Closed Two Mice, One Cookie Jar (Hwyn)

[Kayak]

Please Read Me First : Timestamp: Summer 90th, 517 AV (eligible to change if needed for consistency) Starting Location: The Galatos Family Commorancy for Children Status: Closed, Hwyn only Rules: Standard post order. No post time but please keep it reasonable. It was the start of evening and the Commorancy was surprisingly cool within its walls. Just the way Rhysol liked for his city. Many of the children were playing out on the playground, or practicing their crafts outside. Syna was beginning to set, and it was nearly time for the children to head in for dinner. But one of the cooks decided to give the tykes a little treat beforehand. Mrs. Dorisa was making her famous molasses swirl cookies. Every child in the orphanage knew this treat. Even the children that had left the orphanage would sometimes come by just to see if she'd made them. She often said that when she retires she'll open a bakery, but all the staff knows she'll never retire. The cookies went fast, but Mrs. Dorisa always made enough to have extras, kept in a particularly large cookie jar in the kitchens. But once the hand out window had passed, the kitchens were on lock down to the children until after dinner. And even after dinner, it was a special case scenario, and usually resulted in the child being sent away. Dinner was a lovely group meal consisting of broiled pheasant, fried potatoes, boiled lilypad greens, and blackberry jam. All of these were cheap in Ravok, for the orphans never got beef or chicken, and rarely got dairy products. But fish and bird and deer were easier to come by. Carbohydrates usually consisted of potatoes or anything made from reed flour. Berries and apples were a common treat as well. And of course, children must eat their vegetables, usually mushrooms, lilypad greens or cattail greens. While the children ate, there were only two cooks left in the kitchens. The first was old Mrs. Clara, whose temper was long and her eyesight was short. The other was Mrs. Dorisa herself, cleaning dishes, right next to the cookie jar. Another normal evening in the kitchens. Though if anyone was watching, they'd see Mrs. Clara's head turn, as if someone were whispering in her ear, and she just smiled, and nodded her head. Shortly after that, the lid to the cookie jar opened, and Mrs. Dorisa just smiled knowingly. A cookie floated on out briefly and disappeared. Light footsteps could be heard leaving the kitchen. And the two women just chuckled and went back to work.

[Hwyn]

Two Mice, One Cookie Jar

Eating, it’s a simple concept really, but obviously an important one, after all if one does not eat, in most cases, one does not live. So it’s in some ways an equalizer. Street rats and rich man alike don’t last long without bread. So when it came time for the orphans to eat, there was almost always an unspoken truce perhaps it was out of fear of the wardens that fed them, but Hwyn liked to think that it was less sinister than that, the sweets didn’t hurt either.

Talking and eating and enjoying the company of the others within the confines of the orphanage Hywn sat with the younger children. Those that were only of five to around eight cycles of age, not yet really tainted by the woes of reality. They were easy to be around and he didn’t mind the way they seemed to see him as an older sibling, it at the very least. So eating with the little ones just came naturally to him. The evening probably would have gone on as usual if not for the little tugging he felt on his sleeve. The girl beside him was wide eyed as she looked towards the kitchen. She saod something that sounded a lot like “didya see that, that cookie was flying!”.

Looking to where she was pointing Hwyn Squinted, he wasn’t too sure if she was just messing with him r not but her insistence convinced him that at the very least it was worth some curiosity. Squinting his eyes he let the feeling come into his eyes and he looked in that general direction. There was a dizzying mount of obvious ribbons dancing about the room, those of the children he knew, and sorting through them was hard but at the very least he was familiar with the children so all he had to do was find an unfamiliar ribbon and he would be able to figure out if something was going on, maybe. Looking at where the girl was had pointed he waited for his eyes to focus looking for anything of note.

Credit to Shimoje, the bestest buddy

[Kayak]

In the kitchen were a whole flutter of the magical ribbons that only the pathfinders could see. It was a mess of tangles, floating about through the air all over the kitchen, particularly around the central prep table. They were soft, warm hues of reds and purples, typical of those that worked and lived normal, mundane lives in Ravok. Mrs. Clara's came right from the very center of her being, slipping out through her back, a calm lavender, bouncing lightly like the extra weight in her backside. Mrs. Dorisa's, on the other hand, was a brighter vibrant pink, bouncing rapidly with the youthful vigor she maintained. Both of these strands were all over the kitchen, unfaded, strong, as the two kept working. They both also made obvious stops in front of the cookie jar.

But they weren't alone there. Three other strands stopped at the cookie jar as well, stragglers, since most people got their cookies before hand. Of the three bends, one was a deep, dark blue, slow, steady, but strong. Both ends led out the side entrance of the kitchen, not toward the dining hall, but rather further into the orphanage.

Another, a light, playful red danced around the kitchen a few times, stopping at the cookie jar. It seemed... hyper. Energetic for sure. One end went to the outer door to the playground, the other into the dining hall. The final one was a dark purple, steady, not bouncing, very direct in its pathing. It stopped at the cookie jar, with both ends heading out toward the playground.

Mrs. Dorisa and Mrs. Clara had mostly cleaned up now and were standing at the tables chattering away while they ate their own meals. Mrs. Clara talked about how she missed her late husband, a good man, a city guard who died protecting Lakeshore from a yukman attack. Mrs. Dorisa was comforting her, it seemed today was their anniversary. She spoke of her own husband, a lazy slouch, a former fisherman whose leg had been crushed and now just stayed at home and drank all day. He was mean and abusive. It was why Mrs. Dorisa threw herself into her work. She refused to have children of her own with such a monster. And the longer she stayed at work, the less bruises she had to try to hide from the children. Just like the large one on her wrist from his latest attack, deep purples and greens.

Code courtesy of Prophet the swagnificent

[Hwyn]

Two Mice, One Cookie Jar

Tangled knots and crisscrossed paths the squirming mass that was the evidence of life. He didn’t like looking at it, it almost always gave him a headache and confounded him, even if it did get results. He looked and saw many colors, the colors that reflected the people they trailed, from vibrant hues to dreary tints that reflected not only life but stories. He liked the bright ones, they were usually people that were pleasant to be around though that was hardly always the case, more that the owners of such ribbons were vibrant, people who had a zest for life. The darker lines were methodical, easier to follow and more earnest in direction. But even more than that there were so many subtleties he hadn’t yet grasped. Looking past the two women, Hwyn frowned as he lost focus, the younger woman’s plight frustrated him he liked her, and having to hear even in passing about her husband displeased him, pain was something he understood and hated to see inflicted. Frowning again he shook his head, he had noticed before he’d lost focus that there more than two ribbons in the kitchen.

There were in fact five in total, however of the three interlopers one shown so bright that it dwarfed the importance of the other two for the moment. Singling out the vibrant red from the blue and purple Hwyn squinted at it tracking it’s disjointed movement with some difficulty. But after a moment he was able to piece it together as it danced upon the invisible currents and eddies that Hwyn could not fathom.

It was going towards the playground and the dining hall, where he already was. The question was, was it coming or going? He was not yet wise enough to always get it right particularly when the lines were as fresh and vibrant as this one felt. He was sure that if it was however in the same room as him he could with some effort search it out. Gazing around the room he searched for anyone sharing that same crimson hue or at least a sign as to where it had gone. The ribbons of people and of fate were fickle and hard to follow, but his interest had been peaked so he wasn’t ready to give up on the possibility that something interesting was going on.

Ruffling the hair of the child who had tipped him off he smiled genuinely, informing them that if he could figure out whoever was making cookies fly around that the next flying cookie he found was going directly to them.

[Kayak]

The red ribbon wound around from table to table, thicker where its owner had stopped by certain people. Stopped by tiny Tammy and her group of girls. They were the the group that seemed to hate all boys with a passion. Calling them icky and sneering if one tried to approach them, all not yet teenagers.

It then stopped by the girl who sat alone, Shay. She was thirteen, and the newest arrival to the orphanage. She never really tried to talk to anyone. Her hair was cut sloppily and short, and there were circular burn scars all over her arms. She often startles if anyone approaches her, and shuts down in the presence of older girls.

The ribbon continued through the dining hall, before it stopped at Alfred on the far side of the room. He was one of the oldest boys, fifteen years old. The boy didn't do well at anything academic or creative, for he struggled to focus, to read, to sit still. It frustrated him greatly, and because his failures often embarrassed him, he'd become a bit of a bully. He currently was yanking on Emmy's pigtails, a bit roughly, her head whipping back each time. She hollered each time, but he would just reply snidely that it must've been someone else.

Everyone knew Emmy was mischievous, pranking and plotting all the time. But for the most part she was just an active girl, often preferring to play with the boys and do more active things, rather than sitting work. Alfred continued to harass the girl, who was getting more and more upset, before she finally stood up, facing the boy who was a full head taller than her. Then to everyone's surprise, she threw a surprisingly well formed hook that crashed into Alfred's jaw.

The boy was stunned and dropped like a bag of potatoes. Emmy was immediately on top of him, punching him over and over. No one had ever seen Emmy get pushed so far to violence. A crowd was beginning to form, people shouting loudly. Then the first glop of blackberry jam was thrown, splattering all over Amos' face. He hollered loudly in his thick accent, before grabbing some of his cold lilypad greens and throwing back at the unseen assailant. And thus, the food fight was born.

Food flew back and forth, and the chaperones were ignored, trying their best to stop this madness. Another one, one of the few male staff, Bobert came through the doorway from the hall, hollering loudly over the children. Behind him a cookie floated by, chased by a deep, dark blue ribbon. This ribbon extended down the hall toward the staff area, class rooms and the like, before it stopped, as if severed.

Several feet from the gap were two ribbons of that dark blue. One was more vibrant and thick, the other a bit more faded. Both extended down the hall toward a four way junction. The vibrant one took a right hand turn, toward the staff bedrooms. The faded one went straight, toward a storage area and some unused rooms, in a mostly desolate wing. The left hand turn headed toward the older kids living quarters.

Code courtesy of Prophet the swagnificent

[Hwyn]

Two Mice, One Cookie Jar

If there was one good thing to be said about chaos it was that in the wake of noise and trouble it was easy to be ignored when you were quiet. Perhaps to those that could not see the ribbons the day was quite mundane however to one who could much was going on as ribbons tangled and as the many warm bodies of children within the room began moving about He lost any traces he had had of the ribbons for the moment.
Getting up and scooting towards the exit skirting the mangy Bobert now distracted with the unruly mass he headed towards where the ribbon had been going. After a few blearing blinks and a rubbing of his eyes he found them again. Following the ribbons he was surprised to see for a moment they had converged before splitting about again. Frowning at the Hwyn was faced once more with the Dilemma of choosing a ribbon to follow. Deciding that he did not want to go anywhere that he knew he should not be he followed the dark blue ribbon that headed towards where he slept.
Creeping down the hallway he watched the ribbon this one solid and seemingly methodical, it wasn’t like the red one at all. He wondered what these were or if they were simply other children versed in sneaking about. He’d known people in sunberth who could walk through crowds without being spotted simply by virtue of understanding how to blend in. Following the ribbon he wondered what would happen if he even found the culprit. After all he was chasing what he had been told was a floating cookie, and while that seemed harmless enough aught was not often as it seemed on the surface, perhaps some great cookie eating beast was wandering these halls. The idea of a cookie monster amused him for a moment sounding preposterous coming off his tongue. No nore than likely it was just a sneak with a sweet tooth. That at least he could relate to. There was something to be said for one’s habits leading to there demise, he wondered how long this had been going on without him noticing. Frowning he resolved to use his eyes more often even if they gave him headaches they were well worth that they revealed he was beginning to think.

Rounding the corned he stepped into the bunkroom where he and the other boys slept peering around the corner cautiously wary of traps.

“Hello”

He called out quietly.