Salted Pork

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The vast, beautiful oceans encircling Mizahar. The Sebakem Ocean to the east and the Ahger Ocean to the west.

Salted Pork

Postby Madeira Craven on June 30th, 2018, 2:54 am

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"Salted pork. Again." Madeira bemoaned, letting the tin plate and its shriveled pork chop clatter on the long scuffed galley table. The tanned young sailor behind her chuckled as he slid onto the bench opposite her, balancing his own pork and pickled vegetables and a half cup of rationed rum. Daniel, the tall sixteen-year-old crewmember, was in the habit of taking his evening meal with her. Even going so far as
to wait for her to emerge from her tiny private cabin to be sure they
ate together.

"Aw, the foods not that bad", he quipped, already starting on his
pork. He had to saw through it with a serrated knife like he was
carving leather. "In fact this is miles above what you typically get
on long voyages. They must be stepping their game for you, Miss
Aristocrat", he teased. She never told them what her purpose for going
to Lhavit was, and the name 'Craven' meant nothing to the seafaring
folk. But she had a put-together appearance, strange profession, and
was wealthy enough to pay for two season of a chartered ship, which
gave them suspicions of what she was. 'Foreign aristocrat' was the
kindest of the theories.

Madeira smiled blithely and poked at the muck of mystery vegetable.
"If this is what passes for fine dining on the sea, then whatever slop
they typically feed you is a war crime."

"You get used to it. You'll even start to miss it when your back on
land, I guarantee."

"After two seasons of salt and acid, I probably wont be able to taste
anything else."

"That too."

The silence of the next few ticks was filled with the scrape of knifes
and forks and the grumbling of the cook in the kitchen on the far side
of the galley. Madeira was doing her best to carve out the withered
bit of yellow bone out of the center of her pork chop. Sawing away the
gristle she finally surfaced with a wide stained bone still stubbornly
clinging to bits of leathery meat and stuffed with black crumbling
bone marrow. She was studying it in the yellowish light of the
lanterns when Daniel looked up.

"It doesn't taste any better cold, ya know. What are you doing with that?"

"Nothing, just thinking." she smiled, putting the bone to the side.
"How has your day gone?"

That was all the prompting he needed to launch into the harrowing
story of how he narrowly escaped death by being attacked by a sea hawk
and falling from the rigging, only to save himself at the last chime
by somersaulting in the air and catching the byline with the tip of
his boot. Madeira was a good audience, meeting his dramatic pauses
with encouragement and his quick thinking and bravery with wide eyes.
Despite the fact that she already heard the story from the another
crewman, who claimed Daniel was probably hit by a low-flying seagull
and fell. But by the time anybody on the crew knew what had happened
the boy was screaming for help and tangled up in the rigging.

WC: 518
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 921
Words: 737097
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
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Salted Pork

Postby Madeira Craven on August 4th, 2018, 3:03 am

Image
In the midst of his impassioned performance, Madeira's palm slid over the bone, and thus hidden from view, was delivered to her lap. It left an oily sheen on her hands, but she couldn't stop tracing her thumb over it's surface, feeling the knicks and scratches of butcher knifes. She wondered what kind of life that pig led, and how gruesome it’s death was. What kind of circle would she need to coax it's dijed out of it, and what shape would it take when she did? With her nail she traced a prefect circle, and in her mind mapped what she would put inside.

A knife for brutality, she reasoned. Connected by a spiral for confusion. maybe she could steer the magic so that it would affect hunters and those who butchered animals. But how could she narrow its focus that much? With her thoughts turning, planning and mapping and as deep into her shallow understanding of Malediction as she could reach, she didn't notice when her eyes began to wander.

"Madeira, are you listening?"

The spiritist jumped at being addressed directly, and cursed herself for letting her mind wander. Daniel was staring at her, the corner of his lips in a dejected frown around his mouthful of vinegary vegetables. She soothed his ego with a smile.

"I'm sorry. You caught me daydreaming", she hummed dreamily, waving the prong of her fork to the ceiling.

"Oh really? And what does Lady madeira daydream about?" he smiled back with sparkling blue eyes, and she could see him mining for a deeper conversation she in no way wanted to have.

I daydream of the last moments of a slaughterhouse pig and how I could use its corpse.

"Cake. Do you even remember the smell of cake?"

Taken aback by her deflection, Daniel paused before rallying himself and trying again. "Yah, but-"

Magic should not be used flippantly. Her uncle Frode would be furious if he could read her mind, and see the idea turning in her head. But the opportunity was there, and she couldn't let it pass.

From her soul she coaxed the dijed forward, let it sit in the lining of her eyes. And through the steady contact of their eyes Madeira did not press a subconscious thought or feeling, but attempted to force feed him a sensation. She recalled the smell of sponge cake, the warm vanilla notes and the creamy butter. She could remember it perfectly, but driving it from her mind to his was tricky. Her focus was intense, and she could feel herself burning more dijed than she expected. Thedelivered hallucination was and underdeveloped and unspooling thing, but she took one look at him and knew it worked.

Daniel blinked, rubbed vigorously at his nose with the back of his hand and blinked again. Now completely derailed, a slack bewilderment crossed his face, and he tried to cover it up by shoving an ambitious bite of salted pork and immediately choking on it.

Madeira pushed her own food around her plate, harbouring a secret glow of satisfaction and moving her thumb in slow circles around the oily, pitted bone under the table.

WC: 528
User avatar
Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 921
Words: 737097
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 4
Featured Thread (1) Mizahar Grader (1)
Overlored (1) Donor (1)


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