PM to join One lunch for another (Oresnya, Uerta)

[Comet]

46th of Spring
Just past the 13th bell
Communal Kitchens

When the Valintar assigned her to the Chiet, she had little idea as to what her life would exactly consist of. Some time had passed, and the overwhelming amount of daily work was starting to press on her. The work itself wasn't the most demanding, but the menial nature of it allowed her mind too much ease. Instead of focusing on carrying this, and cleaning that for the umpth time, she was beginning to think about the food in her hand. She had realized that Mother's light could sustain her in this form. Still, with so many things to do lately, she was often short on Sunlight and would need to eat regardless. It felt like they were taking more than just working hours from her, but she was in no position to complain. The once minor earthquakes were growing more intense over time, and it wasn't long before random rocks would slide down, jamming passages and hurting people. When a couple of Avora shoved their way through to the Kitchens, and started demanding people for yet another job, it was hardly surprising.

Of course, they'd finished their meals previously – it was the Chiet who were at meal time. This was no accident. These days, the mood in the air wasn't the best – likely due to a combination of earthquakes and bad news in the market place. Huddling closer to the food in her hand, she wouldn't really pay attention to them, but they did mention 'bird food' – or at least that was the best her Nari could make of it. 'Bird food baby' it rang once more against her ears, and she was slowly starting to pick up on the meaning behind this. The chicks who had recently hatched or their mothers likely needed some tending to. This would explain why they were bothering the Chiet during a meal, instead of first pressuring the Dek. Wind Reach had a cruel system, but people quickly learned that it was an effective one. Everyone knew their place and how to act in every situation, and if you got dealt a lower caste that was your own fault. There was little room for mercy in a place where everything was earned.

A HA!

Like a sunrise in her own mind, she could finally appreciate the full scope of the task at hand. It would be menial, much like everything was these days – but it will take her outside for a moment. OUTSIDE! The word almost tasted sweet in her mouth, and even the memory of it was better sustenance than anything mortal food could offer. Quickly getting up, she slopped down a few more spoonfuls. The food was still hot and it burnt her tongue as it went down, but she needed to make sure she was at least eating something in case the task didn't turn out as envisioned. She pondered leaving the bowl in front of her unattended, but she couldn't risk the Chef's wrath. Instead, she quickly moved up to the person closest to her – a heavyset man who was likely tall by Inartan standards. In this form they were all smaller than her, so she couldn't pay it much mind. Tapping the man on the shoulder with one hand, she'd use the other to pour the rest of her stew into his bowl. „Gift“ she'd say in her best accent, before moving towards the Avora and pushing a couple of other Inarta out of the way.

„I do it!“ she'd declare louder than normal, the height of her voice twice multiplied by both the rooms natural acoustics and the offbeat melody.

[Oresnya Cacao]

Oresnya hovered over her food like a vulture prepared to kill for the carrion it had found. A week had passed since her self-imposed starvation had ended, but she still hadn’t put on any weight. Leo had gotten the venom he had wanted to present to the Valintar as his contribution to the effort against the beast, and Oresnya had finally been able to eat again. But no matter how much food she stuffed into her belly, she always still felt hungry. Her ribs remained pressed up under her skin, and the tails of the bow of her silk top hung far too low. Every muscle was shrunken, weaker than it used to be, and every action took that much more effort. Her appearance was gaunt, not in the deathly sort of the way but in the way that reminded her of a starved dog, and like a starved dog, Oresnya was willing to fight for any scrap she found, any scrap that was given.

So when the Avora barged into the Kitchens, she lowered herself over her food, the glower she’d been giving everyone to keep them away growing even fiercer. Her gaze dropped to her food, and thoughts of fear of it being stolen and thoughts of hunger caused her canines to extend to their full length. Holding her spoon up to her mouth, she sank a fang into a large chunk of vegetable, letting her venom go to work. As it began to disintegrate, she heard the Avora calling for volunteers. They had to repeat the call several time before Oresnya could make sense of what they were asking. Only a few words were discernable for her still unpracticed ear. Chick and food.

She shook her head. If they were looking for her to give up her own meal time to provide for another, they were crazier than she had thought. By the number of times the Avora had to call for volunteers, Oresnya was sure everyone felt the same. That was, until someone chirped up excitedly in broken Nari that Oresnya could understand.

“I do it!”

Good. The person could have all the excitement they wanted, every bit of it they could handle. Oresnya certainly wasn’t going to be volunteering for anything and huddled over her stew, dropping her gaze to let anyone curious know she wasn’t interested. A spurt of curiosity rose in her, and she looked in the direction of the volunteer in time to see the woman push several Chiet out of her way to get to the Avora.

Only a brief glance was necessary to tell the Symenestra that the volunteer was no normal woman. The Inarta were not a tall people, but this woman would have been a comfortable fit in a room full of Akalak. She towered over everyone. Oresnya was certain if she was standing next to the woman, the volunteer would stand close to two feet taller than her. That wasn’t the only thing different. The Inarta were a beautiful people. Perhaps that was just Oresnya’s bias due to her connection to her sister Yora, but the Inarta’s beauty paled in comparison to the tall figure. Hers had an ethereal quality, otherworldly with a gnostic influence. And perhaps most mystical of all were the crystalline green horns that sprouted from the woman’s temple. If she hadn’t been so beautiful, Oresnya would have been terrified. It was most peoples’ way with things they didn’t understand.

Her gaze dropped quickly back to the slowly melting vegetable in her spoon as the Avoras’ eyes began to scan the gathered Chiet for more “volunteers.” They weren’t getting as many as they had hoped for, but that was what they got for coming during a meal time. Most of those who had hoped to present themselves before the chicks had probably already done so. Oresnya imagined most Inarta would jump at the opportunity to put themselves before an unbonded Wind Eagle, but as an outsider, she was certain no Eagle would even consider her for such a thing. She had no ambition for it anyhow. In Kalinor, she had lived a life suspended, but there was always a sense of control to it. On the wings of an eagle though, she imagined she would have no sense of calm or control. Powerless would be the feeling. Not that she was unfamiliar with that since she had arrived in the mountain city. Her other worry was that her foreign nature might make the mighty birds see her as part of the presented meal.

Despite Oresnya’s attempts to escape notice, she didn’t succeed in not sticking out of the crowd. It wasn’t long before an Avora stepped up next to her. Continuing to stare at her vegetable, Oresnya hoped that would get the higher caste member to leave. It didn’t. Eventually she had to admit that the Inarta wasn’t going anywhere until she acknowledged the person. Looking up, Oresnya met a not so pleasant smile.

“Hello, Widow. You look dressed for the occasion.”

Oresnya always dressed as well as she could, hoping that being presentable would at least keep her from gaining any further ire. Though not the fashion of choice in Wind Reach, her silk top was the envy of many who saw it, purely for the quality of its fabric. Ranekissra silk was hard to come by, and that a Chiet had it made many jealous. She had had to worm out of being forced to give it away several times already in the season and a half that she had been here. Those who didn’t want it themselves wanted to see it ruined.

“I not want scare Wind Eagles.” It was a weak argument, one she was certain wouldn’t work, but she had nothing else.

The Avora shook his head. “Nonsense. The Wind Eagles will be glad to see someone so well dressed.”

Oresnya looked back down at her food, hoping if she ignored him again he would leave her be. Angered by her refusal, the Inarta caught the lip of her bowl and began to slide it away. Oresnya’s hand shot out and grabbed the bowl, stopping it from sliding any farther.

Leaning in close, the Inarta hissed in Nari, “Eat it quick or lose it.”

With no choice, Oresnya gulped down the fluid in the stew and shoved the half-melted vegetable into her mouth. It wasn’t nearly enough digested, and she knew she’d regret the decision later. Leaving the rest of the solid chunks of stew where they were, she stood and made her way to the first volunteer’s side and decided to introduce herself while the Avora gathered the others they would need.

There was no use being bitter to everyone, so Oresnya put on the smile Yora had taught her, her fangs still half extended as she got the tall woman’s attention. “Hello. Call me Oresnya.”

She waited a moment for the woman to introduce herself, then commented. “You look like the only one happy to have their meal interrupted.”

What she had wanted to ask was what the woman was, but it seemed a rude question this early on. Her wandering eyes, however, betrayed her curiosity.

[Uerta]

Uerta had lost himself in work once again and thusly missed the normal eating hours for his caste. Not that he felt too bothered by it as he sat mostly alone near one of the walls and half listened to the talks around him. Most of the attention was on single bowl of food in front of him and he frowned slightly before picking up a piece of dried meat and starting to eat. There were few who approached him due apart from one or two younger ones that sunk down near the wall with him. Raising his head slightly to look at one of the older chiets moved near him and were about to speak…

“Don’t say anything, Chiet. This is my food. Unless you want to ask a avora for something.. Step back and leave me.” Uerta shot a quick, albeit angry, glance upwards with one eye before returning to his food. The other man stopped and let his mouth hang for a moment before nodding and leaving. A nod that uerta didn’t see but the sound of the man leaving was enough. It was little of a concern since most chiet would receive worse treatment for what might have happened. The meat tasted even more dry now… A deep frown spread over his lips before he pushed the food into his mouth and just set about to eating, letting his eyes sweep over the hall to try and think of something other than the taste. There were a few new faces, even some outsiders from the look of it. It’s be interesting to see how they would handle the life in the caves and the caste them.

And as if on cue a group of people burst in and demanded workers for something. It was almost funny how one of the new faces chirped out a loud “I do it!”, the voice seemingly came from a horned woman who stood quite tall over most of the people in the reach. Uerta couldn’t stop himself from mumbling out a low:
“Why would you be that tall…?” as he narrowed his eyes. A height like that probably came with its strengths but Uerta saw more deficits in being large and encumbersome. He shook his head and moved his gaze around the hall once more only to get stuck on another outsider who were far too well dressed for someone who knew the culture here. One of the Avora who came in earlier seemed to do something with her food and made her gulp whatever it was down quickly. A faint chuckle left Uerta’s lips after he had swallowed the last of the meat and he looked down at the half empty plate once more before pushing himself up and half tossing the bowl aside to one of the kids who looked hungry.
“Return the plate for me. The food is yours if you want it.”

Moving over to the line of volunteers he leisurely joined their ranks and crossed his arms. Seeing these outsiders do some work might be fun, and he was bored enough to join them.
“I’ll help.” He just stated to the other avora and nodded before listening to the woman introducing themselves. No attempt at pleasantries from his side yet though as he kept a half bored, half neutral expression locked on his face as he waited to be lead away from the location when they had enough people.
Should they ask him anything he’d give them simple answers such as:
“I am Uerta.”, “I am an Avora.” or “No I did not have my meal interrupted.”

[Comet]

As she pushed past them, a few of the Chiet might have even been willing to fight and argue had it been another who’d pushed them, but much like always when she was around, they just gossiped. It was always much too quick and quiet for her to make much of it, but she was certain she was the object of their sentences. This was one of things she’d come to hate about this place, about this body – rarely a private moment, rarely an honest conversation.
Despite the uncomfortable feeling, she couldn’t shake off the expectation that was gripping her from head to toe.
The Avora seemed unhappy with the numbers they’d gathered, as it was distinctly difficult to motivate the Chiet as they grasped their food. A few more pushes and prods at the nearby people only set of a regrettable chain of events.

As the pale creature neared her, she couldn’t help but express her curiosity. For the first time in a while, it was she that stared at someone. The woman’s pronounced fangs and pale complexion quickly betrayed her as the rumor of Wind Reach. Even the girl, who had been the subject of many a gossip, heard about the mysterious WIDOW. The name was whispered between the people in less than reverent tones She charmed and ensnared men, and spirited away women while finding time to eat the children, all in day’s work – all in all, quite an industrious creature according to the rumors. In the flesh, the creature – Oresnya wasn’t quite living up to her tales. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed upon closer inspection. Only then realizing she had been staring for some time, she pieced together the words of the willowy creature.

She laughed at both herself and the pale woman. The remarks about her meals were rich, coming from a supposed child consumer. “I would like to be called Sunset on the lakes today, Oresnya” she’d stick to Common as her best bet at communicating with non-Inarta “One can eat many things, friend” she’d mimic fangs around her lips and point back to the Symenestra “Much like I’ve heard about your strange appetites“ and then she’d pause “But, now that I see you – I find it hard to believe the rumors, you are not scary. You are just a stranger… like me”. Her smile would grow wide, almost grinning, as she was about to proclaim “Today, I’m going to eat…”

But her words were cut short by the all too familiar voice of Chef Davoid.

“ERVAL!” and then another “YES, YOU!” As a red haired woman with the ladle marched across the Communal Kitchens “What did I say about order in my kitchen?!” as she approached, she didn’t seem in a hurry, but Erval, the man Oresnya would quickly recognize as the one who bullied her in the first place, had gone all but pale. It seemed like he had knocked over someone’s food while in full swing of ‘volunteer recruitment’, and the event quickly reached the only ears that mattered. As she was approaching them, her mouth kept opening like the eye of the storm, but whatever curses she leveled at the Avora, weren’t intelligible to the Ethaefal. Tucking their tails, Avora took what they had at the moment and escorted everyone out in a hurry. It wasn’t nearly enough, but maybe they’d catch a straggler or two in the hallway.

OOC: Elath, the last line is another potential hook for you, if you decide to join us after all.