Open [Rearing Stallion] Cleaning Up Somebody Else's Mess (open)

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Morning of 89th of Winter, 514 Orin groaned as he surveyed the damage in front of him. He was standing out here with a broom and a cloth. He thought it was incredibly unfair that he was being forced to clean up after last night’s incident. Of course he had essentially volunteered. Although he had been pressured into it by Remi. She had given him her best pleading eyes while Kiveth stood disapprovingly behind her, arms crossed and glowering until Orin caved. Usually coming in to work early meant he could relax in the warmth and get a tasty treat. Or it let him experiment or get started on the work for the day. Today, though, it had meant he was roped into a task that he wasn’t in the least bit excited about. No one wanted to really talk about what had happened. Orin hadn’t left the kitchen, figuring it wasn’t his place to break up a brawl. He’d probably only have gotten knocked out or injured. However, they’d left behind quite a bit of debris. It was especially surprising considering that from all reports that Orin had heard, the fight had taken place mainly outside. Apparently all this was caused when bystanders had tried to get a better view. Or maybe more of a scuffle had broken out inside than anyone had realized. The most likely explanation was that when the knights were clearing a path to the combatants, they’d been none too careful on what was in their way. The reason wasn’t really important. Whatever it was, it had left Oren on clean up duty. It was annoying, but standing around trying to decide what had occurred wasn’t getting him anywhere, and after he finished up with this, he had his actual job to get to. And even though his boss had assigned him this task, that wouldn’t earn him any sympathy if he didn’t complete it in a timely manner. So he’d better get back to work. Orin leaned his broom against the wall and left the cloth on a table next to it that was still intact and looked relatively clean. Propping the door open, Orin tried not to shiver in the sudden draft The temperature of the room would plummet, but the dust and broken up furniture had to go somewhere. ”Well, there’s no time like the present” Orin with an atypical annoyance. This felt too much like drudgework for his comfort. But he didn’t want to give Rondo any more ammunition to use. He’d been call a shirker and a half-wit too many times already. Orin bent over and began tossing the ruined furniture pieces outside, starting a nice pile by the door. People could use them as firewood for all he cared. All of the benches and most of the tables had survived the night, but the chairs hadn’t been so lucky. As Orin picked up legs, backs and seats, some of them nearly whole and some of them reduced almost to kindling, Orin wondered how they had managed to get so destroyed so quickly.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Stable duty for a season. The squirrel was still trying to get his head over that rather extreme punishment.. all he did was punch someone who'd pulled a knife. A natural instinct; surely anyone else would have acted the same in his situation? Then again, everyone else wasn't a squire. Surely people had gone through worse than him and still managed to become what they were today, though. If they could change themselves, then so could he. The only way to make the change though, would be to face his punishment head-on, as well as everything he'd done. It was why Ser Iros stood beside the little Pycon.. towered over him would be a better term.. before the Rearing Stallion. He wasn't to enter any of the taverns unaccompanied by a knight anymore, after all.

"Encouraging to see that you're at least acting a little mature about the situation." Arch took the compliment in his stride and puffed his chest out a few inches more. At least his patron still had a little bit of hope left.. and that was enough for the squirrel to keep some too. "If only you could have done this before you ended up punching a civilian instead of turning and reporting it to the several other knights." There went his confidence.

"Look, can we just.. you know, stop talking about it for now?" As much as he hated even talking to the Akalak for fear of further punishment on the basis of 'backtalk' or some other minor offense pushing him over the limits of what was already a rather strained relationship, the sooner they both put that incident behind them the better they'd both be. Besides, there was already work starting. He could see someone tossing pieces of splintered wood out the open door - what looked to be chair legs and seats, though they were all pretty mashed up. There was only one fight that night that he knew of, meaning.. he could only assume it was all his fault.

As soon as he could, the squirrel stepped up to the man throwing the pieces around and tugged on one of the legs of his trousers like a small child. "Ahem, excuse me.." He'd barely managed to get a few words in before the Akalak stepped forwards, easily overshadowing the entrance to the door that barely came up to his forehead.. or would have, if he wasn't covered in shining platemail as per usual. It added a few more inches to the bottom and the top.. meaning he had to really stoop down just to be able to wedge himself in. "Excuse me. I'd like to offer the assistance of my squire." Formal and cordial as ever.

[Phaylix Whitevine]

~W I N T E R~

The Vanthan Assassin had fancied a walk, and he was going to take it. The events of the previous night had left him feeling heavy-headed and craving fresh air. He needed to clear her thoughts, sadly, without the use of alcohol. The repercussions of the brawl with Recluse and the thug had been they couldn't really go to any bar or tavern without the company of a knight, and she got double time at the mines.

Morwen almighty, that's unfair. She was just trying to protect the little Squire!

He let out a huff of air. She couldn't last, wouldn't last, in the mines. Big pickaxes and rough miners weren't the ideal surroundings for a little lady like herself. He looked to the woman he'd accompanied to the Rearing Stallion, Recluse. She had decided to tag along, wanting some company after the rough night in the Tank.

He turned a corner, pushing her way through the crowd of citizens looking to buy and sell their wares. It was easy; they were a whole head and a half taller than the bulk of it. On the horizon, the said tavern loomed. He huffed once more. They'd just walk by it, no other thought to it. As they neared it, Recluse seemed to become more bubbly and excited. Phaylix prayed she wouldn't do anything rash. As the two got closer and closer, she couldn't help but take a look at the bar. A man took splintered wood by the armful and chucked it from the establishment.

I hope we didn't cause that...

Recluse slowed her walk to look, whilst Phaylix was hoping she wouldn't stop for anything. He couldn't help but stop to tell the other Assassin to hurry. She seemed to be infatuated with the help. Recluse thought it was nice he had decided to clean her mess up. Or, was forced to clean it up.

The Symenestra was prepared to walk off once more, to Phaylix's pleasure, probably to An Elegant Weave to get some new gear, when a blue-skinned man in Syliran Order garb had stopped to speak to the man. Just to the right of the Knight, obviously a Knight, was the Squire!

A smile appeared on her lips, a faint one. She would make up to the Squire in the presence of the Knight, so as not to overstep the boundaries placed on her by the order. Recluse strode over to the small group, her smile growing larger and larger. Phaylix tried to stop her, but she slipped from his weak grasp.

"Squire Squirrel! Umm... I'd like to apologize for last night." She looked to the Akalak knight. "I hope I'm not out of line being here, Ser. If we can, me and my friend can also volunteer!" she added brightly.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Orin was making pretty good progress when he felt a tug on his leg and heard a voice speak up from the floor. He glanced up and saw a blue-skinned man standing in the doorway. He looked like he could’ve been Aren’s brother. At least, Orin had to assume they were related in some way, shape, or form. Which made Orin realize he never had been told what, exactly, Aren was. The man was in full armor so Orin could only assume he was a knight. He towered over Orin. Orin immediately straightened up and clasped his hands in front of his body. Orin spoke as quickly as he could ”I’m so sorry sir I didn’t see you standing there. Is there anything I can get you or is there someone in particular…” As fast as he was the knight cut Orin off with a polite, but firm tone. His voice was different from the one Orin heard earlier but he wasn’t given much time to dwell on it. Squire? What squire? Orin wasn’t one to question a knight but as far as Orin could tell the two of them were the only ones in the room. Maybe the squire was outside and was simply waiting for Orin’s invitation. Remembering the strange sensation from earlier, Orin glanced down. What he saw there made his eyes widen. He dropped the chair back he was holding and swallowed down a shriek. He didn’t want Rondo or Remi coming out here. If they discovered Orin had let a squirrel into the building, they would probably flay him alive. Orin was shocked that this one was even active. He had thought they hibernated during the winter, but apparently that wasn’t true of all of them. Orin pointed a shaking finger at the rodent as he looked at the knight with eyes full of entreaty. ”Th-there’s a sq-squirrel in here! You’ve gotta help me get rid of it.” Orin kicked at the squirrel but missed as he was simultaneously trying to stumble towards the broom with his other foot. Grabbing it in one hand Orin spun. He used his momentum to strike at the last place he had seen the squirrel. He would sweep it out the door if he had to. However, mid-swing Orin noticed something odd. The squirrel’s fur didn’t look like, well, fur. It looked like clay and Orin suddenly realized his mistake. He twisted the broom in his hands so it slammed into the floor instead of the tiny squire before him. It made a large smacking sound and Orin winced. Dropping the broom to clatter, Orin quickly called to the kitchen, ”Everything’s all right out here, sorry about the noise just moving some things around.” He desperately didn’t want either of the two cooks to come out here to investigate. Dropping to one knee to put himself closer to the squirrels level. Looking frantically between the squire and his master, Orin didn’t know what to do. ”Oh gosh I’m terribly sorry about that, y’see I thought that you were a real squirrel and I panicked and I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, please forgive me it was a huge misunderstanding. I totally understand if you no longer want to help me out, just please don’t put me in the Tank or something, I’ll do anything.” Orin’s words just came tumbling out and realizing he was rambling in front not one, but two members of the Syliran Order, Orin shut his mouth. Taking a deep, calming breath Orin tried to collect his scattered nerves. Truth be told, an extra pair of hands, or, rather, paws would make his job much simpler. Although Orin doubted the squire could handle that much weight, so who knew how helpful he would be. Maybe Orin could tie a rag to his tail and have him run across the floor really fast to clean up the dust and the wood chips. Of course, all this was assuming they didn’t slap irons on him for attacking a squire even if it was, in Orin’s eyes an honest mistake, if a rather stupid one. But the detail was remarkable and Orin wasn’t that observant or intelligent at the best of times. Add in the visit of the knight and it was understandable. Orin just hoped that in the eyes of the knight it was forgiven. Still feeling as if he was teetering on the edge of a chasm, where just one wrong word or action would send him plummeting downwards, Orin stood up. Bowing his head in shame and to hide his blush, Orin tried to speak coherently. ”I apologize for that, sir. I don’t know what came over me and I understand if repercussions of some kind need to be issued. I submit myself to your judgment.” A sick feeling was growing in the pit of his stomach, but Orin plunged forward. He was afraid if he didn’t his voice would fail him completely. ”If somehow you can forgive my error, I would gladly accept the aid of your squire.” As a rushed afterthought, Orin added, ”Oh! And my name’s Orin Fenix, I’m the assistant chef and general boy of all help here. If you’d like to speak to one of the other chefs or the owner, I’d be happy to go fetch them for you.” Orin hoped he wasn’t trembling too badly under the knight’s gaze. Orin was so wrapped up in trying to smooth everything over with the knight that he completely failed to notice the approach of a young looking woman until she spoke up. She had long black hair, pale skin, amethyst eyes and a frail build. Orin was already speechless after his debacle regarding the knight and the squire, and to have this happen on top of it was almost more than he could handle. All of it was in the knight’s hands at this point though, so Orin waited for the axe to fall. If I get out of this alive I’m going to keep the damn door closed next time I’m cleaning up. Who is going to show up next? Orin thought rather fervently.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Well, he wasn't expecting a warm welcome; being partially responsible for all the destruction that had wrecked the Stallion in so many more ways than he'd previously thought, perhaps getting a lot of shouting and rebuking was well within reasonable bounds. When a man's foot swung at his head and nearly tore it clean off his shoulders, however.. well, that was taking it a little too far. Archailist struggled to reel in the small part of his nexus ready to return in kind and punch a hole through the man's ankle as he ducked and rolled out of the way of a swing that never even came close. "Hey! You're lucky I don't--"

Oh. Yes. Iros still stood there, without a muscle budged to help or hinder. Typical. Just waiting for everything to blow over. Sometimes it was difficult to tell whether the Akalak even cared for the personal well-being of his own squire. Still, he wouldn't push himself any deeper into a mess that he'd entirely brought down on himself. He held up a paw for the apologies and sucked it all in. "It's alright, we all make mistakes; I should know that more than anyone else." He couldn't hide the slight wince in his own voice when he said that. Mistakes were made to be learned from, but it didn't make them any less painful. "How about we just put all of this mess behind us for now and look at what's important, haha. I'm sure you and I will have plenty of other things to worry about while we clean up." He didn't turn his head but he could feel the slight approval of the man from high above; maybe even the slightest of nods in his general direction.

"That you will." The knight's words softened as he turned back over to Orin, sensing his embarrassment. "If you feel he deserves it, you're free to give him a few kicks. Though I don't think bringing any of the other owners will be needed.. my squire is just here to make up for his mistakes and learn their consequences.. at least, some of them." Really, the crimson man couldn't be hinting any less the true reason for his arrival, though whether it was intentional or not was still just barely ambiguous enough to stop the squirrel from drawing a definitive accusation to use later on when he'd eventually turn back and give the knight a solid kicking in revenge. "I can only hope he'll serve you well.. but for now, I'll be going to deal with other things." With that he turned on one heel and promptly stomped out, leaving the little squirrel stood there, watching him go. "I'll be back in a few bells to see how well he's done. Maybe if he does enough, he can come back to the dorms afterwards."

The petching shyke. "Errr... alright then. Guess we'd better get started." He clapped both paws together and immediately regretted it; made him sound far too eager to be cleaning a mess like this. "Where do you want me to start? Or do you want me to just work on a part, you work on a part.. like, righting tables, cleaning dirt.. uhm." He had no clue how to clean up. Being five inches tall had its disadvantages; for example, he couldn't actually move a chair, or a table. Petch, he couldn't even open a door. This was going to be a lot more difficult than it'd seemed at first glance. The longer he stood there, staring at the Stallion... the larger and larger it seemed.
oocJust as a quick note to graders, since Phaylix retired immediately after making one post, we decided to just ignore his post and continue without it rather than abandon the thread.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin took a deep steadying breath as the Knight exited the tavern. His shoulders slumped on relief that the Knight accepted Orin's explanation that it had just been Orin being a complete idiot and not being malicious. It was just good the Syliran Order didn't have laws on the books against uncommon stupidity. I think I need to sit down for a moment. As Orin surveyed his surroundings though he noticed that there weren't any chairs in the vicinity that Orin would necessarily trust to hold his weight. So instead Orin just sank to the floor for a few ticks as he recovered. Luckily the fight had mostly stayed near the front doors and spilled into the street before too much damage could be done to the interior of the tavern. Still there were numerous cracked mugs that must have rolled off the table and many chairs had been overturned even if they weren't destroyed. Tables had been shoved out of the way into the wall as the patrons not only shoved to spectate but the Knights came in to break up the whole incident. There were food stains on the walls. Orin couldn't tell if they were old or new but if Orin was cleaning up anyway he might as well take care of those as well.

Conveniently being on the ground, even if the stained and pitted floorboards felt rough under Orin's hands, put Orin at a better angle to talk to his companion for the foreseeable future. "Again my apologies about before it's just, well, ever time we get a rodent in here there's a huge uproar, not that you're a rodent of course not that at all you just vaguely resemble, well, alright more than vaguely frankly if I wasn't looking for it I'd call you a squirrel. Oh gods is that rude to say?" Orin bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair. He had definitely gotten off on the wrong foot with the squire. Actually the Pycon Looked vaguely familiar although Orin might just be getting confused by the resemblance to a squirrel. It was also entirely possible that Orin had seen the squire around on patrol or something along those lines. As Orin was thinking about it he realized that he had no idea what the Pycons name was. Actually Orin had only ever seen a few Pycons and knew next to nothing about them. This might be the perfect opportunity to learn more. Orin stuck out his hand as if to shake the Pycons hand then hesitating realizing that it was probably completely impossible for that to happen. Shaking his head ruefully, Orin blushed slightly as he looked at the clay man. Well, clay squirrel although the Pycon did have a masculine sounding voice. "Well I was going to shake your hand but I suppose that's me being totally ignorant again ain't it?Maybe it would be possible to just start over? I for one would really appreciate it. As I said I'm Orin Fenix and I work here. And though I might not have shown it its a pleasure to meet you and I'm grateful for the help although I'm getting the impression that you'd really rather not be here. Ah if you'd like you can just, I don't know, sit around and watch. It's the least I can do in return for trying to stomp you. Again I'm a dolt." Covering his face with his hands Orin in a sad attempt to cover up his humiliation, Orin stood up.

Orin should make a solid plan before actually getting into the work itself. It probably made sense to go from bigger to smaller since chances were there would be quite a few more smaller mishaps while trying to deal with the bigger objects. Resolutely turning to the nearest table Orin placed his hands on both ends and braced himself before giving a mighty heavy to lift the heavy oak off the ground. He staggered a few steps, muscles in his arms screaming in protest. He finally managed to relocate it to where Orin remembered a table used to be and essentially dropped it down. Whoever had been shoving the tables around was evidently significantly stronger than Orin. Or maybe pushing it across the ground was simpler than picking it up but Orin didn't want to scratch the floor unless he had to. This work would go much more quickly if Orin had some assistance. But Ser Kevith only had one arm and Rondo would never stoop to manual labor. And Orin would be shocked if the squire, being the size he was, would be much help in moving heavy objects about.

Eying the Pycon guiltily as if the squire could somehow hear Orin's thoughts Orin figured at least trying to engage him in conversation was only polite. Also Orin's curiosity wouldn't let him pass up a chance to learn something new, especially about a race as mysterious and exciting as a Pycon. Also, Orin couldn't keep referring to him as the Pycon or the squire. "So I don't remember if I caught your name or not. And I know I said you didn't need to deal with this but I would never turn away a helping hand. But and again this is awfully ignorant of me but I really don't know anything about Pycons, or you for that matter." Orin flushed again but plunged on gamely. "So I guess start small and work my way up. With the questions I mean, don't feel any pressure to answer if you don't want to." Orin moved to the next table with a groan. However the clean-up efforts could wait a few chimes while Orin got some answers or maybe just chatted with the stranger.

It would probably be good to find out whether the squire could even make a dent on the mess of the tavern. Grabbing a few cloths from where Orin had left them earlier Orin squatted down and held one out to the Pycon. "So first do you have any idea how the two of us should handle this? I mean I was thinking you could deal with the spills and the debris from the broken objects and I'll deal with the tables and chairs but if you're strong enough I'd really rather not. I mean squires do strength training right? I just don't know how strong Pycons are in general. And is it true you can change shapes? I'd heard that but it just seems so fantastic to me! Are there a lot of Pycons that become squires? And how'd you get involved in the Order. And I ask this of all the squires I meet even though I never know the person but who is your patron? Oh well I guess it was that man from earlier wasn't it?As you've probably guessed I'm not the most perspective of people. If my rambling is bothering you I can try to keep my mouth shut." Of course Orin didn't know how well he would succeed in that endeavor. In general if it popped into Orin's head it inevitably popped out of Orin's mouth.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

The sooner they stopped talking and just got to work, the sooner they could finish; the sooner they finished, the sooner Arch could turn tail and be done with this shyke already. Just as Orin wished to forget their misunderstandings, Archailist hoped to forget everything he'd done over the last few days. The arguments, the fighting, the punishments.. all of it, really. The more the assistant chef.. Orin, that was the name.. kept apologizing and almost grovelling the more frustrated the Pycon became. "I already told you, it's fine. I understand. It's a common mistake and you shouldn't feel so upset because of it." Even with Iros gone, he didn't dare shout and start making a scene just out of his annoyance. All he needed to do was settle everything down and smooth it out.. if that was even possible at the moment.

Apparently not. It seemed like Orin was just going to end up throwing words with no room between them to even speak. "I would too--" he tried to agree, hoping that they could move on from whatever misunderstandings they'd gone through, but already the cook was cutting him off mid-sentence and rushing ahead with all the reintroductions and assumptions that just washed away the Pycon's train of thought like a tsunami, leaving him struggling for words. "Actually, I.. hold on, I thought we were going to put this.. never mind." He'd lost the will to even try and make sense of what train of thought Orin's mind was on.. just wait for it to arrive at the next station.

"Alright, well. I think we should forget all of that stuff right now. I'm here to help, so.. let's focus on that for now, shall we?" Hopefully all of 'that stuff' would include the fact that Orin was spot-on in thinking that Arch didn't want to be here. He seriously didn't, anywhere else would be better at the moment. Partially because he really didn't know how he was supposed to have a conversation with the cook.. partially because even being in the Stallion brought back bad memories of his monumentous petch-up. How was he actually supposed to help if even the cook was able to lift up tables and move them along.. Arch would be lucky if he managed to keep a plate in the air for more than a few ticks. Some of the shards were bigger than his entire body.

Still, Orin was getting to work. Arch should as well. Picking out one of the shattered pieces of pottery lying not too far away on the ground, he heaved it up over one shoulder and struggled to stumble forwards with it... wait, where was he going? He didn't even know where to put all the rubbish. "Uhm, sorry to interr--" Too late, Orin was already at it. Maybe Arch needed to speak up a little more if he was going to make himself heard; being as small as he was, he didn't exactly have a naturally loud voice.

"Oh, yes." As a matter of fact, Iros had forgotten that part in their introduction. "My name is Archailist and frankly I'd be surprised if you did know anything." It'd mean that a complete stranger working as a cook would know more about Pycons than his own patron, who'd known him for at least two seasons by now. At least. Which meant, here came the questions. Heck, Arch had questions as well.. like where the petch he was supposed to be putting these shards? They weren't exactly light.. well, not for him any way. The one on his back was probably proportionately the same size of one of the tables.

But it looked like he'd be holding it for a while. The stream was just unending, he could just about fit in a few words before the next question would appear at random. "That sounds like a good plan." Unwittingly the squirrel had even begun that before they'd come to the agreement. "I have very limited strength." Unfortunately he couldn't hold the same strength as a regular person.. not unless he was going to end up the same size as one, at the very least. "Yeah, we can change shapes." He'd not done it in a while but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to do it again when the time felt right to do so.. or whenever he needed to. "Not many." Why would Pycons become squires if they were just going to end up underestimated by all the other members for their obvious differences?

A deep breath before he begun yet again. Sweet Sylir the questions just kept on coming. "Happened at a young age." He didn't have time to elaborate before the next question so he could only hope that was enough. "You just saw my patron, Ser Iros." How the petch could anyone miss him. Just as soon as he'd given the answer, the rambling went on again and he answered his own petching question. If the Pycon had the ability to roll his eyes in their sockets, he would have done so more times than he could count by this point. At least it seemed to be calming. Seemed to be.

Not for long. "Well I think it's fantastic that you're showing so much interest in my race and me as a person but if you'd like to TELL ME WHERE TO PUT THE PETCHING PIECES OF SHYKE, I'D BE VERY PETCHING APPRECIATIVE." He didn't realize what was coming out of his mouth until it'd just come out; he could only guess he'd just had an Orin moment and said the first things that came from his head. "Ahem. Sorry about that." Hopefully he'd not alerted any of the other cooks to their distress; it'd be quite difficult trying to explain himself to them and to Iros when the Akalak eventually returned to see his 'progress'. His arms were burning from the effort of just holding the piece of pottery for a little bit longer and this was barely one piece, held up for.. shyke, chimes? Bells? He couldn't tell, time as a concept just seemed to vanish under the endless waves of questions and other shyke constantly spewing from the cook's mouth...

[Orin Fenix]

As Orin chattered away he did note that the Pycon, Archailist, seemed to have trouble keeping up with Orin's rapidfire questioning. However what few responses Archailist managed to slip in edgewise, probably on those few occasions when Orin actually stopped to take a breath or even the even rarer times when Orin actually ran out of words, just served to pique Orin's curiosity further. Pycons did indeed change shapes and Orin would have asked more about how and why that happened but the flow of conversation that Orin himself was directing carried them far past that point before Orin could catch himself. Archailist had apparently joined the Order fairly young. That caused Orin to realize that he had no idea what a Pycon considered to be childhood or how quickly they developed or even how long they lived. And Orin was mixed with satisfaction and a hint of embarrassment that he'd correctly determined that Ser Iros was Archailist's patron even if it shouldn't really have been a mystery in the first place. Orin was just taking a quick breather before launching into his next series of inquiries when the squire almost literally exploded.

At least, his words did and Orin fell back a pace, startled. Orin curbed his first impulse to apologize profusely realizing that more words would likely just make this entire situation first. So Orin hung his head shamefully for a moment, then hesitantly reached forward, bending almost in half, and plucked the pottery shard from Archailist's grasp. At least Orin knew about the relative strength of Pycons, since this broken piece wasn't at all a burden to Orin yet apparently had been quite a large one for Archailist. Taking it over to the corner Orin tossed it into a bucket where a few such other shards and broken bits already lay. Practically biting his tongue to prevent any errant words from escaping Orin went back to his table and heaved it up and over the distance to its rightful home. Grunting slightly with the effort Orin finally wrestled it into place. His arms were burning a bit so Orin shook them out cautiously. He didn't want to attempt another table for a while now, so instead Orin went over to the broom that now waited leaning against the wall. Orin took it in his hands and began sweeping debris into a single pile near the bucket. When he had a significant amount, Orin scooped up a handful, carefully examining it for splinters and jagged edges first, picking up such items one at a time to prevent injury.

When a significant amount of time had passed, at least in Orin's mind, and more importantly Orin had gained control of his errant tongue and wayward lips, Orin finally spoke up. He made certain to keep his voice slow and steady and his words reasonable. And he even went so far to pitch his voice lower and what Orin hoped was soothing. Mostly, Orin was doing everything in his power to prevent his next few sentences to have a hint of annoyance. "Perhaps it would be best if you took over here. Since you have a far better idea of your abilities and what you can and cannot do than I could ever hope to." Orin was surprised to discover that if he made a conscious effort and focused he could actually be fairly coherent. The issue was that Orin usually didn't pay attention. Maybe it would be wise for him to start.

However the notion Orin suggested wasn't a bad one. Knights were supposed to take charge in a crisis. While this wasn't at all a crisis Knights still led teams or took control of projects all the time. Presumably the same was true of Archailist. And Orin couldn't issue the squire orders that would result in Orin being told it couldn't be done. Especially if Archailist reacted as vehemently as he had before. So while it rankled to be bossed about in his own place of employment, especially from someone who wasn't actually Orin's boss and someone who Orin had a sneaking suspicion was partially responsible for the situation in the first place, Orin subsided. At least he had practice taking orders from someone highly irritable and who Orin disliked. It would probably serve him well today.

OOCSorry it's a bit short. I hope I gave you enough to go off of

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

For a moment, Arch was genuinely apologetic; he didn't mean to harm the boy's feelings.. but damn, it was just becoming too much, all the damn questions at the most inopportune moment imaginable! So no, he wasn't sorry. A little embarrassed when he noticed how easily Orin plucked the shard from his grasp and tossed it away with only two fingers pinching it, where the Pycon had required both arms and most of his back to heave the mighty slab. Times like these, he hated being a Pycon.. he hated just being around humans, being constantly reminded just how much they could have done and how easily they performed tasks that would take at least ten Pycons, if not considerably more.

There was no escaping this overwhelming sense of insecurity and inadequacy that left him rather self-absorbed as Orin returned to pushing around the tables and chairs.. while Arch struggled to shift the pieces of pottery around the floor one at a time, since the brushes and other 'normal' things were far too large to be handled by himself. "Hmm? You think I should take charge of what, cleaning up?" Normally those who took charge actually got involved themselves rather than standing from some high chair and commanding everyone else to do stuff for them. "Just because I know what I can do by myself doesn't mean that I know what everyone else is good at as well.. I don't have experience cleaning up places like this." Another piece of what he could only assume had once been a plate was tossed into the bin with the other shards. "Hold on."

He stopped mid-stride back towards the little spot of fallen crockery and turned back to Orin with a creased brow. "Why are you the only one cleaning up this place?" Sure, it wasn't that bad.. he supposed.. but it was still quite a lot for one assistant cook to handle by himself, regardless of whether or not he had a Pycon by his side to help. "Where are the other cooks? The other people running this place, huh?" True enough, he had no place to question how they chose to run the Stallion.. the only reason he was inside it right now without the watchful eye of his patron was because he was just there to clean up the mess he'd created as a form of apology.

But didn't that mean he had nothing to lose? If he got kicked out, he wouldn't have to do any work.. and if he wasn't kicked out, then he'd have more people to work with. Deep breath, Arch. "Where are the other guys, are they in the kitchens or somewhere?" He had no clue how to get around but surely Orin did; the squirrel wheeled around on one heel and strode off in the opposite direction of the entrance, hazarding a guess that the next room had to be somewhere nearby. "You'd think this place would have cleaning staff or something, at the very least.. this stuff may be my fault but they can't just rely on squires to fix up their business whenever a little fight breaks out.." He may be muttering without thinking about his words, but they were nothing more than mutters dropped under his voice.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin let out his breath in a little huff of annoyance. It was, indeed just the two of them and if Orin wasn’t know incredibly nervous about setting the squire off again then he already would’ve made quite the inroads into the mess. ”Well, do you see anything else you could be taking charge of here?” Orin muttered a little cattily, then immediately flushed. He just hoped that Pycon hearing wasn’t very good. That had been a terrible slip of the tongue especially since Orin was trying not to antagonize Archailist. Clearly, this cleaning was going to be a mental as well as a physical strain for Orin and he longed for the safety the kitchen provided. However, going in there would result in Orin getting a severe reprimand. And then Orin would still have to deal with the common room and he’d have earned his bosses’ wrath along with it. So Orin was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either his colleagues would be angry or Orin ran the risk of pissing off the Order. Unless, somehow, everything magically started going right. Since that was as likely as Rondo suddenly declaring Orin his adopted son. Which was to say, never, in a million year, was it going to happen.

Orin cleared his throat guiltily after his earlier mishap and started to explain The Rearing Stallion’s staff situation. ”I’m afraid I’m all you’ve got to work with. The owner, Ser Kevith, is a former Knight but he lost an arm, y’see, so he can’t really be of much use. Remi, his wife, is a gem but she needs to be in the kitchen to keep an eye on the head chef, Rondo. Rondo theoretically could but I’d expect snow at midsummer before Rondo lifting a finger in manual labor. Just, don’t tell him I said that please.” Orin made sure to speak almost painstakingly slowly. It was better that than the alternative which had clearly not gone over well with Archailist at all. And when he insulted Rondo Orin dropped his voice to a near whisper. ”Kevith and Remi’s got a son but he’s off with the pages today and would be too young for this anyway. And the barmaids won’t come in until their shift which is too late.” The other employees were the same as the barmaids typically, or they kept more unusual hours. Even if they had been there most of them would have been spectacularly unsuited for this task. It was moot point since there was only Orin and Archailist here.

Orin was a little shocked at how quickly his old habits were creeping back. Perhaps dormant would’ve been a more appropriate word than old. He’d long ago developed a series of defensive habits when in the presence of someone who could either hurt him, was in a position of authority, or Orin was afraid for his life. It made him look like an idiot but in Orin’s mind that was better than the alternative. He averted his gaze, hunched his shoulders, and spoke slowly as if he wasn’t that sharp in the head. That last one even Orin would admit wasn’t much of a stretch. Still, taking advantage of his native lack of intelligence at least showed that Orin had a modicum of self-preservation or at least a bit of cunning. Not that Orin actually thought of it in those terms. Mostly, Orin just tried not to make scenes. Probably because he did actually end up starting incidents so he tried to make up for it the rest of the time. Orin didn’t mind playing the dumb muscle to Archailist’s questionable brilliance if that’s what it took to soothe the squire’s ruffled feathers.

OOCSorry it's a bit short. I'm tired. Will try to give you more next time.