but she supposed it made sense. Not everyone was lucky enough to have an African tan on their skin after all.

"They volunteered," Elsa offered, nodding slightly, "just not here. I did make it clear that pretty well everyone on the council should do so at some point in time, and I put some effort into organizing various volunteer shifts," because it felt like something that needed doing. Elsa did want to actually get involved in some of that school stuff: it helped to have at least a little power and authority, or at least to use those organizational skills that she'd spent all those years building.

Franck was already coming up, not that Elsa expected otherwise. She felt a little relief start to wash into her and she let it ride for a bit, figuring that Franck could pick up on that without her having to say anything. "It's fairly simple," she said, turning back into the truck and sliding inside, "you turn on the fryers," she pointed to where a set of them were, "and you take whatever they want fried," to a hodge-podge of available substances, and then at a list of banned substances, "batter it in the mixtures," she pointed to the containers clearly labeled 1, 2, and 3, "drop it into the oil," another point, "and try to figure it out," she nodded and looked around. "So it's likely best if one of us takes the orders and organizes things and another fries..." she looked over at him, eyebrow raised. she figured it was fairly apparent which she'd rather do.

[François Laffont]

Coming from someone else, this could be referred to as an insult. Her dry tone could also make it believe it was. Franck tilted his head at her words but he perceived nothing that looked like disappointment or anything remotely close to that, at least none that could be associated with him and what he said. Because of that, he shrugged and let it go. It was a good thing she made no batman reference as Franck knew little about superheroes. In his youth, if he ever read comic books, they were more about Spirou or Asterix, two characters more known to the French people than the rest of the world. Asterix beat any superheroes in his mind. He liked it a lot more than any Batman, Superman or even combination of every superheroes into one group they ever made. He still knew Batman had some sort of belt with tons of gadget since he had no real superpowers. And he made that association too when he had been given this belt.

Franck nodded. He knew they volunteered and since even he didn’t for this job, he got why they did not sign up for this. Taking care of the cotton candy machine was evidently more interesting than this. And a lot less hot and greasy no doubt. In the bad kind of hot and greasy. “They assigned me to running errands between the different booths. And getting the money. They don’t want to keep too much cash in the booths,” he said. In a way, he preferred that job to managing a food truck. His accent probably did not make him the best to stay in a booth like this. Plus they had to know he would not slack off, right? “Does that mean I have you to thank for this job?”

As he told her, unless they called him to help them, he figured he could help out. People would soon gather around to get something to eat. He didn't know how long he’ll help but that would still be a moment where she won’t be running around like crazy trying to serve everyone. She explained the different steps, nodding slowly as he followed her directions. He understood by her tone she wished he was the one doing the whole frying thing. He was not surprised, as she was more the intellectual than manual type. His only concern was that one of them upset her. She might not lose her cool in front of them but he’ll feel it and in the cramped place, it will be hard on him. “I better learn how to fry fast then,” he said, telling her this way he was ready to play it as she wanted it.

He pulled out his belt. “You have a place to store it. Just... I have a walkie-talkie so we can keep it out in case I’m called but the rest can be stored in the meantime,” he asked her. He went to a fryer and turned around, trying to memorize where everything was and find the most productive way to work his way through this. “I realise I didn’t ask you how was your trip. Did you enjoy it? I hope it was not supposed to remain a secret.” If it was, could she really be surprised he found it out? Any person she might have told them about it likely told him as well.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

It did make sense to assign Franck to be something of a liaison. Elsa nodded at that, wholly agreeing with the decision. not that it was particularly surprising. She also grinned as Franck asked if he had her to blame. No words or other indication one way or the other: just that grin.

Besides, they had the fryer to get ready and the truck to get operational. Elsa had already set most of the fryers to bubbling, and she tossed a few bits of dough in to test, watching as they bubbled among the hot liquid. Her eyes flicked to Franck at his comment regarding the fryer and she smiled slightly. "Quicker would be better," she agreed, before turning back to the register.

Elsa worked on getting that around while Franck finished getting ready. Again she resorted to just nodding as he mentioned the walkie-talkie, getting the thing out and getting it settled. The question had her chuckling dryly. "I got a tapeworm, and Felix and I are separated at best," she supplied as she pulled out a stack of ones and began thumbing through them. "But we did finish digging a well and getting things together for an entire village, so I'm fairly certain the trip still lands in the plus column."

[François Laffont]

Her grin was cryptic, not telling him she was the one who suggested he was assigned to that or not. He did tell them he could do pretty much anything they wanted. He helped set things up, didn’t he? Perhaps it was why they spared him being stuck in a food truck all day. Although one could argue that spending the whole day under the warm sun running around might not exactly be the coolest job either. But Franck was fine with it. And unlike Elsa, he had more time on his hands to look at the different activities. It was a plus.

Franck was surprised how fast it could actually fry. Of course, the oil was boiling hot, so it made sense. Still, it might have been a good idea to have a list of food they offered and how long to keep them in there. Or have someone who knew better. The students will have to be comprehensive. They better because Franck didn't want to see Elsa angry. That would risk making him angry too and he knew how bitchy he was when that happened, no matter how people claimed he was never angry and all that. He could be. He just regretted the second it happened.

Since it was Elsa, he was not expecting some very detailed story on the beauty of Africa and all the wildlife she might have encountered. He startled though at how easily she told him her misadventures. Tapeworm, Felix... he was not quite sure what he should pick up on first. “I’m sorry,” was, in the end, all he could say once he turned to look at her. Felix brought something out of her. Something she didn’t think was there. Franck was certain he helped her get over the hard time she had gone through when he returned. He really was sorry for her if things didn’t work out. By the way she changed the subject back to what she went to Africa for, he understood it was something she didn’t want to talk about. “I’m sure they were very grateful,” he said. He wished he could say something. She probably could tell. She didn’t need to read his mind to figure that out, only knowing Franck was enough to get he’d want to do something for her. “So, in the end, you liked it? You came out of this... how do you say... grown?” That didn't sound right. Sometimes, he wished he knew English better.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Elsa licked her fingers and brushed through bills quickly, flicking one after the other. Her mind could keep tabs on that and on Franck's conversation at the same time. His mind had become one of those that she had more experience with than others, thus making it a familiar enough text to follow. It was like reading several of an author's works: you began to understand the plots and the way they constructed things, after all.

"I have," Elsa replied, tapping the bills on the counter and sliding them into the provided register. "It was important to realize that there's something out there besides this school. We're all caught up in," she gestured around them, "all this that sometimes we forget that there's a world out there. I also managed to help someone," she glanced over at Franck, "truly help them, without costing anyone their lives. I managed to save lives, and that's something that can't be taken from me."

she reached in and started moving through a few more bills, shuffling through them. She nodded toward a back wall. "There's an apron back there if you need the extra protection. You'll want to quickly familiarize yourself with everything," she paused and gestured, "nothing's that complicated though. It's not precisely rocket science, after all."

[François Laffont]

Franck turned to look what Elsa was doing. “If you need change, I’ve got some in the belt somewhere,” he said, pointing at where she put it for now. He was supposed to give some to people in the different booths should they run out of it. He couldn’t believe he was the only one doing that though so it was why he was not feeling too bad to abandon what task they gave him to help Elsa. They did ask for him to help whoever needed it around here, he figured that might as well imply this. If not... he’d like to see them tell Elsa she shouldn’t have let this happen.

Franck was pretty sure she was going through his mind. It was not the first time she did. He never really minded, so long as he was not thinking anything he’d rather she knew nothing about, which didn’t happen a whole lot. He thought it was only in her nature. And he didn't think she was the kind to try and dig up your deepest secrets or anything like that. At least, not his. He refused to believe Elsa Bellefonte could do that to him.

He understood what she meant, both about forgetting about the rest of the world and the need to help out. He frowned though as she mentioned this cost no one’s life this time. “You know that no one holds it against you, right? You couldn’t know for the fire. And I expect SPECTRE would have hurt a lot more of us if you didn’t discover it and worked up a plan,” he told her. But of course she knew. That was not going to ease off the guilt and pain. So Franck tried not to think about that. “That is great though. Will you punch me if I say I was surprised you wanted to do humanitarian work? Happily, of course,” he asked, a smile on his face because he didn't think she would.

He grabbed the apron as she mentioned it. Might be a good idea to put it on. He was no great chef and did even less fried food in his life, he could use the extra protection, as she said. “They’re the ones who better be comprehensive,” he said, pointing the tongs towards the crowd of students here for the festival. “They could have asked some of the kitchen staff to do it, that would have made more sense, no?” But they were probably working. Oh well. Franck didn't want to complain. Elsa will be stuck here longer than he will, it seemed unfair to whine then.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

No one held it against her? That wasn't right, strictly speaking, and they both knew better. Even if no one else held it against her, Elsa most certainly held the whole affair very much against herself. She'd failed on some level there, failed in a manner that had resulted in deaths. Had they gotten fewer fatalities than they might have otherwise? Perhaps. Was that enough?

"I should punch you," Elsa mused, forcing herself to sound amused. She gave him a look and raised a hand, finger pointed toward him. "I've been pushing for various humanitarian work for some time now. It was my idea to donate much of the earnings here to various charities. I didn't go quite so far as to volunteer myself up for that auction," she had to look at Franck with a smile there: he hadn't a choice. Part of being prom court meant that you ended up in the auction, simple as that.

For now, Elsa worked on the task at hand. She gathered up a few more things, moving objects around, readying the register, finishing the counting with a nod. "Everything's done on a volunteer basis," Elsa reminded him, "besides, weren't you just talking about humanitarian work?" she looked over to him with a smirk and raised brows: challenge delivered.

[François Laffont]

Elsa had been put in an impossible position before. There was no way to tell whether some deaths could have been avoided otherwise. SPECTRE would still have hit the school had she not known for them and tried to get her sister and the others out. As for that woman in charge of the Indian school, was it possible she wouldn’t have tried to do all that she did had Elsa and Erika not been in charge? It was impossible to know for sure and Franck believed that in both situations she reacted as quickly as she could and did the best she could. It was hard, because Elsa was not as heartless as some believed at first, mostly thanks to what the Dirty Laundry wrote about her. She felt responsible. He still believed she paid enough for this and she shouldn’t keep holding it against her.

He chuckled a little as she ‘threatened’ to punch him. “Hey, I’m not saying you can’t be generous. I totally see you organizing charity events. Organizing them, not taking part in them like this,” he admitted. Especially in here. He pictured her setting in place everything to build a school, orphanage, hospital, well or whatever in Africa or any other region of the world in need of such humanitarian help. He could even picture her going to Africa to make sure it was done as she had planned it to. He was only a little more surprised she worked on it. Now that he thought about it though, he realised he maybe shouldn’t have been that surprised. She was likely the kind to believe that if you wanted something done right, you better do it yourself. She didn’t build a well on her own, sure, but it fit that logic. Kind of.

He had a little smile when she mentioned the auction. They both knew he didn't really have a choice. Neither did he the last time he had been put up for it. Although, unlike her, he might have volunteered. “I think I’ll let girls bid too. I know everyone or so is aware I’m gay but I’m also in couple, so it’s not like it would be a romantic date. Plus maybe Jasper won’t be as mad if he loses to a girl.” he hoped so, at the very least. After all, it was not like anything would happen should a girl win the auction. And he could still promise a little something to Jasper for being a good sport. That might ease things with him. He knew Jasper could be possessive.

He laughed as she used his words against him. “Alright, fair enough. They’ll have to deal with it if it isn’t as good as they hoped for though. But how hard can that be?” he said, only to point a finger behind Elsa’s shoulder to signify that someone arrived, certainly to buy something, expecting Franck to fry it. Ok, whether he wanted to accept the challenge or not, it was too late to back down. Let’s hope it really was as simple as it looked.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Organizing, but not taking part? Elsa had to let out another chuckle at that, shaking her head slightly. "That's poor leadership, and I'd like to think I'm better than that..." she trailed off at that, seeming to realize that she was literally saying something was good for leading mere moments after claiming that she wasn't a very strong leader. She doubted that Franck would pick up on it... yet at the same time she wouldn't have been surprised to find out that this was precisely what he wanted.

The auction would distract them from that particular line of discussion, however. "Oh?" was what Elsa managed. She finished loading the till and decided to see if Franck needed any last bit of help. "Is that a subtle hint that I should come and bail you out at the end, should it prove necessary?" Because Elsa didn't particularly see a date with Franck as all that onerous. They'd associated with one another before, technically were doing it now.

The finger point had Elsa turning, and she realized that they at least had a customer. Sure enough, someone wanted to buy a fried food. At least this one didn't appear that difficult: "Oreo," Elsa said, turning to Franck and handing over the package, "I'm fairly certain the batter is there," she nodded and then smiled at him, waiting a moment to see if he wanted any help or not.

[François Laffont]

Yes, Franck noticed how she was suddenly able to claim she was a good leader. He smiled at that but said nothing. She might just argue against it otherwise. He thought she was a good leader. Maybe she was sometimes a little too pragmatic but she could easily argue that he was often too sentimental. It was always the big question, right? Heart or brain? Although, if she went to Africa to help build a well, she just proved she knew very well how to listen to her heart as well as her brain. He still believed the brain would win first though.

He laughed at her suggestion. “If a friend of mine bids higher than my boyfriend and doesn’t give the date to him, I’ll seriously wonder after that friend,” he admitted. Who did that, other than someone who didn’t think Jasper was good enough for him? Granted, he had a few friends who seemed to believe that. He knew it was subtle, since they didn’t want to hurt him. But a guy like Jasper... and an open relationship so he could sleep with whatever girl he wanted... Franck was past that though. He refused to let himself fall for the romanticism he usually fell for but he liked to believe Jasper was not seeing anywhere. That was not the matter at hand though and he forced his thoughts back to the auction. “You’re in charge? You can try to help others, I’m sure I’ll be good on my own. At least this time Frank won’t be the one selling us. I might not have to fight to keep my shirt on,” he said with a light chuckle in his voice. He loved his friend but she really didn’t understand how Franck was if she thought he enjoyed walking around half-naked with oil on his chest.

When she told him what he had to fry for their first try, Franck couldn’t help wondering who on earth fried Oreos. He tried as best as he could, following the steps she told him a few moments ago. He was not sure how long they were supposed to stay in the burning oil but he thought he did it right after a moment, judging by their golden brown color, and so he handed it over. His face however probably showed how uncertain he was. He did look not so bad but he was still wondering about the whole thing. “You think that taste good? Fried Oreo?” He knew there were different ways to eat one, but he had never tried that way.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

"Depends on if a friend's more interested than you'd think," Elsa offered, continuing her conversational tone. It wasn't as though she had any interest in Franck in that way, even were he not gay. The man was a good friend, and as far as Elsa was concerned, that was enough. Besides, everyone knew that if Franck was ever going to tease going straight it would be with a certain bubbly blonde that everyone either loved or loved to hate.

Who also happened to come up in the next bit of conversation. Elsa nodded as Franck asked. "Yes, precisely because of stunts like that. Frank's a bit energetic, and that can help from time to time, but sometimes we need a little more order," Elsa smiled slightly at that. Last time had gone well enough, but it had also traumatized people. "We're also going to try to go through with this with the minimal amount of scarring."

Then the Oreo came out, Elsa helped Franck get through with it, also more or less guessing. it got handed over to the customer, who then wandered off, once more leaving Elsa and Franck alone. "I wouldn't know," Elsa admitted, looking around. "I haven't exactly been a connoisseur of fried delicacies," she looked over at Franck, brow raised, question apparent. She could already see someone else approaching, so at least they wouldn't have too much "downtime."