Closed [Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Orin's called in to cover at the Laviku's Secret

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Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Orin Fenix on July 22nd, 2017, 11:41 am

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Valour looked frankly terrified -- Of me? the chef thought incredulously -- and her eyes had grown into a deep shade of blue. Whatever was going on here went beyond what Orin had imagined. The girl clearly had been through something traumatic. Orin recognized the haunted look in her expressive, many-hued eyes. It was one he'd worn many times, one that he'd learned to disguise over the years as any sign of Orin’s emotions would send his father into a rage. The chef didn't know what had caused Valour to look so haunted, but considering Orin’s own history and what caused him to break down in this sort of way, it must have been far from pleasant.

Orin didn't know what to do. He didn't think that touching her would help the issue although his heart longed to give her a hug, to tell it everything would be fine, and that Orin would help her with whatever had been plaguing her. However, seeing as at least part of her fear seemed to be stemming from Orin himself, he figured that might not be the best idea at this time. Still, it took all of the chef’s willpower simply to stand there and listen. He'd couldn't move until she'd finally calmed down enough to give the chef an answer.

Based on Valour’s reaction, his guesses hadn't been anywhere near the mark. Orin’s mind was hyperactive, attempting to come up with alternative explanations for the oddity regarding Valour’s eyes. Unfortunately, the chef couldn't come up with anything. This bothered Orin, more than it probably should have. The chef liked to considered himself fairly well informed, even if he wasn't as well read or well traveled as he liked. The girl was growing paler which only accentuated the yellow in her eyes. Orin couldn't believe he'd missed noticing that her eyes would and did change color periodically.

When she finally explained why her eyes were shifting as they did, though, Orin was more confused than ever. Orin had never heard of or met a Vantha before, but apparently their eye color changed because of their race. Orin couldn't begin to think of a single reason why this would be causing so much distress. As Valour’s became a deep blue, however, and started glittering with unshed tears, Orin saw himself after his father’s death, adrift and alone with no one in the world to stand by him. He would have given anything at that point simply for a friend or just someone to talk to, and he'd never gotten either. It was too much for the chef, and he broke his stillness, reaching out his right hand incredibly slowly, and placing it on Valour’s left shoulder. He gave her a comforting squeeze. “Please. Tell me the source of your woes. I promise I want to help.” Orin put as much kindness as he could into those words, while also infusing them with a firm tone that wouldn't accept a lie or a half truth. Whoever had done something to cause this reaction in this child would have Orin to answer to. The chef stood patiently and waited for a response.

However, not long after, Orin could hear a voice calling for him. “Master Fenix! We got a problem out here.”

Orin cursed internally. Of course there would be something wrong in the kitchen right now. Glancing at Valour Orin considered how best to proceed. “I'll be out in a few ticks,” he bellowed back, before lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I'll be back soon. Take some deep breaths. I'll handle whatever kitchen crisis this is and come right back.” Orin was about to head off before realizing there was one important detail he should add. “I'm not going to let anyone in here unless you want me to.” With that the chef went to the front of the pantry to see what was going on. Finding one of the waiters there, Orin crossed his arms across his chest. “What happened?”

The waiter looked annoyed. “Some customer is declaring they won't eat seafood.”

Orin groaned. Every meal at every restaurant had one such customer, but in all his years of work Orin had never been able to overcome the anger he felt about them. “Of all the stupid, ridiculous...why even come to a seafood restaurant if you don't like seafood?” It was baffling to the chef. Orin took his own advice from earlier and took some deep breaths. “I'll handle it. Tell him his meal is on its way.” As the waiter nodded and began to leave, Orin called out, “Oh and have his wine glass refilled. Repeatedly.” Maybe if the diner got drunk enough it would forestall any more crises.

Making his way back into the pantry, Orin made a beeline for the non-fish meats. Passing Valour, Orin reassured her, “I'm almost done, we just have a demanding customer to sort out.” Grabbing a steak, Orin practically ran out of the pantry and to the cook handling the meats. “Here. Grill this up please. It's for the squeaky wheel.” They both grinned at this reference before the other chef took the steak from Orin and started dealing with it.

That problem solved for now, Orin headed back to his other problem. On his sort jaunt through the kitchen the chef had decided that maybe sharing a bit of his own past would help Valour feel comfortable sharing hers. It would be painful, like tearing off a bandage, but Orin would endure it if it meant that Valour trusted him. Arriving back at the girl’s side, Orin cleared his throat. “Let me tell you a story.”

“I'm not from around these parts. No I grew up in a place called the Mithryn Outpost. It's a farming community that supports the fortress city of Syliras. The city is held and made safe by the Syliran order, who are knights that follow the teachings of Sylir, god of peace and civilization. But they are more concerned with consolidating their power and maintaining the appearance of power than actually spreading peace and civilization. So this is the world I was born into. My mother died having me and it broke my father. He blamed me for her loss, and made my childhood a living nightmare, abusing me in every way you could think of.” Orin’s voice was curiously detached, as if he was telling someone's else’s tale. It was the only way he could speak about it though.

“I hated him and loved him equally strongly. The Order, of course, didn't care about a single child of the Outpost, as long as it didn't spill over outside of our home. So this continued for many years. Until I was thirteen, in fact, when my father burned down our house in a drunken stupor.” Having reached the end of his recounting, although there was more history in his life, Orin felt a tightness in his chest. Even after all this time it hurt, more than he could say. The chef had long years of practice, though, at suppressing that particular emotion. “I tell you all because I made a vow never to let another child suffer as I did, for whatever reason. So, please, tell me what's wrong. You can trust me.”
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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Valour Skyglow on July 22nd, 2017, 4:53 pm

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Orin’s following expression was one of disbelief and confusion- he seemed to truly not know of the Vantha people. It was a surprise to her, considering that most probably knew them at this point. The chef seemed to be pondering before he requested she tell him the cause of her escalating fear and sadness. The man also offered a comforting squeeze, one that resulted in an instinctive flinch on her end. He had no clue how much she longed to relate to someone, to cry and sob in a trusted person’s presence, to be vulnerable without worrying about her safety. She felt the need to express her emotions because that was what she had grown up doing. She was accustomed to being around her family for majority of her days- constantly working beside them and conversing with them. The result was her astonishment at the troubles of being alone. At first, she had felt it would be easy to adapt to, and for a while it had been. Unfortunately for her, she hadn’t taken into consideration the possibility of getting into a fatal predicament, and frankly she hadn’t thought that she would feel the need to express her fears. The current scenario had proved her previous thought process otherwise; she did indeed need someone to talk to.

As she debated this, Orin was called out of the pantry due to an issue with a customer. A breath of relief escaped her lips as he dismissed himself briefly, and promised that nobody would be a bother. Valour took a few steps backwards, resting her body against one of the metal shelves that held a few liquids. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed as she used a single hand to brush away the tears that had yet to fall. While the blue of her irises was still prominent, the salty liquid had been thoroughly wiped off. As much as her thoughts were clouded with paranoia, a part of her was focused on her job. She didn’t want to be useless, however she knew that in her current state, working would be an attempt that guaranteed failure.

She breathed in and out, calming her nerves. She then considered the possible outcomes of telling Orin. She knew that he would eventually find out, so hiding it was quite pointless. However, if she told him now, and he was not the person he appeared to be, then things would end badly on her part. On the other hand, he knew that she worked here, so upon finding out, he could venture to Laviku’s Secret. The whole ordeal could either end spectacularly, or end Valour.
”But he doesn’t seem like that kind of person- he seems nice, right?” She questioned herself, her lower lip quivering.

Orin had walked by and assured her he’d be back soon, and after a few moments, he was. He hadn’t asked her to tell him her issue, instead he began telling her a story. The story was about him and his life as a child. She listened attentively, her sadness for his terrifying past nearing the dark blue of her eyes to an almost ebony pigment. She had never endured abuse, it was something she knew she would never be able to handle and something she dreaded. Then again, her current predicament was one she never thought she would ever have to deal with. Despite these relating thoughts, she listened while her eyes grew more and more anxious. As he spoke of his house burning down due to his father’s drunken state, she was taken aback. How could someone ever live that down? His father must have been a serious alcoholic. Orin’s past was one completely opposite to hers; she had lived a very cliché Vantha life, one that consisted of living comfortably with her entire family. She had been close with all of them, which is what made her knowledge of their deaths all the more horrific.

When Orin’s story came to a close, he proceeded to comfort and assure her. He didn’t seem like a man who would slaughter a child on the spot, but rather one who would defend and protect. Still, she was uneasy, though felt it be fair to explain her story since he had given her an insight to his.
”I never. . . really had family problems. I was close with all my relatives, I loved my mother and father more than you could imagine.” She inhaled a sharp breath, her chest heavy with the bittersweet emotions. Before continuing, she shrank down against the metallic shelves, her body lowering to the ground. She felt light-headed whenever thinking of the matter, and so vocalizing it felt even worse. ”I left Avanthal – where we Vantha live – at fourteen. I did not want to stay there, I wanted to have adventures and live a life that I would be satisfied with.” She made a face at the next sentence, ”Vantha’s age of maturity is sixteen, so that was when my parents intended on marrying me to a suitor, which added to my thirst for wanting something different.” Valour had cherished both her mother and father, and had even agreed to the marriage. However, as she neared the age, she decided she wanted otherwise.
”My mother and father supported me and my decision to leave- they let me go without any notable quarrel. But I promised them I’d return; I could never forget them, you know?” She blinked quickly, tears welling up within her deep, dark eyes. The blue color went wild as it rushed from pale to dark, and back again.
”I left and came here, to Riverfall. I arrived about ten days ago, I think, and everything was completely fine until. . . u-u-unt-til.” She was shaking now, her sweaty palms working to tightly grasp her knees against her chest. The position was a form of cowardice, fear and vulnerability all combined into one.

She finally looked up at Orin, her body rocking back and forth as she released meager sniffles. ”Until I found out Vanthas have a bounty on their head. A-and it’s all b-b-because Morwen doesn’t want to bring winter around, s-s-so the Vantha’s are being slaughtered for it.” She inhaled a shaky breath, the time bomb that lay at the pit of her stomach emitting its last tick before exploding.
”Th-that means my family and friends are probably dead, and I’m never going to see them again. If anyone in Riverfall knows I’m a Vantha, they’ll kill me for the mizas. People are crazy, they’re greedy and they just want someone to blame. It’s all because we worship Morwen, but it’s not fair!” She was crying silently, covering her face with her huddled legs. She barely knew Orin, yet she was revealing everything that ruined her. Who knew? Maybe he’d kill her on the spot, maybe he wouldn’t. Frankly, her current mentality was focused on calming the constant sniffles and the endless tears.

After a few moments of breathing in and out repeatedly, her sobbing quieted down until it became inaudible. The flurry of intensities in her eyes had stilled to a single, deep shade of blue. Her body no longer rocked back and forth, but rather stayed put. Valour released the tight grip she had on her knees, and carefully took a peak at the chef. She was unsure of how he would react, and was hoping that her assumptions would be wrong.
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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Orin Fenix on July 22nd, 2017, 6:45 pm

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Valour seemed to be greatly affected by the tale Orin spun, and her eyes grew darker and darker as time passed. Orin felt his own vision clouded by tears that he blinked away. He could only get through telling his life’s history every once in awhile without turning into a complete wreck. So he only revealed his own sorrows for a very good cause. The sheer terror and sadness that Valour was radiating was causing every protective instinct the chef had to surge. Even if the Akalak authorities sent a force after this child, Orin would defend her to the death. Luckily, it wasn’t anywhere near that extreme. Still, Orin even forgot to think about his duties in the kitchen, which almost never happened. He was just so focused on making sure that Valour wasn’t in any danger that even his passion for cooking was a distant second priority.

Finally, Valour began to explain her exact situation. At the mention of her having a happy existence back with her family, Orin felt something squeeze his heart. Still, he didn’t begrudge her that experience. Orin wouldn’t wish anyone to have an unhappy childhood like his. In fact, he kept an eye out for fellow orphans and misfits and offered them whatever comfort he could. Valour, luckily, wasn’t alone in the world, but it did appear she was alone in Riverfall. “I’m glad you love your family and they love you too.” Orin found the concept of marrying off a family member to be foreign, but he didn’t say anything about it. In Orin’s mind people should be free to marry whom they loved, but perhaps customs in Avanthal were quite different and he shouldn’t judge someone else’s culture without learning more about it. Valour’s family had been open-minded to let her go. “It’s nice that you have a home to return to.” Orin hadn’t ever really been able to put down roots anywhere, not since that fateful day of the fire. Even though he’d been in Riverfall for a long while, he still felt restless. It wasn’t wanderlust, but he did feel a longing to start building his own for a family.

As Valour continued the explanation, though, Orin felt an angry fire start in his belly, slow but hot. It spread outward from his limbs until he was ready to kill someone. Still, he kept a tight rein on it. It wouldn’t do for him to scare Valour with the depth of his anger. He’d obviously been aware that something had happened regarding Winter this past year, but he hadn’t heard that it had translated into a hunt for Vanthas. There was no reason behind it beyond spite, and Orin didn’t think that punishing the Vanthas for a goddess’ decision “You’re right. That’s unfair.” Orin could hold himself back any longer, and he carefully went to gather the distraught Valour in his arms, hugging her tight. People were cruel, Orin knew that all too well, but this senseless brutality was shocking even to him. “Shhhh. You’re fine. You’re safe right now. I’ve got you.”

He stroked her back slowly, hoping that the physical contact would calm her. He wasn’t great with this sort of comfort, but the chef figured that it couldn’t hurt. They stayed that way for a moment or so, before Orin broke apart, and stared directly into Valour’s color-changing eyes. “Listen to me. The world is a scary place. And people might not be on your side. Believe me, I know that.” Orin never let anyone in, because he’d been betrayed and hurt too many times before. He didn’t have the luxury of relying on anyone but himself. It was a lonely existence though, and Orin felt that maybe if he could just trust slightly more easily, he could be a lot happier. But unfortunately it wasn’t something he could change about his life or his mind. Unless circumstances changed, Orin didn’t think he would ever really be able to form bonds with people again. They were too easily broken.

That didn’t mean that he couldn’t take Valour under his wing. “I promise you that anyone who tries to hurt you will have to deal with me first. And I’m sure that your family is safe. They seem like smart competent people. But since I can’t always be around to watch you, I encourage you to learn how to defend yourself.” Orin was still learning that as well and the chef knew the importance of reaching proficiency in at least one martial discipline. It might be a bit dark and heavy for Valour, but Orin had never found that sugarcoating the truth made it easier to deal with. In fact, it was often the opposite. “I can help you with that, if you’d like.” Training with someone else was infinitely easier than training alone, Orin knew. “I’d like to check in on you, from time to time, if that’s acceptable to you.” It might be good for both of them to have a closer relationship “And if you ever need anything, you should come find me. I’ll probably be at The Almond Blossom most days and my apartment in the Cora Apartments most nights. If I’m not there, ask around and someone will know where I’ve gone off to.” It was simply good policy to let other people know where he went. After all, he’d never have gotten this job if not for telling his co-workers exactly where he lived.

Straightening up to his full height, Orin smiled gently at Valour. “You’re going to get through this, I promise. I will help in any way I can.” It was just a small gesture in the face of the larger injustice, but hopefully it would help. Morwen would probably relent this coming winter, and the current season was nearly over, so all they needed to do was get Valour through the Fall. Orin spared a moment of worry for his other friends that he now realized were probably Vantha. He’d have to check in on them. For now, though, Valour and Orin had work to do. “Do you think you’ll be able to go out there and get back to work? You can stay here if you’d like, I’ll tell them you’re doing an inventory so I know what to cook for dinner or something.” He could come up with a plausible cover story. “But I have to go out and watch over the rest of the dishes. And take those pies out of the oven eventually. It’s your choice.”
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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Valour Skyglow on July 27th, 2017, 3:52 pm

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Valour’s body froze as the chef grasped her in a tight, comforting hug. Her mind instinctively wandered to fear, before coming to the realization that if he wanted to kill her, he would have already done It a while ago. Her next thought was of her parents- how they would always be there for her when she needed them. The result was her remaining very still for a good few moments before she gave way, relishing in the nostalgic content. Her own arms drew themselves weakly around Orin, and she let go of the last barrier. While she was silent, her body would occasionally jolt as it reflected her sniffles. Tears caressed her lightly tinted cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her mind recollecting any happy memory she had ever shared with her relatives. She had been given the comfort she needed, and thus had been allowed to release all the crammed emotions.

As Orin released her, she steadied herself on her reluctant limbs. Her hands came up to her face as they wiped away the remaining tears. Orin was now talking about the feeling of the world being a rival to oneself. Valour nodded her head in agreement, the dark blue of her soulful eyes becoming paler by the minute. The quiver her body had adopted was slowing, following the calming of her breathing. She stared at Orin, her eyes portraying complete and utter agreement.
”I don’t like that feeling at all. . . I wish things were different, but I guess that’s not up to me.” She sighed, her thoughts addressing the banner she had read. She remembered how greedy it had sounded, how it had spoken of the mizas so proudly and belittled the Vanthas so rudely. It had admired the nonliving over the living, making a life out of what was not real, while equalizing the race with that of a piece of useless furniture. She was one of the easily disposable numbers, one who would be an easy catch. The whole ordeal was something she had finally wrapped her head around, and it made her feel cast out beyond comparison.

As Orin began speaking about protecting her, she shook her head. As much as Valour wished someone could stand up for her and be there for her in the worst of times, she didn’t like the possibility of endangering his life. It was a feeling of nagging guilt; she didn’t want to be the cause of someone’s death.
”You can’t, you’d be in danger. Anyone on our side is in danger, if they see you helping me you’d be. . .” She gulped, the blue of her eyes dissolving into yellow. The new color represented her fear; there was no way she would stand for someones life being on the line because of her. However, as he spoke of defense, her head bobbed quickly and she spoke instantly. ”Yes, yes. I had made plans to train in unarmed combat and with a bow and arrow, because I have to be able to rely on myself. I can’t be a sitting duck, especially because I’ll be underestimated.” She paused, before whispering. ”And right now, I definitely meet those expectations.” She looked rather petrified before blinking away the fear, redirecting her attention onto Orin.

He spoke of helping her train, and this was what she agreed to. So long as no one found out that Orin was training a Vantha, he would be fine. This would simply motivate her to learn how to disguise her visible emotions, though it would definitely be challenging. Nevertheless, she allowed that thought to settle as she listened to Orin’s next words. He wanted to check on her? Her eyes widened at the sincerity in his voice, and the kindness of his offer. He had also referred to where he would be if she needed him, it was something that she had not even considered as a possibility.
”You actually want to make sure I’m okay?” It was more of a question to herself than to him, and it was a surprise. She blinked up at him hopefully- maybe there would be at least one trustworthy person in this world of horrific beings.
”I don’t know what to say. . . Thank you- thank you so much. But, I still don’t want to put you in danger, that would be selfish of me.” She frowned. ”I’ll have to learn how to keep people from thinking I’m a Vantha, still haven’t really gotten there yet.” She smiled hopelessly, rocking back and forth on her heels. It was true, with her eyes constantly changing color whenever an emotion became too intense for her to keep at bay, her eyes immediately reflected them. The only non-Vantha feature she bore, was her height of 5’6. She was tall for a female Vantha.

Valour attempted a weak smile as he spoke of her getting through everything.
”I really do hope so; dying at fifteen hasn’t ever been on any bucket list of mine.” The dark joke bore a seriousness to it that made the air hanging between them heavy, and rather dull. Orin had started talking about the work in the kitchen- something she had completely forgotten about.
Her voice was frantic, though determined. ”I’m sure I can help out, I just. . .” A look of concentration washed onto her face, ”Have to. . . get my eyes back to being purple.” She attempted to push away any pessimistic thoughts, her head turning to the side. She set her gaze onto a reflective, metallic utensil. Her eyes had been a glowing yellow, though towards the conversation’s end, had once again, turned to blue. She focused her entire mind on setting it back to purple; there was no way she would mope around any longer while the kitchen needed more assistance.

Her eyes glimmered, lines of purple covering the entire iris. The blue was gone, and the sparkling violet was back. Turning towards Orin, she nodded her head. ”I’m ready, there’s no way I’m going to sit in here any longer, I’ve already wasted enough time.” Her ‘work mode’ had flipped its switch on, turning the emotional one off.
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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Orin Fenix on July 27th, 2017, 11:01 pm

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The hug seemed to do the poor girl some good, although it wasn't that apparent at first. As she tentatively returned his embrace, Orin could feel her body occasionally shake, and he assumed she was crying even though she remained totally silent. It was a form of grief that Orin was intimately familiar with -- crying mostly on the inside -- and the chef tightened his hold on her in sympathy. Still, there was only so long that Orin could stay there for so long and the hug came to an end. Valour looked shattered, as if the dam holding her emotions back and they all came flooding out. It was an experience Orin knew well. Still, she straightened up and wiped her tears and Orin’s heart broke at the sight of someone who, like him, had been forced to grow up too fast and for all the wrong reasons.

Orin’s words about the world sometimes being against them seemed to resonate with Valour. Perhaps she internalized the message a little too much; based on the response she gave, she felt far too alone. Hopefully Orin could convince her that it wasn't so dire as all that. “You know, I believe in Priskil. She embodies radiance, vigilance, and hope. Those last two are the most important I think. Because, while we have to be vigilant against evil, we also have to have hope that tomorrow will be better than today.” Orin smiled at Valour, hoping she'd understand what he was trying to say. Still, it would probably be good to offer here a little bit more concrete and less esoteric reassurances. “It is up to you, and me, and all of us, to decide where we stand. I stand by you, and anyone else I perceive to be the victim of injustice. That’s the only way we’re going to make the world a better place, by each of us taking responsibility a little bit more, by each of us being a little bit more compassionate. It will all add up.” Maybe that would finally convince her that not everyone was evil.

Still, she didn’t seem to be taking Orin’s words in the way he had hoped. The chef shook his head at Valour’s protest. He had to make one point very clear to the young Vantha, because she was looking at this the entirely wrong way. “Well, it's a good thing that my decision to help you out is just that: my decision.” Orin was long past the days where he would let anyone tell him how to live his life, though he redirected some of the rage simmering inside towards his father, who had tried to remold Orin and whose influence shaped some of Orin’s worst behaviors, even today. But the chef’s path in life was all his own. “It's my choice what I do with my life and which risks I take. If I want to risk it helping you survive then there's nothing you can do about it.” The words were fierce, full of a righteous anger, and his tone was sharp, but kind. He wanted to make it very clear that he was going to be involved in Valour’s life whether she wanted it or not.

She did have plans to train, but Orin figured it would be difficult to accomplish if she couldn’t be in public that often without fear of discovery. He frowned, considering this dilemma. “Where were you planning to train? I don’t know if the Sasarans are the best idea and your apartment might be too small.” Maybe she’d already come up with a solution, but Orin stood by his words. Even if she could safely go to the Sasarans, the Akalaks had a nasty habit of coddling women. “It’s a good plan, and I’d like to help you with it in any way that I can,” he offered, hoping to soften any negative impact his concerns might have had. He smiled at her observations that people would underestimate her. “It’s good to be underestimated. People do it to me all the time. Makes it easier to sucker punch them where it hurts. Literally and metaphorically.” It was true, Orin’s opponents tended not to expect much from him, and for a long time that was true. Now though, he had some confidence in his abilities.

“I do,” he confirmed firmly. She seemed fixated on this idea that being near her would end badly for Orin, and maybe it was true. He didn’t know of anyone else he could trust on this issue, because he didn’t really have any close friends in the city. Somehow, he knew a lot of healers, but they might see the removal of the Vantha as necessary in order to save a lot more lives come the following years. Orin just didn’t know, and he was beginning to have a small sense of the burden Valour had been carrying all this time. “As I said, my life is mine to spend as I please. I plan to spend it helping you. So I can do that with or without your permission. It’ll be a lot harder and probably a lot more dangerous for both of us if you don’t help me help you.” That much was true, and hopefully she’d see the sense in them working together. As for keeping people from realizing she was a Vantha, Orin couldn’t really offer her much advice. “Maybe there’s something in the library that might help? Some obscure potion or magic?” Orin really didn’t know enough about this topic to be even making guesses.

He smiled at her feeble attempt at a joke, though it had very dark undertones. “Not dying on the bucket list. I think that’s something we can all agree on, although it does carry a great deal of irony, considering.” He tried to lighten the mood by being witty and twisting her words around, but wasn’t sure he succeeded. “We’ll get you through this. Sixteen is a big year, after all, and you wouldn’t want to miss it.” At least, it seemed huge in Vantha culture.

Apparently, she could control the changes in her eyes, at least somewhat, and Orin watched as they went from yellow to blue to purple. It could become bewildering if he paid too much attention to it. He didn’t know if it was a matter of concentration or relaxation but perhaps he could offer some help. “There’s a…breathing technique I read about a while ago. You take deep breaths, from your stomach, and then clear your mind. After that, you focus on feeling anchored to the earth, trying to notice everywhere you’re touching the ground.” The chef shrugged, not knowing if this advice was at all useful, though he took a few breaths himself, tried to clear his racing mind, and sank more deeply into his center of gravity to demonstrate, and ended up feeling his attention sharpen as a result.

She seemed determined to get back to work, an attitude Orin admired. “Atta girl. We’ve got work to do. Can’t keep the patrons waiting, silly things. What would the rich people do without us?” With that Orin led the way out of the kitchen, trusting Valour to follow. He made a beeline for the oven with the pies. Once there, he put cloths on his hand, opened it, and started pulling the desserts out, as their scent began to fill the room. Flagging down a waiter, Orin informed her, “When you start collecting the main course, tell the patrons they can have apple pie or a sweet fruit and cheese plate for dessert.” Turning to Valour, Orin asked, “Would you rather cut slices of pie or put together the fruit and cheeses?” It didn’t matter much to him.
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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Valour Skyglow on July 29th, 2017, 12:06 am

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Valour blinked quickly upon hearing the chef respond to her previous replies. Orin had brought up Priskil, a goddess she wasn’t familiar with. As he went into explaining why he agreed with her morals, she found herself nodding along with him. It was true, what he was saying made a lot of sense. Being vigilant saved lives, though maintaining hope offered more opportunities and increased the flourishing of ones life. It wasn’t good to live in a shell of doubt and worry, one that she would have to overcome. However, the way she viewed it all was rather odd. Valour’s personality was one made up of adventure, and a want for new experiences. All that was holding her back now was this need to conceal her true identity, the hope of being as free as she had wanted had been eradicated. For now, she had to hope that the wave of fear and doom passed over as quickly as possible. Even if it did, she would have a lot to recover from; Valour knew she would have to ignore her family’s predicament, or it would take a toll on her overall mentality and abilities.

As Orin addressed his stance, and politely but passionately pointed out that she would not be the one to instruct him on what he would do for her, she quieted down. She attempted to read the expression on his face, concluding that the drive and fire were probably a result of past experiences. There was something in the way he spoke and the abrupt harshness that lead her to believe that he must have been reminded of something else upon hearing her words of doubt. At this point, she decided it be best not to attempt convincing him otherwise; he seemed to outline his intentions without any signs of it being faltered. He was clear about what he would do, and she knew better than to continue telling him otherwise.
”Okay.” She replied, giving way to his tone and words.

Upon the training issue, she raised her brows. She had briefly considered being discovered or even harassed in the Sasarans, though they were the best training facilities in Riverfall. However, she did know of The Stained Pelt; it was located right outside of Riverfall, and would help her remain unnoticed. The only issue was that the location was for archery, and only archery. Valour had yet to solve her issue with unarmed combat, though she knew books would be her first priority.
”I know the Sasarans aren’t a good idea, though it’d be better than nothing. I considered The Stained Pelt for archery, though it’s basic. For me to get good at actually using my shortbow, I need to practice on targets that move. . .” She wasn’t one to go around killing things for the sake of sport, she would have to target prey that would be used and not left to rot. She wasn’t sure what fauna lay around Riverfall, though she would certainly be able to figure something out.
”I don’t know what animals are native to Riverfall, but I’m sure with some research I’ll be able to figure out something basic, though that can be put to use. I’d never kill something and leave it to rot without putting it to use, that’s just not fair.” She didn’t like the idea of killing a helpless creature, though if it meant enhancing her skills to protect her life, she would have to.
”In relation to unarmed combat, I don’t really know. . . I’ll have to read a lot about technique and methods, then test them out on a willing subject.” She grinned, obviously referencing Orin. She didn’t think that unarmed combat would have to be done anywhere particular- after all, it didn’t require any equipment. In her mind, she would simply need herself, the knowledge, and a partner.

At his minor, but strangely effective joke, she released a few giggles. There was a glimmer of this ‘hope’ that Orin had spoken of within her eyes. Raw determination glittered along with other optimistic emotions. She knew that if she tried her best, she would be rewarded with the prize of skill. He brought up their cooperation in relation to helping her, and she simply nodded in agreement. However, her gaze became puzzled upon the thought of potions to keep her eyes from constantly changing color. She quickly shook her head, easily declining.
”I’ll learn how to keep my emotions at bay. It will take time, but I don’t want to take any sketchy potions, I don’t know anything about that stuff.”

She – once again – agreed with his next few sentences; she knew sixteen was a pretty big year. At the little tip in relation to her breathing, she tested it out for a few seconds. Her body definitely calmed, though she didn’t think it would be too helpful if an emotion became too intense. Maybe she could use the technique if she felt a particular emotion begin to show signs of intensifying? She shrugged her shoulders, deciding that when the time came, she would pray that it worked.

It was finally time to work again, and Valour cleared her head a final time before following Orin out of the pantry. She raised a hand to pull her braid to the side, smoothing it out with a few strokes. The mouth-watering aroma of apple pie drifted through the kitchen; the smell was completely foreign to her, making it all the more heavenly. Her gaze drew towards the oven, where Orin was pulling out the ready pies. She observed everything else going on in the kitchen as she waited for her next instructions. After the chef spoke to one of the waiters, Valour was acknowledged. She had been given two options, though decided to go with the first one.
”I’d rather cut slices of pie, please.” She chose right after the question had been presented, her lips pursing and her brows furrowing in concentration.
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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Orin Fenix on July 29th, 2017, 4:16 pm

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Valour seemed to agree with Orin’s views on life and religion, although she didn’t actually say anything, which Orin though was a little odd. Still, he’d take what victories he could get here. In addition, he was always more than happy to spread what he saw as the wisdom of Priskil, as the goddess embodied most of the qualities he held dear. In fact, Orin hadn’t really looked at or thought about any other God or Goddess since he'd started praying to Priskil. Maybe it was time for him to examine whether there was some other deity he should add to his personal pantheon. That was definitely a thought for another day, however, and for now Orin was just glad that he'd spread the teachings of Priskil to another soul. While Orin wasn't in the goddess’s inner circle, wasn't even marked, he still did his best to convert as many people to her cause as possible.

At least his various attempts to comfort poor Valour appeared to have calmed her down somewhat. Still, the threat was still there, and there wasn't anything much that the chef could do about it overall. It sounded like the other seasons were taking retribution on Morwen’s chosen ones for her actions and Orin was a mere mortal. He couldn’t challenge divine power, and there were three seasons against one. Still, the gods weren’t omnipotent or omniscient, so all they had to do was keep Valour hidden long enough that this irrational hatred faded away.

The least Orin could do was not add to the negative emotions already present in this situation, so he softened his expression and his voice. It was counterproductive for Orin to get mad here, especially when Valour needed him so much. “I’m sorry, that was too…aggressive.” Orin shrugged, slightly embarrassed. The truth was, he hadn’t felt in control for most of his life, always being pushed one way or the other by his father or the realities of being a citizen of Syliras and under the thumbprint of the Knighthood. It was only after coming to Riverfall that Orin had felt he could take agency for his own destiny. Now that he’d tasted that freedom, he had no intention of letting anyone take it away. Still, Valour seemed to have accepted the chef’s decision, so there was no need for him to keep pressing the issue.

Orin had never heard of this Stained Pelt place, but given that he might never have actually raised a bow in his life, that didn’t surprise him all that much. “That seems reasonable.” Still, a bow wasn’t always a useful or feasible weapon, although the range did give quite an advantage so long as the opponent didn’t have the opportunity to close the distance. Still, lugging a bow around was rather difficult, Orin imagined, and it probably wouldn’t be permitted in certain locations.

When it came to the animals and moving targets, Orin was also at a loss. “I know what gets delivered to The Almond Blossom, or, rather Kyole’s Butcher Shop, but I don’t know if that’s actually helpful.” At that, though inspiration struck. “You should try and talk to Aladari, Kyole’s apprentice. She’d have a better idea than I would, and she seemed much more approachable than he did.” Although Orin hadn’t spent all that much time with her, he’d gotten the impression she would be a trustworthy person for Valour to interact with. “And...I don’t know, if hunting doesn’t work, I could toss something in the air for you to shoot at or something?” He felt like he’d seen archers back in Syliras have their partners throw objects in the air to shoot at, but it had been at a distance and he hadn’t been paying that close attention.

They still had the problem of close quarters combat, and Orin’s brow creased in thought as he considered the issue. It wasn’t one he had a ready answer for. “I know a bit of unarmed combat and I’m fairly skilled with my daggers, so I can try to help you out on that front.” An idea was forming in the depths of his mind and he rocked back on his heels as it became clearer. “What if...what if you came to The Almond Blossom early in the day and we practiced there? It’s a crowded space, but it’s probably got more room than either of our apartments, and there’d be no one there to observe us.” It wasn’t anywhere near a perfect solution but Orin was just throwing out possibilities here hoping that either he or Valour could come up with something more reasonable. “I don’t think reading about it is going to be enough, unfortunately,” the chef explained kindly. In his experience, combat was something that one had to actually do to improve in, but maybe Valour could learn from books in ways that Orin couldn’t. “I’m happy to be your punching bag, if that’s what you mean.” He’d thought that he’d made that clear already but the lighthearted banter made him feel good, as it was apparently something Valour needed.

The warm feeling grew as he got Valour to chuckle. This is progress. The happier she felt, the less likely he assumed she would be to do something reckless or lose control of her emotions again. She did have a rather extreme reaction to Orin’s suggestion that she try and use some sort of magic to help conceal her Vantha heritage, and while Orin didn’t necessarily agree with her decision he wasn’t going to try and force it down her throat. He held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, that’s your prerogative. There’s usually nothing dangerous about a potion as long as you know what goes in it, but I respect your choice. You might want to consider other types of disguise in the meantime though.” It would only aid her in thinking of ways to deflect attention away from her, after all. Unfortunately, this was an area the chef was almost completely clueless in.

There was one statement that bothered him. It made him worried in fact, and a little sad that she’d been forced to this. “I tried to keep my emotions at bay for a long time. All I did was keep them suppressed until they’d grown so strong that I could no longer control them and they overwhelmed me. It’s taken me a long time to find my center again. I’d hate to see the same thing happen to you. Maybe…maybe learn from my mistakes. Don’t repress your emotions, but learn to live with them and acknowledge them, but without letting them gain too deep a foothold in your mind.” It wasn’t something Orin had much experience or success with, although every day he hoped to get a little bit better at it.

She copied his breathing technique, and it did seem to ground her slightly, although Orin didn’t know if it actually helped with the eye troubles. Still, she seemed calmer and more focused as they emerged from the pantry, although whether that was a result of their conversation or whether it was a result of his meditation tips, he couldn’t say. She seemed eager to work on the pies and Orin was indifferent so he nodded at her request. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll get to work on the alternate dessert.” Heading to the pantry, Orin got some remaining apples, some berries, and a sweet cheese. Moving back to the dessert area, he grabbed a stack of plates, and then sliced the apples at his top speed. The apples, the berries, and the slices of cheese were artfully arranged on a plate, and Orin began repeating the process. He didn’t know how long they’d spent talking in the pantry, but he couldn’t imagine there was that much time before desserts would have to be served.
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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Valour Skyglow on July 29th, 2017, 10:25 pm

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As Orin carefully apologized for his aggression, Valour tipped her head to the side.
”I didn’t really see it as aggression- more so as passion. You seem to really hold your choices dear to you, and I can do nothing but respect that.” She shrugged, honesty draped over her words. She did think that a person’s life was their own, and so they were free to make whatever decisions they wanted to, so long as it did not negatively impact anyone around them.
”I think it’s good that you stick to your choices, but a little guidance every once in a while isn’t always so horrible.” She pointed out, a brief smile turning her lips upwards. Maybe this statement was merely due to her being a child- she definitely admired guidance, so long as it was not overpowering.

He seemed to agree with her idea about where to train, though she sensed slight doubt as he spoke. It wasn’t a shock to her; a bow and arrow wasn’t always the most reliable weapon in the midst of battle. However, she had grown to enjoy using it throughout her travels, and had sworn to perfect her abilities in handling it. It was just an object that had sparked an odd interest within her, and she had put it to use while hunting for a few critters. She had originally used it for the sake of maintaining a stable food source on drastic occasions, though upon arriving to Riverfall, she hadn’t really needed it much. The uselessness of it had not deprived her mind of interest; she was still determined to learn it perfectly, professionally, even.
”I know a bow and arrow aren’t very efficient when an enemy is right by me, but I do intend on learning it as perfectly as I can. However. . .” She pondered for a moment, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

Her concentration broke as Orin pointed out that he knew what was delivered to the restaurant he worked at, though she agreed with his next statement; it probably wouldn’t be too helpful. His next sentence was what surprised her, but despite the sudden emotion her face remained blank. She had met Aladari at the Valkalah Lirary before finding out about the whole hunt for Vanthas, and they had both partook in storytelling for children. They had also recognized each other as Vantha, and Valour had felt true warmth during the whole experience. The nostalgic memories flooded back as she recalled the story they had told. It was about how Morwen had given the animals their own, separate abilities to survive and thrive.
”I’ve met Aladari, actually.” She informed, though she knew that it was better to leave out that the woman was a Vantha. Aladari probably wanted to keep her being a Vantha under the wraps until the whole Morwen issue rolled over.
”I like the idea of throwing things upwards though, that could be very helpful. . . Oh, oh!” She frowned, picking her next words carefully.
”The Sea of Grass is too dangerous, from what I’ve heard. . . but if I got near the river, I may find some trees. I could shoot at the leaves or the trunks, just a practice. Or I could try to hang targets from them- silly targets, like glass bottles or plain cardboard.” Her creativity in relation to construction was quite ignorant, so she simply tossed around whatever ideas popped into her head.

Upon the mention of daggers and unarmed combat, her interest peaked. She had never considered using a dagger, though she concluded that it would be much more useful in close-ranged combat. Daggers were also much more conspicuous than a bow, so she could be carrying one around without any suspicions. Unarmed combat was what she had already wanted to learn, though a close-ranged weapon wouldn’t hurt. The problem had been where they would train, though her thought was answered as Orin spoke of the Almond Blossom. Pursing her lips, she considered it. There really wasn’t any suitable option, so either way she would agree.
”I don’t mind learning how to use daggers, it would probably be more helpful than hauling around a bow. . . I could keep it hidden and no one would know. . . and if someone attacked me, then bam!” She made a quick motion, as though grabbing something from her apron pocket.
”Hit them where it hurts.” It was an attempt to joke, to lighten her own mood.
”I know books won’t be perfect, but I wanted to just read a bit about methods and tactics, then, yep, try them out on you! But you’d fight back, right? I mean, you can’t just be a punching bag, that wouldn’t be fair.” She explained, her hands falling back to her sides.

Valour’s decision with the potions seemed to counter that of Orin’s, though it was simply something she did not wish to mess with. She had never used or laid eyes on a potion, though her family loved telling many stories about them. She couldn’t remember any off the top of her head, though she didn’t need to. Her instinct had been to decline the offer, thus she had. Orin did not argue with it, so she did not address it after that. However, at his statement for her to allow emotions in, she smiled sadly.
”I wish it was that easy. If I let an emotion in, then I won’t always be sure if my eyes have betrayed my race or not. After all, I don’t have a mirror with me twenty-four-seven. I’ll either have to keep my mental guard up at all times, or find a means of concealment. Glasses, maybe? I’ll have to look around, I’m sure it’s doable.” She paused a moment, before bettering her words.
”I’m usually happy at rest, that’s what the purple represents. I’m an honestly positive person, most of the time. That’s why my eyes are usually the color they are at rest.” She explained, a single finger pointing towards her irises.

After the ending of the conversation she had selected to slice pies, while Orin set up the cheese and fruits. Leaving the pie tins to cool off, she searched for a large, thin plate. She wanted to cut the pies perfectly, thus took it seriously. The chef would probably laugh if he found out how genuinely serious Valour was taking this task, though she personally felt like doing an astounding job. Finding a large, flat and rather light plate, she walked back towards the pie station. Taking a single tin, she flipped it over the plate, patting the back before lifting it. The pie had come down perfectly, and the golden crust of its bottom was facing her. Picking out a large, finely shaped knife, she began cutting a long line across the middle. She then cut one horizontally before cutting two diagonally. Picking up its tin, she fitted it back onto the upside-down pie before flipping the plate and the tin back around. The pie had been sliced evenly and placed back into its tin. She did this with all of the other tins before searching for the utensil she had seen being used when serving cake- she wasn’t sure of the name, though knew exactly what it looked like.

Searching the drawers she located the object and placed it by the ready pies. When Orin came back she would motion towards them.
”I’ve cut them all evenly and-“ She would point towards the utensil before continuing,
”That can be used to take them out easily and serve them on a plate, though you probably already knew that.” Her left foot tapped the ground as she waited eagerly and nervously, hoping she had carried out the task without a hitch.
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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Orin Fenix on July 30th, 2017, 3:47 pm

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Valour seemed to be totally forgiving of the chef’s outburst, for which Orin was grateful. More importantly, she took his apology at face value and didn’t ask him to elaborate at all when it came to his vehement defense of his free will. He didn’t know if he could handle having to explain his past to her again. He felt that they were both walking on a fine line, one that could send either of them over the edge at any moment. What that might look like wasn’t pretty, for either of them. After all, Orin could quite easily imagine that an emotional breakdown on his part would be enough to trigger Valour’s own fragile emotional state, and then neither of them would be able to get much work done. I am a placid lake. Such imagery had never really helped him in the past, but there was a first time for everything. Besides, it probably didn’t hurt his efforts. At Valour’s comment about guidance, Orin smiled. “I’m all for guidance, but there’s a time and a place for it, and too often people start to act as if accepting their advice means they have a claim to you.” At least, that’s how it had been in Orin’s experience, although he’d be the first to admit his upbringing hadn’t been typical and may have left him with some very odd ideas of how people acted. There was one piece of information that he still needed from her if he was going to keep an active eye on her. “Where do you live? I don’t think you mentioned it.”

Valour did seem to have a solid enough head on her shoulders, as she readily admitted that a bow wasn’t the ideal weapon for every circumstance. Orin didn’t know if he’d been this mature at her age. He’d be forced to grow up quickly, to be sure, but instead of acting older than his age Orin felt that instead he’d simply retreated behind a mask of feigned enthusiasm, one that had eventually failed him. Still, he’d grown since then, and he wasn’t the scared little boy he once was. “Well, I’m glad you have some experience with it, and learning to use any weapon usually improves your ability to fight in general. So keep at it, and hopefully you won’t ever need it.” That was his sincere wish, that if he and others trained to defend themselves they’d never be forced to draw upon those skills. “I have never shot a bow before, so I can’t help you on that front. I’ve thrown daggers but generally my ranged combat abilities are basically non-existent.” Orin frowned, troubled by this gap in his knowledge. Maybe he should consider correcting this egregious gap in his training. The Sasarans didn’t seem like the place to pursue that art, but as Valour had mentioned there were places around the city he could shoot arrows in that wouldn’t mind that he couldn’t hit a target to save his life right away.

It was surprising to Orin that Valour had met Aladari, although perhaps it shouldn’t have been. After all, the business world of cooks and their suppliers wasn’t so large that it was inconceivable that everyone knew everyone. After all, Orin knew both women, so they likely operated in the same circles. “Well good. Hopefully she can help you out where I can’t.” At Orin’s suggestion that they try and throw things in the air, Valour grew quite excited. The chef found himself caught up in the girl’s suddenly energized proposal. “That might work. I wouldn’t know how to rig them up but we could certainly try. And that’s probably a great deal safer than me trying to toss objects in the air.” In fact, if Orin was in the line of fire at all, depending how skilled Valour was, he risked becoming a pincushion, which wouldn’t make either of them happy.

Now that both of them were much happier, the conversation picked up, as Orin and Valour’s ideas fed upon one another. He was glad to see that she wasn’t above sucker punching someone if necessary. Sometimes, when surrounded by muscular giants, a few dishonorable strikes were all that kept one alive. Having honor definitely wasn’t worth being dead, in Orin’s opinion and it seemed Valour was of like mind. He grinned at her in agreement. “That’s the spirit! If you have to, kick ‘em where it hurts the most.” He wasn’t going to explain exactly what that meant, but hopefully she already understood. That conversation would be too awkward for both of them. At Valour’s concern about Orin not defending himself, the chef had to chuckle. “Trust me, you won’t hurt me. If you’re just starting out I’m much more worried about you injuring yourself while learning technique than getting hurt by you.” It was true; Orin wasn’t that accomplished in hand-to-hand combat but he didn’t have much to fear from a complete beginner.

It was tough, not knowing how to help her with her changing eyes. Orin wasn’t so conceited that he felt he knew the answer to everything. In fact, he was much more likely to proclaim ignorance of topics. But usually he could come up with something, anything that might aid in the situation. This was apparently something that Valour would have to handle alone. “Hold on to that happiness. I have faith that you can get past this.” If moral support were all he could offer then moral support would be what he would give. He sent fervent prayer up to Priskil that she might also watch over Valour.

Still, the distraction of work seemed to help Valour and Orin. They had finished up the dessert and waiters were starting to take the plates of cheese and fruits that Orin had assembled. Taking up a knife and fork, Orin started carefully transferring slices of pie. “I’ll use these while you use the cake server.” He was skilled enough not to need a special tool and it would be unusual for the kitchen to have more than one such item. Once all the pies were settled, Orin smiled and dusted his hands together, although they were clean enough not to need it. “A job well done, everyone! We did good work today.” He called to everyone in the kitchen, trying to meet everyone’s gaze. A cheer went up from the tired crew, and Orin smiled, glad that he’d managed to gain their trust and support.

The owner, Hruthar, made his way into the kitchen. “Well done, all of you,” he added on top of Orin’s own praise. Coming over to Orin, the left corner of Hruthar’s lips quirked up, slightly, so small that Orin might have imagined it. Apparently that was all the emotion the other man was going to show. Hruthar handed Orin a small pouch full of coins. Orin took it from him wordlessly. “Thank you for coming out here. That should cover your fee for your work.”

Orin smiled, not bothering to count it. The money was the least of his rewards for this job. Pointing first at the salad chef, then at Valour, Orin replied, “Don’t thank me. Thank those two. Their help was invaluable.” Hruthar didn’t say anything, but the other man did consider the two that Orin had pointed out and Orin knew the owner was considering their value. For Orin, though, he was inordinately pleased with himself. This had been a major challenge and he’d risen to the occasion. Maybe I’m finally ready to open up my own place.
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[Laviku's Secret] Fine Dining on Fickle Seas (Valour)

Postby Valour Skyglow on August 7th, 2017, 11:02 am

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Valour was peering up at the chef, his words resonating with her thoughts perfectly. She agreed that once guidance was accepted, it could be seen as a form of submission. Many people tended to overlook the fact that it was simply advice, and begin trying to control. However, at her age, she definitely admired guidance, and took it lightly in comparison to Orin. At the inquiry about where she lived, she paused a few moments, as though thinking. ”My mind went blank for a second there.” She chuckled, lightly. ”Kuahala Estates.” She answered. She found it beyond kind that a person she hardly knew would be willing to check up on her every once in a while, to assure themselves of her safety. However, it was definitely something she would do if the roles were reversed.

Experience with a bow was something she had picked up unintentionally; she had needed to hunt every once in a while throughout her travels. She felt that if a person had a bow in their possessions, then it gave them an upper hand. Distance was an aspect that many people tended to ignore- and for good reason. A bow was definitely a very hard weapon to master, considering it required intense concentration, balance, a steady hand, and strength. Not to mention, sometimes it would have to be fired in the middle of a sprint, or on horseback. She felt a dagger would be easier to maneuver and not as challenging as a bow. At Orin’s statement, she nodded her head.
”I just feel that a bow offers a wide advantage. Shooting someone from afar would be an easy kill instead of having to risk their attack up close. Plus, I don’t really like getting near someone if I’m going to fight.” She took a moment to ponder, before adding a last sentence.
”But if it’s what has to be done, then I will cooperate” She assured.
Valour listened to his words intently, nodding at each of his sentences. She hadn’t thought that Aladari would be able to help her, considering they hadn’t really spoken about their jobs. Nevertheless, she would probably find her and question her. Though the topic steered to the targets; neither of them really knew about how to ‘hang’ targets.
”We can figure something out, I wouldn’t want to accidentally shoot you.” She smiled innocently. It would definitely be a mess if she ended up shooting him; an arrow to the head wasn’t a joke.

Both of them seemed to have found a common ground, and agreements. The phrase he spoke of, she had heard before.
”Yup.” She agreed, hopping in her place with excitement. Her eyes bore interest and their familiar, adventurous vibe. She was, after all, and adventurous girl. Learning new things – as much as some of didn’t tickle her fancy – was what she admired about herself. She practically thirsted for experience.
”Yeah, I probably won’t hurt you- I’ll end up falling, no doubt.” She cringed at the idea of landing on her butt or twisting an ankle. Shuddering, she brushed off the pessimistic thoughts. She would try her best, no matter the consequences.

The topic about her eyes was a battle she knew she would have to fight alone. It wasn’t a ‘magical spell’, it was simply the norm of the Vantha people. She would have to learn how to mask everything with happiness when she felt another emotion coming over her. This lead her to nod to Orin’s words, demonstrating them with a bright smile. Both of them had left the pantry and worked on the desserts, though all that was left was placing the pie slices onto plates. Grabbing the cake server, she used it to scoop up the pie slices and place them neatly onto the plates. That was a job done; she felt absolutely relieved. As Orin praised everyone in the kitchen and they cheered, she grinned brightly, clapping her hands along with the crowd.

Hruthar had come over, and was now standing in front of Orin. They exchanged words, though Valour was concentrating on clearing away any crumbs or dirty plates that lined the counter they had been working at. Shuffling back to Orin’s side, she was overcome by a wave of embarrassment as Orin motioned to the salad chef, and then her. Shuffling, she nodded her head politely to Hruthar; the man really intimidated her. Thankfully, he didn’t direct any words towards her, though it didn’t stop Valour from casting Orin a grateful nod.
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Valour Skyglow
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Posts: 38
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Joined roleplay: June 22nd, 2017, 11:50 pm
Race: Human, Vantha
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