Solo But a rose in my teeth (Withering Rose)

[Darkalin Pinewood]

12th of Fall, 514 Night had fallen, and Darkalin's stomach rumbled. Yet, he simply didn't have the Mizas to buy supper tonight. He headed towards the Rose anyways, hoping that the scents may quell his hunger. He knew that his job with Kuvarahk was profitable, but he needed something that would keep coming in. Maybe..... Maybe their hiring at the Rose. What a novel idea. He thought, smiling, as now he had a bit more hope. As he entered into the familiar restaurant, he saw someone running from the kitchen in the back. A pot sailed past the mans head. "I'm never coming back to petching piece of Shyke Restaurant!" The man said as he exited the building. Now, such an occurrence was not normal, and Darkalin wondered why he had left, cursing like a sailor. I wonder... The jobs probably open! The young Sym thought, a large grin coming onto his face. He went towards the hostess, whom might have directed him towards the owner. "Hello, I'd like to get a job here, seeing as a position seems to have just opened. Can you direct me to the owner?" He asked the Hostess, a woman with shoulder length black hair, with pale skin, and brown eyes. She was about a foot taller than him, and had a calm voice. "You say your here for a job? Come with me."

[Darkalin Pinewood]

Darkalin followed the woman, thinking that she would lead him to her boss. She lead him through a shadowy hallway, lined with shadowy paintings, and candles that did not so much brighten the hallway, but exaggerate the shadows. And, with the candles and the shadows, it was harder to see then it would have been without. It was in some way depressing. He was met by a rather elegant stairway, that went in a spiral. Even as he climbed up, he felt that something was amiss. He could not hear any paper rustling, or jingling of money, or business related speaking. He could not hear much of anything, to be quite honest. "Are you sure your boss is here? He asked in a confused voice that only spoke of his uncertainty. "Why, of course. You were quite lucky to come when you did. She was just about to leave." She said, with a small smile touching her face. She opened the door to the room, and he saw a dimly lit room. There was a desk with pieces of paper and roses strewn across the surface. There was a high wooden seat behind it that was liberally cushioned. The woman walked slowly around the desk, and sat down with a certain authority. "Now, you say you would like to see the owner? Well, here you go...."

[Darkalin Pinewood]

Darkalin was surprised. The Hostess is the owner?! He must have shown his surprise on his face, because she laughed a laugh of amusement. He was sure that he had looked a bit foolish, but he continued as if nothing had happened. "As I said before, I saw the signs that a position had opened. Now, as it happens, I'm looking for a job. Might I ask, what was the..... gentleman's job?" She looked at the young Sym with a look of curiosity, mingled with faint amusement. "His job? Why, he washed dishes and moved boxes, and other menial tasks that someone has to do. It didn't pay well, but it was enough. If you really want the job, I'll just need to ask a few questions, okay? And as she said that, Dark grew oddly confident that the job was his. He was so sure, he didn't even think about how much, or how little it payed, or the sound of the job itself. All that mattered was getting the job. "Now, what is your name? Your age as well, please?" She asked in a way he couldn't refuse to answer, not with the looming threat that another will take it well he wasn't looking. "My name? Darkalin Pinewood. Age? 13." He said quickly, hoping to finish as fast as he could. "Okay dear. Now, what is your previous job experience?" She asked, and he still couldn't risk not answering. He told her that he worked for the wealthy Alchemist Kuvarahk, doing odd jobs, possibly going into something a bit bigger. But, he needed Miza's, but sadly didn't have enough to eat regularly. He was a bit desperate, he had to admit."Well, I'm satisfied. You may start tomorrow, at the 16th bell. Oh yes, I forgot to mention something..."

[Darkalin Pinewood]

Darkalin was sure that everything was accounted for, but, then again, he was feeling a bit off today. Its probably just the weather... He thought, then suddenly remembered! They had not as of yet discussed his pay. "Yes of course. I almost forgot that myself. I don't doubt that a job like this would be enough to feed me better, along with my pay coming from Kuvarahk." He said confidently. He had the job, he had a time frame, and the payment seemed almost to be diverting him from setting to work. "I think that 90-91 Gold rimmed Mizas sounds about right, yes." She said. For, it was not a question, but a statement. Sadly, I beleive you may have to start your shift immediately. I hope that doesn't inconvinence you too much." The woman told him with a voice that seemed oddly sad. "It is no inconvenience at all." He said, sauntering through the door. He soon set to work, scrubbing and wiping with a determined smile set like stone onto his face. He didn't really have anything else to occupy his time, and here, he was useful. He could smell the delicious scents coming from the rest of the kitchen, and could barely stand upright as the full force of his hunger came roaring back in. He turned around, and stared at the kitchen staff, working away. He sighed a sigh of one who hungered no longer for money, but for food.

[Darkalin Pinewood]

Darkalin stared at the immense pile of dishes still waiting to be cleaned even towards the 22nd bell. He quickly stretched his arms and fingers, picked up the towel and began to whittle away at the pile. He soon realized that this may be a good time to think about his life since he had left his father. I've made it quite a bit from being the son to a lumberjack. I now work for the owner of a thriving restaurant and a strange Alchemist, all in the city of beautiful illusions. There is much to explore and find and do and..... So much to regret. So much to remember, and so little time to do it in. He sighed, and reached for the next plate. By now he had made it methodically halfway through the pile. It was then that a human chef, just one of the many who worked here, came up to him, and gave him half a loaf of bread. Darkalin looked at him in surprise. "Th-Thank you sir." He stumbled, taking the bread slowly. "Don't mention it." The chef said, walking back to his oven. Darkalin looked at the bread for a while, before ripping into it, his fangs covering it with its sweet acid. It was the end of his shift. He had finished the dishes, brought a box of some sort of vegetable in, and cleaned the ovens. It had been a long day, but Darkalin regretted nothing. He had never really had much of a family of his own here in Alvadas, but here at the Withering rose, he was determined to find one. He would talk and laugh with the cooks, and would feast with them on the anniversary of the Valterrian with the everyone, and it would be happy. Ionu, dreams are like illusions. Please, mighty God of this great city, make my dreams a reality.

[Fable]

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