Welcome to Gaia! ::

Other than that monstrosity of a freedom sandwich that Dustin had made on his first day, the kitchen at the HQ hadn't seen much use since he had moved in. In general, if it wasn't something that could be fixed up in the microwave or slapped together in less than a minute, it was more complicated than the child knew how to make. Which was very unfortunate, given that Dusty was the sort that liked savory meals... which eliminated most recipes of three ingredients or less.

Eating barely seemed worth the effort anymore, truth to tell. One more slice of toast, and Dusty was going to be sick.

So when he, as he trudged toward the kitchen in glum preparation for another poor excuse for a "meal", caught the sounds of cooking - something bubbling, something chopping, and then the scent of something sweet already cooking - Dusty's mouth flooded in an instant. Who could be cooking, he wondered? Not Guelherme's b***h of a Guardian, he was certain. It had to be a visitor, maybe one of the older, motherly Fa'e. It couldn't be very difficult, he hoped, to look properly pitiful and get a decent bite to eat....

A black-furred face popped into sight around the kitchen doorframe, peeking in to see the source of the commotion. Not a Fa'e at all, he was surprised to notice - someone's Guardian, then? It didn't change the plan either way, though. "'Ello?" Dustin called out, stepping out around the corner.

Dusty's ears answered before he did - the tips pricked up, just as high as they could go, at the prospect of a free meal. "Well, I mean, if you don't mind...."

He was inside the kitchen in an instant, admiring the bubbling pots with shameless delight. It was only as an afterthought that he grinned over at the friendly chef. "M'name's Dusty, by the way. Who're you?"

Van Helsing....

Dropping obediently into a chair, the corner of Dusty's mouth twitched downwards as he thought over the surname. It was familiar. Why? Seemed like there was someone with a name like that who'd been in the news a few years back, who he'd taken a severe disliking to. Maybe not exactly the same name, though. It'd been Von.... Von Helson...?

Oh, it hardly mattered, anyway. Clearly, Elsbeth had nothing to do with those associations. It occurred to him to ask Elsbeth more about who she was and what brought her to the HQ, but he decided such investigation could wait until after he had food in front of him.

And now she was asking him some question, and all he could do was exuberantly answer, "Anything!" The way he'd been eating recently, she could burn it and dump it on the floor, and Dusty would still be hard-pressed not to scarf it down. Shards, he never got this treatment at his house - once breakfast was out of the way, he was on his own. For the first time since coming to the HQ, Dusty dared to feel a little bit at home!

The thought made him giddy, and restless. Perhaps feeling like he should be making himself useful, Dusty glanced over at the table. Noting its barrenness, the deerkitten rose again and stirred himself into action, fetching plates and silverware and dishes. "How many people should I set for?" he wondered aloud. If Elsbeth had been cooking all this food before he got there, after all, she must be expecting someone else, right?

Dusty's ear flicked a moment at the mistaken number, noting it, but letting it pass on. Just a harmless mistake, no doubt. Nothing worth prying into. Prying was his Guardian's job, after all!

"Me? I'm uh." Older than I look, had become his default response around strangers - if only because on Gaia, it was so easy to claim hundreds of years of age and be taken seriously, no matter your physical appearance. But when someone was being matronly and you wanted them to be that way, trying to one-up them chronologically probably didn't help your case, did it? So, he answered honestly. "Three. And a half, I guess." Laying out the plates, Dustin shrugged. It wasn't the years that mattered, it was how you lived them!

Dusty's nose crinkled. "Children of who now?" Technically, yes, he knew who Airi was. He knew she was important to the Fa'e. But he didn't really care for her, and she certainly wasn't his mother. Fetching out the silverware and scrounging up some napkins, he shook his head. "No, no. My dad's name is Yanisin, and my mother's not Airi."

He laid out the last of the settings right as Elsbeth laid out the food. The smell was richer than ever now, and he could barely stand it. "Yeah, great!" he cheered, dropping into his chair and digging voraciously into his meal. It was every bit as good, he found, as it looked - or else, he was hungry enough that anything would taste so good!

It was with half a mouthful and spots of alfredo decorating his lips that he answered her question. "Naw, mah Guardian teaches me." He paused, swallowed, and considered whether to amend that phrase. Arrien wasn't teaching him now, after all, not since Dusty'd come to live at the HQ... but that seemed like delving into too much information. "Some've my friends go to the schools, though. They whine about their homework all the time."

"It's prob'ly Native American," Dusty informed her, then slurped another noodle down. Licking his lips thoughtfully, he clarified for her - "He's a deer, y'know," as though that should somehow cover the logic gap between his father's name and identity. Even if it didn't, though, that seemed to be as much as Dusty wanted to speak on the matter. He wiped his mouth off on his napkin (at least he was that well-mannered) and turned his attention back to his plate.

His Guardian was an even touchier subject. "She's back home, I guess," Dusty grunted. His tone implied he couldn't care less if he tried. A bit more calculating now, Dusty glanced up at Elsbeth and asked - "Where's your Fa'e?"

May be? It was only the fact that Elsbeth had fixed him a really really good meal (like, really good, as in, could Dusty just sort of keep her and eat like this all the time?) that kept the deerkitten polite. His brows arched, sure, but he made no gesture more biting than that.

Of course, he was a lot more forgiving once the obvious became clear to him. "Oh. You're not from Gaia, right?" Dusty speculated casually. Biting a piece of broccoli off his fork (let no one say he skimped on his vegetables), Dusty set an elbow next to his plate and leaned forward. "Well, if she's with Airi and stuff, she's gotta be Fa'e for sure. Airi's nobody's mother, but she did make the Fa'e, y'know." He speared a large hunk of chicken then. "She's kinda weird, though. I've only ever seen her once. Where's this glade you're talking about, anyway?"