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Southern Hospitality


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Stesha took a thoughtful bite of her ice cream, licking her spoon clean. "Well," she began, "Ammy and I don't live in Freedom City right now, we live in an alternate Earth dimension called Sanctuary. I found it a few years ago when I was learning to hop dimensions, and it was in very bad shape, so I sort of adopted it as my sandbox. " She grinned. "For some reason, people didn't like it when I tried large-scale landscaping changes in the middle of Freedom City, but that place was so blasted there was nothing I could do to hurt it. So it became my weekend project, go out to Sanctuary and basically terraform it back into something habitable and nice. Then I realized there were actually people still living on that world, terrible as it was, so I invited them to come live in my little green space and helped them set up a farming colony."

 

She reached out with  a napkin to wipe Ammy's face, just in time to keep ice cream from dripping off the little girl's chin. "And my archnemesis, that's a long story, he went to prison and left his entire colony of giant fire-breathing bees with nobody to take care of them, so I brought them all to Sanctuary and set them up with some help from my friend Gaian Knight. So they live there now too, and so do a few of my hero friends, and a colony of monks and some scientists who like to research weird places and interesting cultural practices, and now about ten thousand Terminus refugees as well. It's an interesting place." She raised her eyebrows at Maybelle, silently inquiring whether her story passed muster. 

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“You have. Your own. Planet.†Maybelle shook her head hard, sending blonde curls in all directions. “You know what I was saying before, about Auric? Forget it. He shows up again, I’ll call you and sit back sipping martinis while you kick his butt.†She laughed, a vibrant, joyous sound compared to earlier. “Here I thought I had problems, and you come along and show me that all that doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.†She laughed again. “Your own planet. Man. Head Chef of a thriving restaurant doesn’t even compare, does it?†She held up a hand. “No, it’s all right. I could use the ego damage every now and them. Keeps me grounded.â€

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"Being able to cook like you do seems like a pretty fantastic power to me," Stesha countered with a grin, even as she licked her spoon. "I can do basic stuff, but most of our meals at home come from boxes or freezer bags. I didn't even get an oven in our place till last year, and that's mostly for things like the cookies you slice off a roll of dough and bake. Everybody's got their talents. Mine definitely tend more towards the great outdoors. And so do yours, right, kiddo?" She smiled indulgently at Ammy, who was finally slowing down after consuming two-thirds of her sugary treat. "Maybe somebody ought to teach you to cook." 

 

"I wanna make ice cream!" Amaryllis informed them with great enthusiasm. "We can cook ice cream in the freezer and make it pink and everybody at my school can eat it! And ice cream sandwich, ice cream pizza, ice cream milk..." She grinned as Stesha laughed. 

 

"Sounds like the makings of an ice cream headache!" Stesha told her, then turned to Maybelle. "Honestly, don't go belittling yourself because of what anybody else is doing or can do. There are people whose powers put mine to shame, and I can't start comparing myself to them or I start feeling all inadequate, and even they probably can't do everything they'd like to do sometimes. But I do mean it on the Auric thing. There's no reason to face off with him alone when you have friends to help." 

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At the mention of boxes and freezer bags, Maybelle paled and visibly shuddered. “D-d-d-do you know what they do to that…†She very carefully picked a word. “stuff?†She actually looked slightly ill at the mention of the prior oven shortage. “N-no oven?†She just put her head in her hands and breathed through Ammy’s interjection. She perked back up at the word “belittlingâ€. She was still pale, but otherwise seemed fine. “Oh no, sunshine. That’s a harsh word for it. I just think it’s best to keep things in perspective.†She paused a moment. “It’s like a country girl just getting her start in the big city. Half of Charleston knew me on sight, I was in the papers so much. For my cooking. Don’t really see the need for the hero stuff. I can help, so I do. Don’t really get why folk make such a fuss about it.†She looked confused for a second.â€Where was I? Oh, nevermind. My point was that it’s good to be reminded that there’s always someone better off and worse off than you. Know what I mean?â€

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Stesha nodded. "Yeah, I definitely understand that. It's easy to let your perspective get skewed, especially when there's a lot going on in your life. Amaryllis helps me with that, she knows that her issues are always the most important ones, no matter what else is going on, and she reminds me." She chuckled, while Ammy nodded vigorously in assent. "But around here, I think people make a big deal of superheroes because the city is very dangerous, much more so than most cities. They learned what happened when they didn't have the heroes to defend them, and it wasn't pretty, but even when they hated their heroes and chased them away, the heroes came back and saved them when it looked like everything was lost. People don't forget that." Stesha scooped up another bite of ice cream. "And the metahumans are what makes Freedom City so unique," she pointed out with a grin. "It's great for tourism." 

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“I would have less trouble with the concept if I had a cutie like her keeping me level.†Maybelle sounded a bit wistful, but she shook it off in a hurry. “Nah, I understand why heroes are a big deal around here. Colorful costumes. Flashy powers. Brave deeds. I get it.†She pursed her lips, actually looking slightly irritated. “It’s that I don’t think reporters should waste their time covering me. I don’t have a costume, and my powers aren’t that flashy. I mean, I’m not doing anything any other hero wouldn’t do if they could.†She furrowed her brow, genuinely annoyed at this point. “And yet I can’t even get a cat out a tree without folk wantin’ to be all grateful and take pictures and stuff. It’s annoying. Ugh, and the reporters are the worst. So pushy. No, I don’t want to be a star. I just thought maybe I shouldn’t let armed robbers get away or car accident victims bleed to death on the sidewalk. It’s not that big of a deal.†She looked very confused, as if receiving any credit for her heroic deeds was a totally illogical concept to her.

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"That's the reason most heroes here have secret identities, it lets them lead mostly-normal lives while still letting people enjoy their fascination with heroes. And the attention can get to be way too much sometimes, especially if the tabloids get involved." A look of great distaste crossed Stesha's face for a moment. "But for the most part it's harmless, and I think it's actually good for people. When you see superheroes on the news, it's mostly for good stuff, for rescues and good deeds and saved days. Pretty much everything else you see on the news is horrible. Being able to see heroes in action, or watch them on TV or read about them, it makes people feel safe. Like maybe if next time it's them in trouble, someone will be there looking out for them." 

 

She laughed. "I completely understand where you're coming from with the adulation being really uncomfortable sometimes. But I guess I try to remember that it's not really about me, it's about them and how it makes them feel. Makes it easier to cope sometimes. But hey, if you ever need to get away from it all, you're welcome to spend a weekend on Sanctuary. We don't even have reporters!" 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Maybelle opened her mouth. Closed it. Nevermind, she won’t understand. The truth was, she wasn’t in any way a glory hound or a diehard champion of the people. She wasn’t heartless by any stretch,however. Maybelle loved people. She didn’t want to see them get hurt. But that had nothing to do with she stopped them from getting hurt. She was a hero because it was right. It was who she was, ring or no ring. If someone needed help, she helped. End of discussion. She couldn’t think of a way to say just that any better without sounding like a bad person, so she just let it go.

Of course, as Maybelle didn’t have much skill or practice at deception, You’ll never understand might as well have been written on her face in big block letters. She let a mischievous light shine in her eyes, and changed the subject. “Do you have lawyers? Know it all professors? How about those meddling kids?â€

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Stesha gave Maybelle a considering glance, but allowed the topic to move onto the next subject without a hiccup. "We have a lawyer who works for us on Prime, but no lawyer in residence," she assured the restaurateur. We have two professors of agriculture, but they're nice, and many, many meddling kids." She chuckled. "But what kids aren't meddling? It's their nature to be curious, and they have a generally very safe world to run around in. No roads, no cars, no violent crime," she brushed her knuckles very lightly across the table, "and everybody keeps a pretty good eye on them. Very little technology beyond electric lights, but it's still a pretty nice way to live, I think." 

 

She looked over to Ammy, who was finally starting to slow down on her enormous sugary confection, then back at Maybelle. "Do you think you'll be making your permanent home in Freedom City, then, or is this a waypoint to something else?" 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Maybelle smiled broadly. “Honey, I’m 27 years old. I don’t have any future plans besides owning this restaurant some day. Maybe I’ll franchise. Maybe I won’t.” Her enthusiasm waned suddenly. “But really, I don’t know. I’m doing the two things I love to do. I’m cooking for lots of people, and I’m helping out people in need.” She shrugged. “Don’t need anything other than that. Though, I admit, it would be nice to have a set up like this back in Charleston.” Noting that Ammy seemed to be running out of room inside of her and Stesha was about finished, she spoke again. “Y’all need anything else? Or you need the bill?”

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"I think if I even had coffee, you'd have to pry me out of the booth with a stick and roll me to the sidewalk," Stesha admitted with a chuckle. "And herself is about to fall asleep in her bowl." Indeed, Ammy was looking blissfully sleepy, licking her spoon and blinking her eyes hard as she picked at the last third of her dessert. "It was very nice to meet you, and your restaurant is fantastic. I'm sure we'll be coming back here soon." She thought for a moment. "On the other hand, could I get a dozen pieces of that cornbread packed up to go? I have to run a town council meeting tonight and taking along some food might make things go a little smoother. Especially really excellent food." She put her own spoon down in her empty dish with a sigh that was all pleasure. 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Maybelle’s brow wrinkled in thought. “Don’t remember mentioning any cornbread…” Her eyes zeroed in on the table, where tonight’s complimentary bowl of bread was in fact, cornbread. “Oh! Sure. We’ve got tons of that. Bread’s the only thing I make in bulk. Cornbread’s by far the most popular, though Dunno why people like it so much. Recipe’s pretty standard, as cornbread goes.” Said the South Carolina girl who was far north of South Carolina. Hooray for cultural obliviousness. She levered herself out of her seat. “And don’t you worry about getting to the street.” She brandished her ring and grinned mischeviously. “I’ve lifted cars with this thing. I think I can get a mom and her kid to the curb if I have to. I’ll meet you at the register.” She strolled into the kitchen, leaving Clara to hand off the check to Stesha and Stesha to collect her sleeping daughter and head that way.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Stesha followed her within a couple of minutes, a sleepy Amaryllis settled comfortably on her hip and a good tip on the table. She pulled cash from a pretty floral-patterned purse to settle the bill, then collected her bag of bread. "Everything was delicious, your operation here is really top-notch," she told Maybelle sincerely. "I hope you get the reputation you deserve, except then it might be so busy I can't get a seat for dinner anymore." She laughed. "Guess that's just a risk I'll have to live with. But please do give me a call if there's ever anything I can help you out with. I know how it is being new to town." 

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Maybelle wore a polite smile as Stesha was speaking. The restaurant had emptied out some while the Freedom Leaguer and her daughter had been eating. “I appreciate that. We do work hard to make the Queen a success. It’s not a one woman show at all, despite how your evening has gone. And don’t you worry about getting a seat. We’ve working on getting the permits for a few tables outside. That should help with seating issues until we can expand the building a bit.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “To tell the truth, we’re only packed to the walls during the meal rushes anyway, and even that’s not so bad for breakfast. Still, don’t tell anyone. Image is everything. The more people that think we’re always busy, the more people that come by, you know?” She leaned back. “At any rate, thank you for your business and please come again.” They exchanged a few more light pleasantries, and then Maybelle watched Stesha and Ammy leave. And then there was a “crisis” in the kitchen, and Maybelle went back to work.

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