Gemma was notably busy. With his return, the reigniting of their engagement, and the wedding preparations, she was needing more and more help. Jorge, of course, did as much as he could to prepare for the wedding, choosing linens and picking out the best music he could think of. However, it wasn’t all wedding things that Jorge wanted to help with; he also allowed himself to be recruited for a number of other tasks that Gemma had fallen behind on. One such instance involved the birthday of one Nona Placencia-Charter.

Nona was a lovely woman. She handled most of the admission records, keeping everything in order and nice an legal for the city school board so that the Mansion could continue to teach its students. She was an invaluable resource and friend to Gemma, especially when he had disappeared into the waves. Gemma always made it a point to do something nice for the woman, especially around her birthday. However, this year, it seemed that Gemma got a little behind in handle some issues. That was when Jorge decided to volunteer.

Now, Jorge didn’t know Nona well. Her mutation was, well, a little difficult. Nona, unfortunately, possessed the gift of blending into the background. You could be talking to her face one minute and the second you looked away or lost your focus, she just…faded. It was almost like she was a background character in a movie or a story, one of those nameless individuals you gloss over and never think twice about. Needless to say, it made Nona’s life a challenge but she never seemed too broken up about it.

Considering the niceties that Nona did for Gemma while he was away, he was actually looking forward to doing this for her. If anyone deserved to have a nice cake made for them on their impending birthday, it was her. So, with assurances to his bride to be that the task would be handled, Jorge made time in his own busy schedule to get to work on an amazing cake.

The day itself was proving to be rather relaxing. Jorge awoke to the sounds of birds singing outside of his window. A glance to his side of the bed had shown that Gemma had already removed herself to get an early start on the day. Without the distraction she could easily turn out to be (ahem) Jorge got busy getting himself ready for the day.

A shower, a change into fresh clothing, and Jorge was already in the kitchen, gathering his ingredients. Dressed in a relaxing pair of jeans and his Kansas (the band) t-shirt, Jorge busied himself with milling about the kitchen. His short, dark hair was combed back, and his salt-and-pepper beard trimmed neatly. An apple in his hand, Jorge munched on it totally as he gathered a few bowls and measuring cups. He had plans to make a nice cherry chocolate cake, a confectionary delight that he had crafted before. If anything said “Happy Birthday”, it was that.

So, his back turned to the center island, laid out with unsweetened baking chocolate, cherries, and other ingredients, Jorge took another thoughtful bite of his apple as he began to measure out some flour. He had a feeling that this would be his best cake yet.

Summer classes were in full swing and that meant the Mansion was quiet for someone who did not attend classes. Kalos was experimenting with the soft pillows strewn about in the living area next to the kitchen. She hated to be too far from the food. She also hated that she'd accidentally exploded a pillow when she threw it at the technology the other day. If pillow explosions were to happen, she wanted it to be intentional, not accidental.

She pressed her textured fingers into the cloth and marveled at how it gripped into the whitish coral caps. The girl could almost pick one up without gripping it. Almost. She hit another pillow and it did not break. She hit it harder and still nothing. Perhaps the pillow that had broken was old.

Kalos scraped her finger down the fabric and it made a hair-tingling horrible noise. Oh no. Not that. She would save that as an attack for a bad person. Kalos wiggled to get some of the terrible sound's effects out of her system, but now that she was paying attention to sounds, she heard someone stirring in the kitchen. Maybe it was the hero Ghost making lunch! Kalos popped up to her feet to see, but...

It was the one they called Jorge. He was a hero, technically, but only because he'd helped Gawain and Becca. He was old for a demigod, but not DocProf old. There was something about him that reminded her of Atlan and gave her the wiggles in ways similar to her finger scraping down soft fabric.

But... what was he doing? Perhaps more importantly, what was he doing in the kitchen?

She'd learned to be sneaky in the school of hard knocks so Kalos was quiet as she approached the man in order to spy. He seemed to be laying things out on the tops of the cabinets. Sweet things.

The coral girl jumped as the noise of the hero Jorge crunching into a fruit sounded loud and sudden.

Oh. If he was eating then these things were for eating.

As soon as he turned away, a little pink hand grabbed one of the flat things wrapped in paper and very thin metal. She had learned that this was a thing called chocolate and that all females were obliged to like it. She had liked the last piece that her hero Gawain had given her so she unwrapped it and took a very large bite.

It tasted like chocolate... a little... but mostly it was just gross.

"Yew chodwlet is bad!" It was a big bite and she didn't want to swallow it, but she could not reach the sink. Kalos flapped her hands in panic.

Jorge actually did love the smell of flour. Not because flour itself was all that amazing a scent to smell (it wasn’t as if there were a lot of flour-themed perfumes out in the world), but rather because it heralded the scent of things to come. Cookies, cakes, pies, and a million other confectionary delights were all crafted with flour. That alone was enough to put a smile on the man’s face, as he knew that in a short while, there would be an amazing cake for which this flour would take part in the creation of. And who knows, maybe with some of the left over flour batter (if there was any) he could create a couple of small snacks. He did get to over measure from time to time. But like his mother said, always better to have too much rather than too little.

Another bite of his apple and Jorge held it between his teeth as he reached over for the baking soda and the salt to mix together his dry ingredients first. Snatching up both prizes, he set them aside, put his apple down, and chewed as he grabbed his measuring spoons. So distracted was he that he didn’t neve notice the small, pink-skinned mutant who had snuck her way into the kitchen and grabbed at chocolate that should never be eaten straight from the packaging.

Nor did he hear the bite that followed.

Oh, but he heard her reaction quite easily…

>> "Yew chodwlet is bad!"

Slightly startled, Jorge turned to eye the young creature as she flailed bout the kitchen, trying to sputter out something from her mouth. Looking down, he immediately spied the little bit of torn foil and the remains of a baker’s chocolate square that had a rather large chunk removed from it. It only took a few seconds for Jorge to realize what had happened so he grabbed a wad of paper towels and moved over to the young mutant, kneeling beside her. He offered her the towels.

”Here, sweetie,” he said, more concerned than amused at the moment (slightly anyways). ”Spit it out in this.”

He leaned back, watching the young girl. He remembered her, easily. She was from Atlantis, a Gorgon, Kalos, if he remembered correctly. The first time he saw the young mutant was when he had entered the X-Jet after Atlan’s defeat. She was quiet and still as Jorge placed the unconscious Elke into one of the seats and strapped her in before he returned to help pilot the plane home. At the time he didn’t bother to question why the Atlantean was there as, much like the others, they all just wanted to be away from the horrid place.

Besides, she had latched on Gawain and he doubted that separation was going to be an option. Besides, it was doubtful he would have never left the young girl on Atlantis either. He watched her closely, hoping that she spit out the chocolate chunk but it wasn’t going to taste any better the longer it stayed in there. It was only when she was done that he spoke again, kneeling to get as close to eye level with her as he could.

”Are you okay? Do you want some milk or water to wash the taste out?”

He wanted her to spit. In his hand? It didn't matter that there was a napkin there! That was embarrassing! She flailed and flushed purple, but the hand and napkin were right there. And he only looked at her with kind eyes. Kalos looked back and forth between his eyes expecting some change or some sign of duplicity.

There was none.

After her assessment was complete, Kalos grabbed hold of his hand and spit the bad food into the napkin. It was terrible enough that it just kept tasting terrible even after it was gone like it had coated her tongue. She collected her napkin of shame from him and used a clean corner to wipe at her blue tongue. Again, sensing her distress, the hero offered her some drink.

He really was a hero.

"Yus please." Whatever he had been looking for in her face, she hoped that he found it and that she did not disappoint him.

While he went for the drink, Kalos went to dispose of the shameful paper napkin. These people threw away everything, she'd learned. And many things were made of paper just so that they could be disposed of, like this napkin. She balled it up and dropped it into the plastic lined can meant for trash. Kalos had seen adults change the bags before, but despite her curiosity for where the bags went, she did not ever follow them. She was finished with trash management.

"You are one of the heroes of Atlantis." Though it was a statement, Kalos' words came out almost sounding more like an apology than anything else and were accompanied by another flush of embarrassed purple across her cheeks. "I'm sorry that I have not given you my thanks. I have gratefulness in my heart for your heroic deeds."

>>"Yus please."

He smiled a bit sympathetically to the young mutant. She was from Atlantis and, from what he had heard around the mansion, she was still trying to get used to certain aspects of modern life. Not that he could blame her. This was a drastic change in her life and, after spending her whole time on that island, it was going to be time before she could acclimate to this new environment. He had every faith that she would, though. There were good people here, people who cared about her and would steer her in the right direction. He doubted any one would give up on her.

With a nod of his head, he straightened up, and turned to reach for a glass in the cupboard above the counter. As he did so, he glanced over to Kalos as he wiped the napkin on her tongue, trying to remove the taste of the bitter, unsweetened chocolate. He was sure that every kid, mostly, did that at least once. After all, the packaging has what appears to be a chocolate bar on the cover. Who could guess it would taste otherwise?

Still, the older man didn’t want to hurt the young Atlantean’s feelings so he kept his chuckle within and instead busied himself with pouring her a short glass of milk. Water would have worked but milk at least would mask the taste with something a bit easier. So, the milk poured, Jorge turned to place the carton back into the fridge but stopped when she turned her large, blue eyes up towards him.

>>"You are one of the heroes of Atlantis…I'm sorry that I have not given you my thanks. I have gratefulness in my heart for your heroic deeds."

Jorge paused and sighed a bit. He couldn’t imagine the atrocities that the young girl had faced. Mirror had reported about the Necropolis, where all the Gorgons were kept out of sight. He could barely imagine such a hellish place. Then again, it was certainly something that was within humanity’s power – certain camps came to mind, for instance.

A small smile on his lips, Jorge stepped up to the younger girl, glass of milk in hand. Gently he knelt down so they were at eye level again and handed the glass over for her to take.

”You don’t ever need to thank us for that, Kalos,” he said gently. ”It’s our job to help, and we were glad we could help.” He waited until she took a few sips before he tilted his head. ”Are you enjoying it here? At the mansion?”

It was not until he stood up while staying so close to her that Kalos realized just how tall Jorge the hero was. She watched him, unsure if she was even half his height despite being more than that. Somehow heroes just seemed... taller.

And her thanks were given with full earnesty, unlike some of the compliments she had payed to others out of a sense of obligation or in order for tem to look at her with kinder eyes than they had started with. At first, it seemed that her thanks were not well received, however earnest, but the hero marshalled his face into a smile that was somehow still sad. She knew because he came down from being so tall and made sure to talk with her at her small height.

He passed her a cup in a glass that was perfectly round, perfectly see-through. Everything was so perfect here. She tried not to have her fingers gouge scrapes into it as she dutifully drank her milk from cows.

> ”You don’t ever need to thank us for that, Kalos...”

"Is it not in this culture to give thanks?" She made her words slowly as she found the right ones. She wanted to do this thing right, this living up here thing. He'd said it was their job. Did workers not get thanks for their work?

> ”Are you enjoying it here? At the mansion?”

"Yes." Was her automatic response. She did NOT want to go back... and yet... "Everyone is nice so long as I do not scare them." She held her milk glass tight. "I think that many people are scared sometimes and I say wrong things sometimes." Some of that was time and experience. She would get it eventually. "I have a hard time not saying what I am used to when things are different."

Jorge could scarcely think of anyone in the mansion who had a tragic backstory. The only individual that came to mind, of course, was Belladonna Honey . Her parents had tortured her for being a mutant, committed cruel atrocities upon her physically and spiritually. If anyone was going to turn down a bad road, it should have been her. Thankfully the young woman had proven to be quite resilient and saved herself from the gaping maw. Now, with another young girl who faced a similar, and in ways far worse, situation, he found himself thanking his lucky stars that they got to her when they did.

As it was, Kalos was going to have to learn a great deal about the life that she now found herself in. There were so many nuances that people in the modern age just took for granted. They grew up and learned them on the fly. Kalos, on the other hand, was coming from a completely different culture that had grown stagnant through the passage of time. As difficult as it would be, she was still young enough to learn, Jorge had faith that the transition wouldn’t be too terrible for her.

At her show of gratitude for rescuing her form the life, Jorge, being the humble man that he was, simply stated that she didn’t need to thank them, that they were happy to help. However this seemed to perplexed the young coral mutant.

>>"Is it not in this culture to give thanks?"

Dammit. Walked into that one, didn’t he? With a pause he smirked and nodded his head in confirmation. ”It is. But, there are situations where it isn’t required. Us, saving you? You don’t have to thank us. We did it because you deserve a good life. Good deeds like that don’t require thanks.” He then smiled as he didn’t want to confuse her further. ”But…thank you for your gratitude.”

Settling down onto the floor so that he wasn’t kneeling the whole time, Jorge pressed his back against the bottom cabinet as he watched the young mutant. She was sipping at her milk when he had asked if she was happy here at the mansion. He understood that it was going to be a change for her, especially given all that Mirror saw in the necropolis, but from reports she seemed to be adjusting well. Still, all that really mattered was her own opinion.

>>"Yes…Everyone is nice so long as I do not scare them…I think that many people are scared sometimes and I say wrong things sometimes…I have a hard time not saying what I am used to when things are different."

He smiled in a kindly way towards Kalos. She really did have a long road ahead of her but considering that she had only been at the mansion a few months, he was doubtful that it was always going to be like this. She simply needed time and patience, at least that was what he thought. The fact that she wasn’t hiding in her room or trying to run back to Atlantis, though, was a good sign that she was indeed wanting to stay.

”I don’t think people are scared of you,” he said gently. ”I’m not scared of you. Mirror isn’t scared of you.” He gave her an encouraging smile. ”And you know what?” he sat forward so that he could lower her voice for only her. ”I say the wrong thing sometimes too. A lot of people up here do. So…you see?” He grinned. ”You’re not so different.” he took a breath as he leaned his back against the cabinet door again. ”And you will get a handle on things. I know you will. And in the meantime, we’re all here for you whenever you need us.”

He paused, looking up. The kitchen seemed somewhat bigger now that he was sitting on the floor. That was an observation to save for later. In the meantime, he did have a cake to make and he may as well enlist the help of the little chocolate thief here. He turned his eyes to her and smirked.

”Would you like to help me?” he asked. ”I have a big cake to make and I could use a helper.”

"I will always say thank you."

He could tell her she didn't have to each time. She still would. Because no one had ever done anything for her since the day her parents died. And now they were. Everyday. Thank yous weren't even enough.

The hero could not be more wrong about the scared-ness of others. "You are big. You are brave. And you are a demigod hero with powers beyond the dreams of most children and adults. You would not have the scared-ness the way others do." If he wanted to talk about being scared, he needed to know what it was like to feel powerless. If he wanted to know what scared looked like in other people, he needed to know what it was like to come from somewhere else and look different and insist that everything said was true, no matter how fantastic.

She wanted to push him to get him away, but he was sitting. Hero Jorge was just too nice. Just... too perfect to say that he wasn't. How dare he compare them?

"Maybe you should practice to say some wrong things. Make it a small amount more true." She grumped, but in the end didn't even touch him. Gawain would have been proud, she thought. No one got pushed. She nodded to his assertion that people would be there for her. So far, besides the odd hours where she slipped away just to be away, she'd rarely been alone. Whether by accident or design, people had reached out to help her. Like now. And here. She'd tasted his bad chocolate. And she wasn't even in trouble.

> ”Would you like to help me?”

She started to formulate what she thought would be a polite decline of his request. Now that he was taller again, he did not seem so friendly.

Unless. He said the magic word.

> ”...cake...”

She breathed in, clearly excited, and then clamped down on that excitement. He was not making a cake for Kalos. She was already sure of that and the idea of making a cake was torturous if it went to someone else instead.

But maybe... she could learn to make cakes for herself.

Her eyes went wide and wider as she realized that, if she knew how, she could make cake.

"Can I learn to make a cake with you? You teach me?" She needed to negotiate up front about this knowledge. It would not do if he claimed later on that she had stolen it from him unfairly.

"I will get a chair." Because he was too nice to say no, wasn't he? Like all the people who lived here. Kalos went around to the seating area and grabbed a wooden chair. She had to bend back at the waist to get the bulk of it lifted, but she was moving it. Chairs were the best way to see u high, now that someone had told her that feet were not allowed up on the counter tops.

He understood, partly, that it was going to be tough on the young mutant. She looked a little disgruntled in the way that he said that everyone said the wrong thing from time-to-time. While it was true that everyone made that mistake, Jorge more times than he could count throughout his history, Kalos was under the impression that it was something that was beyond him. She definitely had a lot to learn now that she was living on solid land again.

She grumped and Jorge couldn’t help but smirk a little at her endearing stubbornness. It was going to take time but she would begin to pick up on the nuances of the world that she was not suddenly dropped into. In the meantime, it was best to not correct the little bite, or he could make himself seem untrustworthy to her. Gratitude would only get him so far with the hard-nosed Atlantean, that much he figured already. If trust was going to build, there then definitely needed to be some give and take.

So there was an alternative offered – did she want to help him make his cake. There seemed to be a flash of reluctance on Kalos’ youthful face. As a matter of fact, Jorge fully expected the young mutant to decline and run off into the depths of the mansion until they next time that they crossed paths. At least he didn’t fully ruin their interaction.

But, it would seem that something about his offer had actually spurred her on. When he clarified that he wanted her help in making a cake, that alone seemed to switch her fears. Suddenly he could see the excitement in her big, blue eyes and Jorge had to suppress a chuckle, only smiling a bit at the girl’s reaction. Okay, so it seemed that “cake” would be the magic word of the day.

>>"Can I learn to make a cake with you? You teach me?"

He grinned and nodded his head. ”Of course I can teach you.” he confirmed. ”And I would love to.”

>>"I will get a chair."

He watched as she dashed away, towards the seating area. He would have gone to grab a chair for her but as he watched her waddle back into the kitchen, trying to carry one of the bigger wooden chairs, he figured it was best to let her have her independence. Again, she was sweet, but she was also a stubborn little thing and his carrying to chair for her might seem to be like telling her she couldn’t do it herself. Rather, he just waited until she drew close enough to him.

When the chair was realized from her grip, Jorge reached down to adjust it and to place a firm grip on the back end so that it wouldn’t slip over the floor when she tried to clamor on top. Keeping it in place, he waited until she had climbed on before he released the chair and then turned back to the ingredients. However, a glance at the young girl again caused him to stop. She had just gotten a bunch of new clothing and he didn’t want to ruin what she had.

”Alright, first thing we need to do…” he said as he stepped away from her, marching along to a small storage cabinet in the wall. He pulled open the door and found himself two aprons, one white, one a robin’s egg blue with white flecks designed into it. ”…is make sure we keep our clothing clean.” He moved back to her side, set the apron in front of her and pulled on his own. He showed her, slowly, how to slip it over the head and then tie it around the back. Once that was secure, he opened a cabinet in front of him and pulled down an extra (though smaller) bowl, and procured and extra wooden spoon from a drawer. ”Once we have all our utensils, we are start mixing.” he gave her a toothy grin. ”Are you ready?”

Kalos' toes made a clatter against the wood of the chair as the girl climbed up. From this high, the cooking bench was much shorter than she was and she could see everything quite well. There were cherries and a bag of white powder and a jar of white powder and some white sand-like stuff. It was all very white looking, except for the fruit and the bad chocolate.

Apparently while Kalos had been inspecting the ingredients, Hero Jorge had been on a quest. The first step to making a cake was... putting on more clothes.

"Why do people wear so many clothes here?"

The extra clothes were open in the back and the color was blue, very close in color to her eyes. Kalos looked to her hero to see how it went on and she had to take some extra care to navigate the prongs of coral at her crown. She was small enough that the wrap actually did meet in the back and she could pull the strings around to the front and then around to the back again before it got tied shut. It had little dots of white that distracted Kalos for a moment, but she really did want to make a cake.

And she even got her own bowl and spoon. Hero Jorge had a bowl and spoon. She was going to be just like him!

She beamed up at him until she noticed his smile. Making a cake was a thing to smile about, but she had seen too many smiles that meant bad things. Even if he was her hero, it made her nervous and shy.

> ”Are you ready?”

"Yes. I am ready for making a cake."

It was only when Jorge was sure that Kalos was steady on the chair that he stepped away, explaining that they needed to have aprons if they were going to work in the kitchen. It took some effort but thankfully he did manage to find an apron that was small enough that it wouldn’t fully envelop the young mutant. Once he handed it over, he showed her how to put it on, tying it around his back and keeping it in place. Kalos mimed his movements, succeeded in tying her own apron but looked perplexed at the whole thing.

>>"Why do people wear so many clothes here?"

He smirked. To be fair he understood that things were different back in Atlantis. Not only was it a world that didn’t have the layers upon layers of clothing that modern people wore, but Kalos also had the unfortunate happenstance of essentially being a slave. The clothing, or rags rather, were bare and minimal at best. Seeing as that was the only life that she knew, it was no wonder that she was unaccustomed to this much clothing.

”Oh that’s just the custom up here,” he said lightly. ”Clothing helps keep you from getting dirty, it can protect from bad weather, and not a lot of people like running around in their bare skin.” He turned and gave her a smile. ”So clothing is an essential up here.”

With her own bowl and spoon in hand, Jorge then started to gather the ingredients. With everything laid out before them, her own bowl and spoon in hand, Jorge asked if she was ready. His smile was warm, friendly, and Kalos smiled back. However, after a second, her smile faltered just a tiny bit before she confirmed that she was indeed ready.

>>"Yes. I am ready for making a cake."

He nodded his head. Pulling over his already dry ingredients, he poured them all into his larger bowl and used his spoon to mix them up. He would have normally used a whisk but he was teaching Kalos and, well, there was nothing you could accomplish with a whisk that you couldn’t accomplish with a spoon. Showing her how he mixed all the dry ingredients together he poured out very specific portions of the ingredients and slid them over to her.

An encouraging smile, he gestured to them. ”Now, just like you saw me do it, pour all the dry stuff into the bowl and mix them with your spoon until they are all combined.”

It was incredibly helpful that hero Jorge had been to Atlantis. He knew some degree of where Kalos was coming from in her experience. He didn't belittle her for wanting to run around stark naked, he instead helpfully explained why it wasn't a great idea. The peoples of her land and the people up here had grown disparate over the thousands of years that had passed since their mingling.

"There are many more things here that are dangerous for a body. Many bugs." Her grave nod was meant to indicate that she understood how important clothes were in regards to keeping bugs off of skin. Frankly, the little crawlers were similar to crustaceans, which was acceptable. But the flying ones... "I don't like the bugs that have wings. They can come at you from anywhere."

Yes. She had just talked herself into wearing clothes. In fact, maybe more clothes were needed after the cake was done.

Every movement that Jorge made was closely studied by Kalos. It was more than just picking things up, it was a set of clues that informed her what things were okay to do and how certain things were to be treated.

She did her absolute best to copy him. When he used a little spoon to cup the grains of powder, so did she. When he slid the bag of white powder close to his bowl, Kalos did the same after he had finished. He tapped the handle of the cup onto the rim of his bowl three times. She made sure to hit her rim the same number. This cake making was like a magic ritual and she did not want to mess up a single aspect.

> ”Now, just like you saw me do it, pour all the dry stuff into the bowl and mix them with your spoon until they are all combined.”

She got her spoon and waited to see how hero Jorge mixed. Was the direction important?

"There is a boy who has the name Chase." Kalos ventured quietly as she stirred the dry things together. She was not alarmed that it was not a cake yet because it still looked the same as her hero's bowl. "He knows many things about cooking and some things he showed to me. His teacher Miss Terterner has taught him. You are the teacher for me today, hero Jorge."

Time and patience. That was all that the young Atlantean needed from the world. Unfortunately those were resources that the world wasn’t so willing to hand over without a bit of a struggle. Kalos would meet opposition, would deal with impatience, intolerance, even up here; but that didn’t change the fact that it was still a better situation than what she faced in Atlantis. For as horrible as humanity could be, at least she was free and at least she would be given the opportunity to create a life for herself here. Jorge had seen individuals with truly gnarly abilities actually carve out a future for themselves. He had no doubt that Kalos would be able to as well.

He gave her a soft smile as he tried to go over the nuances when it came to clothing. Clothing was a big deal, of course, as modesty (for most people) was one of the staples of society. She could disagree with it if she liked but, eventually, she would get used to it. It was going to be a difficult transition but with enough people behind her, he had a feeling she would be able to adapt, or at least find her own bit of happiness in the world.

>> "There are many more things here that are dangerous for a body. Many bugs…I don't like the bugs that have wings. They can come at you from anywhere."

He nodded his head. ”Yeah I can imagine there are a lot more bugs up here then from where you are from,” he admitted as he finished stirring his dry ingredients. ”That is why we wear protection. The good thing, however,” he continued, ”Is that the bugs up here, generally, won’t bother you if you don’t bother them. They just want to live their lives too.”

Jorge wasn’t the biggest fan of bugs either, but Agnes had gone a long way to showing him that they weren’t all necessarily bad, just misunderstood. At the end of the day, all life just wanted to live; some simply defended themselves more aggressively than others.

With the dry ingredients out of the way, and ensuring that Kalos had mixed her own correctly, Jorge then grabbed another pair of bowls so that the wet ingredients could be mixed. As the young Atlantean finished up mixing, Jorge gathered the rest of the ingredients, but stopped when she began to speak again, this time about someone rather familiar to Jorge.

>>"There is a boy who has the name Chase…He knows many things about cooking and some things he showed to me. His teacher Miss Terterner has taught him. You are the teacher for me today, hero Jorge.”

He smiled. ”Consider it my honor to teach you, Kalos,” he said gently. As he showed her how to pour the milk and eggs, he offered his help in cracking the eggs if she wanted to, but didn’t force it. As they mixed together these ingredients, he couldn’t help but comment. ”So you’re Chase’s new friend.” he gave her a knowing smile. ”He’s my son.” He then paused and considered it.

If bugs just wanted to live their lives, then they should not bother Kalos. There was a great big world out there for them to live in. There was no reason for them to fly close enough to her ears that she could hear them. It made her scrunch up her neck and want to slap at her skin and wear more clothes.

The cracking of eggs was a very intense thing. Kalos had seen eggs from very far away. She knew they smelled terrible if left alone for too long. She also knew the shells broke. To break the shells on purpose and make sure that everything got into the bowl was a whole new experience. Kalos crushed the first egg beyond repair. She scraped her fingers against the counter to try to recover it, but parts of the yellow were already sliding down the front of the cabinet.

"Can you show me another time?" On hero Jorge's advice, she went to rinse out her fingers. She even helped wipe up the front of the cabinet. This time, when hero Jorge cracked the egg, she made sure her nose was almost touching so that she could take in every detail. When she emulated him the second time, it wasn't perfect, a little bit of shell went swimming in her liquids, but it wasn't the utter decimation of the first egg.

Already beaming with pride, hero Jorge's admission that Chase was his son only further proved his incredible amazingness to her. He could save an island, he could bake a cake, and he could have an amazingly kind son? It was possible that no one would come close to the heights hero Jorge was climbing. Except, of course, hero Mirror who was both brother and sister to Kalos.

"You have a fine son with many good qualities. I especially love when he is gray and kind. Your qualities are very good, hero Jorge. I can see easily that you have given him goodness."

Jorge always loved to cook and to bake. There was something extremely cathartic about it. It allowed him to go zen, to just allow himself to lose himself in the process. Being a cop, there were many reasons a man such as himself needed ways to unwind. He was thankful that, unlike some of his cohorts, this was relatively healthy. The best part though, was being able to pass this knowledge down to another; especially to someone who wanted to learn, like Kalos.

When she had mixed the dry ingredients, Jorge started with the wet. This could get particularly trickier. While the pouring was easy enough, the eggs would prove a challenge. He should have already cracked them for her, but if she wanted to learn on her own, she should learn all aspects.

Cracking a pair of eggs into his own bowl, Jorge whisked the ingredients together but stopped when he caught sight of the Atlantean having trouble with the process. She had managed to crack the eggs but the majority spilled haphazardly, a combination of yolk and shell. She scooped it out to try again before she turned to him with to giant blue eyes.

>>"Can you show me another time?"

He gave her a nod. Taking up only one egg, he carefully tapped against the edge of the bowl until it cracked a tiny bit. He then showed her how to hold it up, and where to push her thumbs into the cracks to make it a controlled break, therefore spilling the contents into her bowl. It was only after he showed her did he step back and let her handle the last egg.

It wasn't a perfect break but it was far better than before. Only a bit of shell hit into the mixture but Kalos scooped up whatever she could, beaming with pride at her more successful attempt. Jorge gave her a sweet nod and a smile that she was doing a good job and went on to showing her how to whisk the wet ingredients together.

As the pair of them moved onto the next step, Jorge was surprised to know that Kalos had brought up Chase, his son. The two of them had apparently become friends and Kalos saw him in a good light. That made the old cop happy, knowing that Chase was connecting with some of the other kids. He knew he was having a hard time, especially growing up, and it didn’t help that he wasn’t around for part of it. However, now that he was back, he was happy to see the kid flourishing.

>>"You have a fine son with many good qualities. I especially love when he is gray and kind. Your qualities are very good, hero Jorge. I can see easily that you have given him goodness."

Jorge smiled. Kalos really was a sweetheart. Honest to a fault, blunt, but a definitely sweetheart. To know what she suffered in Atlantis was...saddening. She didn’t deserve any of that. But he was glad she wasn’t in that mess anymore.

”His mother and I do what we can…” he admitted. ”I’m glad to hear it, though.” He smirked as he waited until she was done whisking her wet ingredients. ”Okay, now we pour this into the flour and mix it with our wooden spoons...like this.” He demonstrated. She may make a pretty good cake after all.