[The Kitchens] Offering an Olive Branch (Edric Wingard)

by **Azira** on January 28th, 2014, 2:13 pm

43rd Winter 513AV

Exhaustion. That was what the huntress was suffering from, her lethargic movements making that clear to anyone paying attention. Azira seemed to be moving on auto pilot though she was obviously aware enough to avoid bumping into people as she followed the crowd into the Kitchens. She would have preferred a quieter environment but there was no choice these days. Everyone came at the same time for food or they wouldn't get anything and that was that. The only positive thing that could come out of it as far as she was concerned was that the noise of the rabble might keep her awake. She was so tired she was coming close to sleep walking her way up to the counter to get food.

Getting dinner was more of an ordeal than something to look forward to. The teen was too tired to be hungry, too tired to want to do anything in fact but she needed to eat and it was that need that had her trudging to get food she didn't want. Coming here also put off going to sleep longer, a fact that she was actually glad about. If she could just get tired enough, Azira was hoping that she could just fall into a deep and dreamless sleep. She needed to avoid dreaming. Her nightmares involving the elk had been joined with new ones, ones brought on by the horrible day of the avalanche. Her dreams now consisted of crushing cold and suffocation as well as darker, more twisted nightmares involving Lorthen. As a result, sleep wasn't doing a lot for her at the moment. All it brought was terror, screams and cold sweats as well as the fear of going asleep. If the Dreaming Lady had still been open she would almost have been tempted to go there to sort it out. Almost but not quite. There were things in those dreams that she didn't want to share with anyone.

Finally reaching the counter, the girl handed her meal token to the server with an order of "give me anything." Her tone was lifeless and uncaring but the server made no comment as he handed her her meal. There were many other despondent citizens so it wasn't anything unusual or noteworthy. The lack of reaction only dimly registered in the teen's mind. She hardly even glanced at her meal either, not caring what it was, instead focusing on finding a reasonably empty table and plonking herself down.

The idea of using her dinner as a pillow was oddly tempting but she knew that that wouldn't do any good. She'd just embarrass herself and probably scream the Kitchens down when she had a nightmare. So that was definitely out. Forcing herself to look around her instead, the Avora searched for anyone that she might know. There was no sign of Syveris or Alori or anyone else that might have a conversation with her. Conversation might keep her awake but there was just no one to talk with. She'd even converse with someone who didn't like her though she suspected that her vulnerability would be taken advantage of but what did she care right now?

Her food was pushed around the plate, round and round with the girl only taking the occasional bite of mystery meat (she really had no idea what it was) or limp vegetable. Every other chime, her tired eyes would rise to scan those new arrivals who were queuing up for their meals. There was still a steady trickle of people entering the dining area so there was still a chance that someone she knew would appear. She certainly hoped so or she was going to end up face first in her dinner and she knew it.

x

by **Edric Wingard** on February 3rd, 2014, 7:43 pm

The Kelvic let out a jaw-breaking yawn, wearily rubbing his eyes free from the clinging remains of sleep. Slowly, as if pained from being immobile for so long, the man sat up, his back cracking in protest. A lean wrist held his toned body up as he stretched, rubbing his fingers roughly through the rat’s nest that accumulated atop his head while he wondered what time it was. After his impromptu bath with Ainyi the evening before, the Eagle had found himself unable to sleep. His mind was racing with questions he was incapable of answering, the new feelings that were stirring in his belly so foreign that they startled him into silence. For most of his life, his apathetic nature had guided him unquestioningly, his ability to be detached from situations allowing him to be objective. Now, however, he felt the stirrings of hesitancy in his actions and thoughts.

It worried him, this taint in objectivity he was now experiencing. These feelings were hindering his logical mind and it was so unappealing that the man questioned if he should even continue his association with Ainyi. She was no sorceress; these emotions were his own creation, but he knew that it was her presence that was cloying and seducing his mind into a foggy mess of complacency. Perhaps if he distanced himself, then maybe he could gain control of these erratic and useless feelings and like an unappealing bug – squash them.

Collapsing back onto his bed, the hunter let out an annoyed sigh. Why was she haunting him so? She was merely a Chiet with adequate archery skills that he was taking advantage of. Her intelligent was above normal for an Inarta, but hardly at his own level, so that could not be the reason he was attracted to her. She was pretty for a woman, but her features were hardly spectacular and memorable. Groaning this time around, he shoved his face back into his bedroll. What was wrong with him?

Hissing rather veraciously, Wingard threw himself from his bed, the keening sounds spilling from his lips rather reminiscent of his animal side. Dragging on a pair of bryda, he tsk’d at his petty thoughts, somewhat disgusted that he was acting like a love struck puppy. She was obviously a hindrance to his proper mental state, but he was the poor fool that was allowing her to affect him so. Wrapping a scarf around his neck and stuffing his feet into his boots, Wingard was determined to ignore these feelings and actually get on with his day. As he slipped on his final boot and strapped his sword to his waist, he peered out the entryway of his aerie and let out another sigh of annoyance. Great, he had wasted a day sleeping.

Exiting his home, his foul mood continued to follow him, skirting behind his body like a shadow of ill-will that threatened anyone that came close. He was a black cloud of irritability, stomping down the pathway towards the kitchens without glancing at any of the figures that stumbled out of his way as they attempted to avoid the dangerous aura that was spilling forth from his pores like a toxin pool. The creature attempted to calm his raging mind, reminding himself that breathing evenly was a great place to start, but it was a hard battle of meditation.

Inhaling through his nose and exhaling via his mouth, Wingard slowly gained a semblance of control as he finally arrived at the kitchens. It was rather packed, he saw, watching as the Inarta shuffle about mindlessly, collecting their daily ration of food and sitting down. Stepping into the queue, the Kelvic looked at today’s choices and felt his stomach flip at the unappealing selections. The hunting team had really been struggling recently; catching prey so difficult that when it actually occurred, it was hardly worth all the effort that one went through to get it. They were mid-way through winter, so like the starving folk of Wind Reach, the animals were becoming emaciated as well.

Placing his plate in front of the server, he let them place whatever they wanted on it before moving away. His mouth felt dry, but after the recent water fiasco, he didn’t dare drink anything that was available. Licking his lips instead, he surveyed the area for a viable seat, frowning as he realized he really didn’t have much selection in this area either. Spotting an empty seat, he easily recognized the drooping head of the person it was across from. For a moment he contemplated if he should even bother, his instincts screaming at him that such a decision to occupy that spot would only result in a useless waste of energy, but as he glanced around, he realized he didn’t really have any options.

His eyes narrowing in annoyance, Wingard bit the arrow and made his way over, weaving through the seats elegantly. Placing his plate down, he settled into the seat, crossing his legs underneath the table as he picked up his fork and knife.

“Hello, Azira,” he began, his voice slightly raspy from disuse. He made direct eye contact with her, watching as the weariness drew unappealing lines across her face and blackened her eyes. Quirking his head to the side, he silently wondered what aspect of winter was haunting her and causing such exhaustion. Slicing his meat into bites, he continued, “Nysel seems to have a firm grasp upon you.”

by **Azira** on February 3rd, 2014, 9:19 pm

The temptation to close her eyes was overpowering. A sleepy argument was going on her head as she tried to convince herself to just lower the heavy lids for just a moment. Shut out the light and letting the darkness soothe her tired eyes. A tick wouldn't hurt but at the same time she knew that one tick would turn into a another and another until the battle to open her eyes would be lost. Maybe her food wouldn't be that bad of a pillow, soft, warm, what more would she need. Darkness overwhelmed her vision and the eyes of the huntress shot open again as she realised that she had been about to start drifting off.

A hand came up to her face to rub her eyes but still they burned and she still wasn't fully awake. The hand withdrew and came back to slap her cheek, hard enough to send slight shockwaves through her face and wake herself up a bit. Again Azira tried to just focus on getting through her dinner but it was just so much effort! The meal was unappetising, her appetite gone in the face of exhaustion and she just couldn't be bothered anymore. The girl was considering abandoning the endeavour altogether and allowing some Dek or someone to eat it in her stead when the greeting came.

Her head raised, forehead already crinkled in confusion as the voice wasn't one that she could place though its maker knew her. Her eyes widened when she saw the Kelvic sitting across from her. When had he gotten there? Was she that out of it that she couldn't even notice when someone appeared right in front of her? Apparently. The huntress managed a tired smile in an attempt of friendliness. Considering the circumstances in which they'd come across each other before such a response seemed wise.

"Hello, Wingard," the teen replied, stifling a yawn. "Looks can be deceiving. A firm grasp would not be the words I'd use. Tenuous perhaps, yes. Nysel holds me until I sleep and then couldn't care less what happens to me or whether I stay in that state or not." The huntress speared a piece of meat on the end of her knife and stared at it for a long moment before waving the utensil in the Kelvic's direction without thinking as she talked. "I've no idea what I'm eating, don't particularly want to eat it either but I need to. Need to sleep, can't and I don't want to do that either. You appear to want to eat and you also appear to be capable of sleeping. Well done you. Nothing to disturb your peace of mind I take it? Lucky bastard."

Rambling was a bad sign. She hadn't said anything offensive yet but it was only a matter of time. If she'd been more focused, no words would have escaped her lips that she dreaded sleep, that there was something to disturb it. Hopefully he wouldn't pick up on it and she could stop herself from chattering incessantly. That could only lead to trouble.

x

by **Edric Wingard** on February 9th, 2014, 11:23 pm

The Kelvic watched her idly as she slapped herself; the obvious hopes that self-mutilation would diminish the need for her eyes to close failing miserably. Just like the frown that soured upon her lips, her posture was unappealing in its hunched state and the man silently wondered how her spine could possibly be comfortable bent that way. She didn’t seem bothered by it though, so the rapture didn’t bother commenting. There wasn’t a point noting her distressed figure to her as it was obvious that Azira was aware of her own condition, so Wingard merely regarded her with an open stare of apathy as she spoke.

Absentmindedly, the man recognized the absence of hostility in her tone. It was surprising as he remembered the tension that thickened the air the last time they had spoken; their poisoned words thrown so carelessly around that he was surprised their encounter did not debilitate into fisticuffs. He would not go as far as to say that this was a pleasant turn of events because really, she did not have that strong of a hold on his bearings, but it was a strange encounter that he decided to take full advantage of. He was not in the mood to relish childish rants or condescending conversation so if he had the opportunity to make it through his meal with little to no confrontations, then he would submit, like her, to a mutual ground of respect.

His lips twitched slightly as she swung her meat laden knife around as she talked. It was an unconscious action that he found strangely amusing. Often, he figured many people that spoke to him tested the words that fell from their lips before directing them at him as they knew the fatal consequences that occurred if they angered him. Azira, however, seemed to speak without thought; her sentences long-winded and words absent of adornment. This ability to speak candidly was refreshing to the eagle, even though he knew that such speeches often resulted in unappealing opinions as well. But everything in the world had pros and cons, and this characteristic was merely another example of that. Regardless of how he disliked their previous encounter, Wingard had meant it when he had stated to her that he appreciated her mulishness far more than the submissive mouse she at one point embodied.

Taking a bite of a meat he could not identify, the Kelvic stared stoically as he chewed, refusing to shudder in distaste as his tastebuds screamed. Azira was correct in her statement that nourishment was needed, regardless of the disgusting taste that came with it, or the texture that resembled mush. Swallowing, he placed another slice in his mouth and nearly snickered out loud when she commented on his ‘want to eat.’ If there was anything further from the truth, he was unsure, but it soothed his ego that he was capable of faking his appetite to such an extent.

His ears perked up, however, as he caught her slip of tongue. Why would someone who has shown some type of brain activity not want to sleep? Frowning, the rapture stared at her squarely, his golden eyes observing her state closer than he had previously. Her worn down appearance was vacant of colour; her skin pasty and dull as it sat upon her bones like thin paper. The darkened circles of exhaustion bruised the flesh beneath her eyes in a tribute to a blackened one. |Tsk’ing beneath his breath, Wingard wondered why she was punishing her body in such a way. Without sleep, her senses and reflexes must be dull, hindering her hunting and capability to assist the city. She was devaluing herself; he thought crossly, the frown that marred his lips subtle but evident on his graceful features. What in Zulrav’s name was the point of that?

“As you stated,” he started slowly, his voice low and rough, “Looks can be deceiving.”

Slipping another bite of mash into his mouth, he chewed efficiently and swallowed. Looking her pointedly in the eye, he continued, ignoring her further comments about his own personal state of mind in favour of focusing on hers, “Why do you willingly avoid sleep, Azira? Are you haunted by bad dreams?”

His tone was distant and apathetic; his voice hardly raising an octave as he finished his question, knowing that if he wished for any information about the woman, he needed to not show any signs of pity over her situation. Realistically, he really just found her decision stupid and could hardly indulge in her self-mutilation, but he was interested in the threads of logic she obviously held in order to make such a decision. Like a beautiful tapestry weaved from thousands of individual threads, Wingard wanted to slowly unravel the mysteries behind this huntress.

He took another bite. It was disgusting.

by **Azira** on February 15th, 2014, 11:38 pm

Recognising her rambling, the teen made a strong effort to stop. Her lips were pursed together, the piece of meat stopped in its waving. Once she'd stopped waving it, her eyes moved back and forth between the meat and the Kelvic. Her eyes took in the little morsels of it that had detached from the main body of meat, leaving a trail in the man's direction. She hadn't even noticed what she'd been doing but now she realised her mistake, she became somewhat sheepish.

"Oops! Sorry, I shouldn't have been waving that at you, might have taken your eye out or something. I didn't get meat on you, did I?" the girl sniggered as she said the last bit, a tired senseless sort of laugh but she made the effort to stifle it, hand covering her mouth to try to contain her mirth. The serious expression of her companion made things funnier but his sound of disapproval reminded her that she shouldn't be laughing and so the amusement quickly died. Her former feelings crept back over her and within moments, the symptoms of exhaustion were back.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, the huntress took a renewed interest in her food, eating the morsel that she'd been waving around before and then examining the contents of her plate as she waited for Wingard to say something. She did not have to wait long for some sort of response from him but it was not the one she'd been expecting. Considering his previous countenance, the teen would have expected some manner of berating for her behaviour. She hadn't been behaving particularly childishly but his features had suggested disapproval at her momentary mirth. Instead he reiterated her point about appearances and she had to try to stumble back through their conversation in her mind to discover what he was talking about. Presumably he was referring to her comment on his eagerness to eat but the Avora couldn't be certain so she said nothing, just responding with a shrug.

He did get a more lively response from her however when he mentioned bad dreams. A wince escaped her before she could quash it, part of her inner feelings betrayed as her words had given more than she wanted not too long before. The huntress bit her lip, shaking her head in a slight movement, disbelieving her actions while also showing her unwillingness to discuss it. Her bad dreams that she did not want to even admit to, let alone discuss but the Kelvic didn't seem truly interested so perhaps a small admittance on her part would go unremarked upon. Perhaps the small act of sharing would make her feel slightly better although she wouldn't give too much away of his interest might flare up and that was definitely something that she didn't want.

"I've been having dreams that I find... disagreeable to me, yes," Azira explained, each word chosen with slow care before she spoke. "It makes sleeping difficult, or rather staying asleep so the attempt is somewhat... pointless." The teen shrugged as if it was nothing important but her eyes were haunted and distant as she met his gaze for a brief tick.

x

by **Edric Wingard** on February 26th, 2014, 8:47 pm

An elegant brow arched upwards as she giggled girlishly over her carelessness and questioned the presence of meat upon his person. Dryly, he responded with a simple, “I doubt it, considering I question if what we’re eating is actual meat,” but aside from that, he merely quirked his head to the side and listened intently to her as she spoke. It was rather obvious to him that seemed to be once again censoring her speech with him; her phrases short and hesitant as if she thought heavily over each word that spilt forth from her lips. It was somewhat bothersome to the eagle that she was guarded, each tick she took to think wasting his own precious chimes as he attempted to decode underlining meanings and trends beneath the superficiality of her statements.

It was an obvious challenge that he did somewhat enjoy as puzzles of any kind stimulated his mind, but more importantly his imagination, thus allowing him the rare opportunity to play detective. Although it would have been nice, he mused, if she was more of a willing participant, but the victory he would find when solving or discovering the missing pieces of her story would taste far sweeter if he had to work hard for them. Licking his lips as if he already tasted such a delicious morsel, the man directed his overactive mind back to the woman before him, studying her intently as she ate and fiddled around once more.

When her eyes rose and met his, Wingard did not bother flinching or looking away. He held her gaze steadily, watching her features with an open interest as he searched for any helpful hints to assist his quest for hidden answers. The haunted look that settled into her green eyes seemed to boast loudly of her loss of spirit; a missing trait that easily explained her passiveness with their current seating arrangement. The fatigue that permeated from her skin and settled resolutely upon her face was unappealing as well as it slumped her shoulders forward, but it was that haunted look that he was interested in. Unconsciously, he leaned forward, his head cocking to the side as he attempted to read any other feelings from her face. It seemed to be a fruitless endeavor, however, so he focused instead on her eyes.

There was obviously something that was startling her; scaring away her dreams of hunts, game, and plentiful food with an unappealing vision. She seemed like an emotional person as well, so the cause for such trepidation could potentially be a recreation of a bad experience in her life that left her feeling forlorn or lost. That experience though, could be a variety of things and it would be very presumptuous of him to assume that it was something shallow, rather than a big problem. Clicking his tongue out loud as he thought, the man’s eyes had narrowed slightly as he debated inwardly. Deciding that he needed more information before pushing his ‘investigation’ forward, the Avora asked, “Are these ‘disagreeable dreams’ influenced by any particular experiences?”

Sticking one of the last pieces of food upon his plate, he placed it into his mouth delicately and chewed. Once he finished eating, he slid his plate to the side and rested his head upon an enclosed fist, and waited, his eyes wide and clear as he searched for any indications or body language that gave away her secrets.

by **Azira** on April 6th, 2014, 7:29 pm

OOCSuch a wait I know and I apologise. It’s ironic considering how I used to complain about your slow replies

Her exhaustion was erasing her inhibitions and so she had to re-establish them again to stop herself from spilling everything in her mind to the Kelvic across the table from her. Some censorship and awareness of her words and actions was necessary if she was to avoid causing terrible offence to the man once again. While she had the opportunity to start over, or at least patch things up with the man, it was best to exercise some caution so as not to mess things up again. Her weariness would also stop her temper from flaring, which would help matters.

Yet Azira couldn’t repress other emotions. The disturbance that her nightmares had caused within her could seep into her gaze at any time and she knew that he’d see it. As their eyes met though, he didn’t flinch away as she would have expected him to but instead he seemed interested. The way he leaned forward, cocking his head to the side as he seemingly analysed her made her feel... uneasy. Not only did the huntress lean away from him but she also dropped her gaze back down to her still full plate. The young woman didn’t like being observed like that under that analytical gaze. She felt inferior when the eagle looked at her like that, insignificant and maybe that was how he saw her. He couldn’t do a better job of making her feel self-conscious either if she tried.

The huntress took a drink so that she’d have something to occupy herself rather than thinking about his rude stare. When his question came, she was shocked enough to spit out what was in her full mouth. Unfortunately, rather than spitting it back into her drinking vessel, she spewed the liquid all over her dining companion. The Avora stared at her companion, torn between apologising, sinking under the table or pretending that the situation wasn’t happening. Azira settled on the last, dabbing at her mouth as she began to answer his question, staring fixedly at the centre of the table as she talked.

“Why do they have to be influenced by any experiences?” she asked nervously, wringing her hands in her lap. “Can’t I just... conjure them up in my mind? Do they really have to have a basis in reality? Though... yeah, they are... based on things that have happened,” the girl finally finished, evasion gone suddenly as she realised what a terrible liar she was.

x

by **Vanari** on July 24th, 2014, 8:52 pm

Azira

Observation	+3 XP
Endurance	+1 XP
Rhetoric	+1 XP
Persuasion	+1XP

Lores :

Edric

Observation	+3 XP
Interrogation	+2 XP
Intelligence	+2 XP XP

Lores :

Notes :

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