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Post by GARRETT EDWARD MARCHEL on Apr 25, 2013 12:38:57 GMT -5
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There was nothing quite so delicious as a warm double cheese bacon-burger supreme. Garrett sat staring at one, his eyes appreciative and his mouth already salivating. He could smell the sauces, the lettuce and pickles, the melted cheese. He almost shivered with anticipation. Beside his burger sat a steaming basket of steak fries, a little tub of ketchup, and a chocolate milkshake. When Garrett went to Burger King, he went all out. Garrett reached across his table, snatching up the salt shaker. He had always been a huge salt consumer. He shook it generously over his fries, grinning. He set down the shaker, rubbing his hands together for one quick moment. He reached down, grabbing his sandwich. He had to squish it down a little, or it might not fit inside his mouth. He had a pretty big mouth, some serious jaw muscles after all of the stuff he had shoved down his throat. But occasionally there came a sandwich that needed a little squishing. This was one of those occasions. Garrett stretched his jaws wide, sinking his teeth with a quiet sound of appreciation. He set down his sandwich momentarily, chewing with satisfaction. His cheeks bulged awkwardly, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to mind. It was all for the sake of deliciousness. And for once he had the house to himself, for a few precious hours.
He grabbed a paper napkin, swiping it across his lips before reaching for a few fries. He dipped them (more like drowned them) in his ketchup before happily devouring those and reaching again for his sandwich. Garrett was more or less oblivious to his surroundings, in all honesty. He heard the sound of neighborhood parents shrieking in the yard. He’d left the TV on in the living room.
He took another large bite of his burger, reaching for some fries. There was one Earth in particular that gave him the creeps. He couldn’t quite remember her name, something to do with an animal? Horse? Nah, but it had hooves. Not a donkey, or one of those African things with the horns. Not a moose. Doe! Doe! Nell Doe Shepherd. That girl gave Garrett the creeps, mostly because she was a graduate level. So if shit went down, she was going to be serious trouble. But at the same time, she looked so innocent. Garrett wasn’t the type to take risks though, so he gave her – and every other Earth or Water – a wide berth. Of course, if the need arose he would go to battle for his element. He knew he was strong, had good control of his element. And he had a temper to match too. But that didn’t mean he went looking for trouble. He knew some Fires or Thunders who did that, but it just wasn’t his style. Garrett chewed thoughtfully, swallowing and reaching for some fries. He hated this whole war, mostly because he was afraid. War made people crazy, made them dangerous. In a situation of life or death, did anyone really ever stop and think, think deeply and carefully? Garrett didn’t, but he wasn’t all that much of a thinker. Well he was a thinker, but he wasn’t coming to any brilliant conclusions. He was satisfied with the simple things, they were easy to grasp. He grinned, picking up the remnants of his crumbling burger. He took another massive bite, filling his chipmunk cheeks to the brim and chewing happily. He preferred the simple things, they never questioned him – never required decisions. And they were so easy to become lost in.
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Post by JEREMY CLAYTON MARCHEL on Apr 25, 2013 19:06:48 GMT -5
 --- i'll be there when you close your eyes ,. [/color][/size][/font] ( HOLD YOU TIGHT, SAY GOODNIGHT )[/center]
Jeremy groaned, his eyes opening to slits. The sunlight burning through his curtain causing the drum beat in his head to speed up in time. Lifting his near, dead weight arms up, he pressed two fingers to each temple and rubbed gentle circles. He had seen this coming. Aside from the fact that fall had slammed into Maple Hollow hard and fast, he had felt increasingly sluggish throughout the day yesterday. Jeremy had even gone to bed only an hour before to sneak in a nap, claiming to have a headache, even if it wasn't a full blown lie.
The alarm clock finally blared to life and Jeremy Marchel glared at the offending device. "I hate you." he sighed, his accented voice still laced with sleep. Slowly, he removed the blankets that he had cocooned himself into, and regretted it almost immediately. The chill in his room ran straight down to his bones, and Jeremy immediately started to shiver. Reaching out a sluggish hand, he turned off the alarm clock. He eyed the comforter on her bed for an extra moment, contemplating bring it with him, but gave up that idea rather quickly. Instead he threw on a shirt over his exposed torso. Running a hand over his head, trying to will away the constant, slow, throb that seemed to run the full length of him head, Jeremy slowly made his way out of his room. His brother sat at the table, shoveling food into his mouth. ”Are you every going to stop eating?” Jeremy asked. Garrett was like a cow with multiple stomachs.
Jeremy’s eyes widened at the sight of what was on the table. A Burger King bag. ”Really Garrett? That stuffs going to kill you.” Making sure the fast food bag was empty; Jeremy reached towards it and made sure to get rid of the troublesome logo. ”Why didn’t you ask me to make you something? At least my food won’t put you six feet under in a couple of years.” Jeremy popped open the fridge door and stood in front of it as if just looking inside of it was going to tell him what it was he wanted to eat. Long after the annoying beeping warning went off he finally decided to set himself up with a sandwich.
Working the fixings onto two pieces of white bread, Jeremy plopped down in a seat across from his younger brother. ”Zac said not to wait up. He wouldn’t tell me what his plans were though.” Zachary was always the quietest of the bunch and mysterious to boot. He was always good at hiding stuff from the two. ”What about you, you got plans?” he asked. It was always a rough time trying to see if Garrett was up to anything or not. He was either in the mood to be around people or he was dead set in just relaxing.
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Post by GARRETT EDWARD MARCHEL on Apr 25, 2013 23:06:49 GMT -5
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Garrett was mostly oblivious, still enthralled in what little remained of his burger and fries. He wouldn’t really describe his eating as “pigging out” or “stuffing his face”. Garrett had been taught manners by his parents. He knew to chew with his mouth closed, use a napkin, all of that. He was a pig by no means. Sure he enjoyed his food a good deal more than the average person might, but what was the harm in that? People had to take pleasure in the little things, or risk being completely annihilated by every little sorrow in life. At least, that was how he saw it. He set down his now quite destroyed burger, reaching for his milkshake. He could feel the back of his neck prickling strangely. It was a strange sensation, and not at all pleasant. He rolled his shoulders, his face uncomfortable. He reached his arms back, scratching his neck. But still the prickling sensation continued. Garrett looked up just in time to see Jeremy stumble down the stairs. Garrett’s eyes widened in a moment of pure surprise, he’d been enjoying the short hours of solitude. “If I had wanted some gay salad I would have asked you for food.” He grumbled irritably, but without true venom. He was mostly annoyed at having lost his time with the house to himself. If he could have shot lasers through his eyes (which was one of Garrett’s top desires), he would have melted Jeremy’s skin right off his head.
He made a swipe for the bag as Jeremy crumpled it and threw it away. He frowned, “Hey man, there were still a few fries left in there.” He’d never taken Jeremy’s health lectures too seriously. He was sixteen. His body could take anything. He was fit (courtesy of a fondness for the boxing ring) and had a lightning-fast metabolism (no pun intended). Sure, in twenty years he might have to moderate. But youth was meant to be vivid, to take every advantage before they slipped away. Jeremy loved food – loved to cook and bake and all that shit. Garrett loved food too – but in an entirely different way. He loved to eat, any kind of food, but especially quick greasy food. He swallowed down the last bite of his burger, bunching up the wrappers. Jeremy was shuffling through the fridge, likely in pursuit of some ridiculous number of ingredients for an over-complicated snack. Garrett leaned over Jeremy’s shoulder and snagged a coke, sauntering back towards the counter and his favorite stool. “Zach’s out seeing the new Bruce Willis movie.” He vaguely remembered overhearing a conversation about something along those lines. He snapped open his soda, taking a swig. “And my plans consisted of food and the Batman trilogy.”
He was a social creature, but for once had opted for a night in. He didn’t have any particular girl he was dating. And he wasn’t in the mood for a night out with the guys, laughing like idiots and attempting to steal booze. And he’d assumed Jeremy would be out growing flowers or whatever it was they did with their free time. Apparently he was wrong. Perhaps Jeremy planned to plant flowers around the house instead.
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Post by JEREMY CLAYTON MARCHEL on Apr 26, 2013 13:11:27 GMT -5
--- i'll be there when you close your eyes ,. [/color][/size][/font] ( HOLD YOU TIGHT, SAY GOODNIGHT )[/center]
Once again Garrett cut down the offer and gave him his unfiltered thoughts. Jeremy finished off the first half of his sandwich before correcting him. ”I can make more than just salad,” dropping Garrett’s colorful adjective. Honestly the way he spoke sometimes made it look like respectful parents didn’t raise him. Sure, their Dad ignorantly dropped terms like gay or faggot when riled up with a beer or two in his system watching football on TV, but he was raised in a different time. Jeremy believed it when Garrett and their Dad shrugged off the words and said they didn’t mean nothing wrong about the terms. It didn’t stop Mom from casting them a fierce look whenever they did slip the word in though. Directing a finger towards the bag he just chucked Jeremy said, ”Twenty bucks I can make a better tasting burger that’s better than that. And it would be real food too.” Not that artificial fillers and added chemicals used to make low quality meat last longer in the freezers. He had a bone to pick with all those types of places that pushed out garbage and sold it as food. He dropped the issue though with Garrett knowing he’s probably heard enough of it by now.
Jeremy wasn’t fazed by Garrett’s protest. ”Counting fries now?” he joked. Whatever happened to counting calories? It was Jeremy’s turn to frown knowing that Garrett had insight onto Zachary’s nighttime plans. It was definitely a little hurtful that his brother couldn’t tell him that when he had last seen him. There wasn’t anything wrong with catching a movie, but Jeremy would have liked to join him. ”Well then…I guess it’s just you and me.” Ma was probably out running errands while Dad finished up at work. Jeremy perked up at the mention of Batman though. ”Oh! The new ones or the old ones?” Jeremy liked the new ones, but the older ones were better. Tim Burton and Joel Schumacher had done a really awesome job revamping the series. Except the fourth movie. Everyone knew that was an embarrassment to the franchise. George Clooney couldn’t even find a redeeming thing about it and he was in it.
He was in murky waters right about now. He had no plans himself and Batman sounded like a pretty good way to kill some time. Garrett’s mood was hard to read though now and if he pushed too much he might get burned. He really wished Zachary was here instead of out at the movies with whoever he snuck around with these days. There interests other than food -sometimes- were far apart. ”You mind if I watch?”
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Post by GARRETT EDWARD MARCHEL on Apr 26, 2013 14:03:06 GMT -5
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Garrett blamed Jeremy. Perhaps it was petty, unjust, childish. It was well within his vindictive Thunder nature. But whatever the reasons, whatever the motivation, it was true. He blamed his elder brother – for the alliances, for how they had grown apart. Jeremy had been the first one to turn away, to duck his head and scurry. Garrett saw the way his brother’s eyes widened, the trill of nervousness and fear when his gaze landed on a Fire or a Thunder. Did he honestly think their situation was unique? He’d heard of others. He’d asked around. Apparently a Fire graduate had married an Earth. And Garrett wasn’t turning against his element, he wasn’t dating some sissy Water. All he wanted was to sit and eat lunch with his brother. And Jeremy had never fought for the right, never been brave enough to stand up, walk over, and take a seat. Perhaps it would have been more logical to blame the Academy itself, the elemental leaders. Perhaps he even should have blamed his parents. If they hadn’t gone against the alliances in their union, perhaps they wouldn’t have ended up putting their children on two opposite sides of a war. But it was easier, cruel but easier, to blame Jeremy.
Garrett lifted his diet coke, taking another slug of the murky liquid. He raised a brow, shrugging nonchalantly. “My Burger King burgers are real food, and they’re a hell of a lot faster than your shit.” He knew if he walked into Burger King, he’d be fed within minutes. With Jeremy, everything was an art. It had to be done just so. It was like those overly-dramatized cooking shows – Hell’s Kitchen or Master Chef. He was impatient, and had no desire to wait around. So what if the meal might be a little better? It wasn’t worth the trade-off. He waved a hand in answer to Jeremy’s question. “New ones, with Chrisitan Bale.” He had always been a fan of Bale as Batman, the casting was brilliant. And Scarecrow, well perfection in the simplest of terms. He didn’t truly care whether Jeremy joined him. Though doubtless he’d have to hear all about the virtues of the old movies with Adam West. And he wasn’t a fan of chatter during his movie-watching. “If you can make me an equally good burger and fries before Batman figures out who Scarecrow is, I won’t eat fast food for a month.” As if to emphasize, he snatched a bag of Doritos as he headed towards the living room. Knowing him, he could eat for hours and still convince himself he was hungry. And perhaps Jeremy would take the challenge.
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Post by JEREMY CLAYTON MARCHEL on Apr 28, 2013 11:01:25 GMT -5
--- i'll be there when you close your eyes ,. [/color][/size][/font] ( HOLD YOU TIGHT, SAY GOODNIGHT )[/center]
Garrett didn’t seem to get the whole vibe of the message he was trying to send his way. That was the thing with the two brothers though. Their communication towards each other always got jumbled up somehow even when they talked to each other. Jeremy just brushed it off as them having two very different mindsets. Faster didn’t equate to taste. Real food? Yeah, Grade F meat still constituted as real food in some countries. Garrett might have thought twice about Burger King, Taco Bell and Kentucky Fired Chicken if he watched how their ‘food’ was processed and made. That would be pushing it with Garrett’s tolerance level. But Jeremy was a fry cry from joining PETA any time soon. He loved a good carnivorous meal as much as the next guy.
Jeremy saw the wonders the new Batman trilogy had to offer. They had brilliant casting choices when it came to villains and Michael Caine still every scene he was in as far as the Earth was concerned. Still, the older movies had a special place in his heart. From the crony Adam West to the perfect amount of crazy in Jack Nicholson. Bonus points for Nicholson also being in The Shining of course. Horror and Monster films was what really sold Jeremy on a good movie night. Old school Dracula, suspenseful music, and a twisting story line. Now horror movies just added gallons of blood and sickening torture scenes to scare people. All pretty cheap tricks to get a reaction in Jeremy’s opinion to be honest. ”Give me a five minute warning before the big reveal and you’re on.”
While Garrett popped a squat on the couch Jeremy pushed his own lunch aside in hopes to rise to the occasion. No time to search for his apron with a refrigerator half stocked. Ground beef would have to suffice over his preferred choice of kobe beef, but Jeremy was determined to have his burger beat fast food. He didn’t have time to pull out all the stops, so he loaded up his hands with everything he could get his hands on. Making two trips was for weaklings he decided as he balanced his ingredients over towards the counter. ”I mean, I know this is probably some trick to just get yourself another burger, but I’d rather your stomach be full of something flavorful anyway so I don’t care if you’re just trying to pull on over on me,” Jeremy called out to the living room. Garrett had a way of pulling a fast one on the gullible older brother.
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Post by GARRETT EDWARD MARCHEL on Apr 28, 2013 16:46:56 GMT -5
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Garrett was only now half-listening. He’d shoved the DVD into the player and the beginning credits of Batman Begins were scrolling across the screen. He flopped onto the couch with the remote, kicking his feet up. He didn’t wear socks. He’d hated them since he was a child. They always felt constricting, like they were trying to force his toes into becoming something they simply weren’t. It often drove his parents made, who had no interest in seeing his large hairy feet paraded around. But no one was here to berate him, except for Jeremy. And in all likelihood, Jeremy cared far too much about his precious food to consider the implications of Garrett’s bare feet. He set the bag of Doritos on his stomach, popping them open. He plucked a few, crunching them loudly. He turned up the volume as the symphony music began to play. Any moment now, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne would be fatally mugged, sending young Bruce into his journey that would become the origin of the Batman. The movies enthralled him, each and every time. In truth, each time was like the very first time – exhilarating and suspenseful. Plus he was an avid fan of Liam Neeson’s portrayal of Ra's al Ghul.
Garrett glanced over his shoulder towards his brother, stifling a snort. He could see Jeremy was taking the challenge seriously. He hadn’t even paused to tie on his gay little apron. While Garrett often mocked Jeremy’s penchant for cooking, he wasn’t truly cruel to his brother. Only teasing in the mocking way teenage boys often were. Garrett shook his head, turning back to the movie. He called over his shoulder, his voice high with amusement. “Don’t forget condiments and fixings! My Burger King burger had lettuce, tomato, pickles, onions and mayo!” Those of course were the parameters of their little bet. No burger could be held equal to the Burger King burger without all the classic standard features. And honestly, without the delicious grease that was so characteristic of Burger King, Jeremy’s food would need a little something extra to push it over the edge. He popped anther handful of chips in his mouth – licking cool ranch seasoning off his finger tips. Garrett grinned at his brother’s words. “It’s a little of both, really! I can’t help it if I’m hungry and you’re obliging.” But the younger Marchel brother would be true to his word. If Jeremy’s burger was as good as he claimed it would be, he’d give up his precious fast food. He paused, shouting over his shoulder quickly – “Subway doesn’t count as fast food, for the record.”
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Post by JEREMY CLAYTON MARCHEL on Apr 30, 2013 0:52:25 GMT -5
--- i'll be there when you close your eyes ,. [/color][/size][/font] ( HOLD YOU TIGHT, SAY GOODNIGHT )[/center]
Jeremy had little time and loads to do, so when Garrett said something about subways he simply replied ”Uh-huh, cool man.” So he needed to at least have some onions, lettuce, pickles, and tomatoes. Easy enough. Garrett never said anything about adding a little something else to sweeten the deal. He’d start with the tomatoes so they could roast while he banged out more components of his burger. For this he needed to position the rack in the center of the oven and preheat the thing to at least 500°F. While the oven warmed up Jeremy pulled out a cutting board and a paring knife to cut the tomatoes into quarters. Placing the tomatoes onto a baking sheet he arranged garlic slices on top of the tomatoes and scatter the thyme sprigs over the tomatoes. Drizzling with some oil and just a sprinkle with salt and pepper he let the vegetable roast for a bit.
With a limited stock of a kitchen Jeremy was trying to make up all of this on the fly. If only Garrett had issued this challenge after their mother returned from shopping. Working his way to the fixings, Jeremy busted out some bacon to top off his own burger. No one could resist the fatty goodness of bacon. Since there were no shallots Jeremy had to forgo the added flavor it would bring and sick with just seasoning the ground meat with a nice blend of salt, pepper, garlic, a little Worcestershire sauce, and egg. Take that Burger King! Jeremy’s real prize should have been one of those golden crowns they gave out to all the kids. Before burning his tomatoes, he quickly pulled them out of the oven. A little more golden than what he wanted, but the flavor profile wouldn’t suffer too badly. Now he could relax and get to his favorite part about burgers: grilling.
Grilling was a man’s thing, relaxing and therapeutic. There had to be some pull to the activity that made grown men just sit around and watch the cook grill. The burger would have been even better on the outdoor grill, but time was Jeremy’s enemy. The sizzle of the meat let Jeremy know his burger was at least a nice medium cook. Powering off the stove top, Jeremy moved to cut the last ciabatta roll on the cutting board. Now was the surgical part of all of this. Like in all the shows Jeremy had begun to try and make his food look presentable. Like a nice painting framed by the white of the plate. He placed the lettuce over the grilled ciabatta bottoms with the beef patty on top of the lettuce. Jeremy spooned some mayo over the burger and topped with the crisped bacon and the ciabatta tops. Proud of his rushed dish, Jeremy grabbed a napkin and proceeded to the living room to present his work. ”You’re not going to find this at Burger King, I can tell you that.” Jeremy had no smugness to his statement, just an unwavering belief that his creation was going to beat out the fast food king.
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Post by GARRETT EDWARD MARCHEL on Apr 30, 2013 15:55:24 GMT -5
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Garrett didn’t know what he was doing, he barely ever did. He just kind of rolled with the punches, to use an American euphemism. He wasn’t a planner, a schemer, a plotter, none of that. And he wasn’t a leader either. He was a guy that was comfortable and happy following the examples of others – provided of course that they were respectful and all of that. Being a following kind of guy didn’t exempt him from his natural temper. Garrett was the cool guy, the one in the group the guys looked to for a laugh, for a winning smile, maybe a good-natured prank here and there (usually from a good enough distance away that they could escape before Garrett got really pissed). But Garrett wasn’t any kind of leader. So when he was laying on the couch, waiting for the burger Jeremy was currently putting every ounce of himself into, he hadn’t really planned ahead. Sure, he’d made the bet. He understood what it meant. But he wasn’t the kind of guy who had thought incredibly far ahead. He could have, if he’d wanted to. He just didn’t. He saw no reason to. It was a waste of time. And it wasn’t as if this burger was a life or death situation.
He had crunched his way about half-way through the bag of Doritos. He swallowed a mouthful, calling out over the sounds of conflict from Batman and a group of thugs. “Five minute warning!” Any second now Scarecrow would appear, Batman would make the big connection. Scarecrow was personally one of Garrett’s favorite supervillians. He loved the intricate backstories, the corrupt, but also finding something to pity within him. Sure the Joker was good for that too – and perhaps slightly more detailed and in-depth. But there was something so appealing about Scarecrow and his creepy little mask and LSD-drugs. And he was scary as shit. Garrett only looked away from the movie as Jeremy entered, presenting his finished burger as if it was the Mona Lisa. He arched a brow, sitting up and respectfully taking the plate. He looked at it, making a big deal of sniffing, noting each condiment. “You got it done before the big reveal, I’ll give you that.” As if to punctuate his remark, Scarecrow was unmasked on the screen behind them. Garrett settled the plate comfortably on his lap, the bag of Doritos forgotten for the moment.
He lifted the burger to his lips, taking a massive bite. He wanted to make sure he got all the goodies. There was cheese, mustard and mayo, even a little salt. He was a salt fiend. He freaking salted salad half of the time. He replaced the burger back on the plate, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. He waited a moment. He loved keeping Jer in suspense. “Fuck.” There was a sense of defeat. He picked the burger back up, taking a second bite. “You win, no fast food for a month.” He swallowed, chewing appreciatively. He wasn’t going to compliment exactly. But his resignation of defeat was enough in his opinion.
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