Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 5, 2014 23:42:20 GMT -8
3076.06.20| Mid-day |Dining room
Could I please have more of the red-fruit?
Ayasha smiled and sliced another of the fruits. Revallesh loved red-fruit. It wasn’t supposed to be any part of her diet, but since she didn’t sicken from it, and loved it so much, Ayasha couldn’t resist giving it to her.
Happily humming, Revallesh stretched her neck out and snapped up the fruit, then pressed up against Ayasha. Of course, she also returned to her normal state, which was to say a fluffy coconut.
A commotion by the door of the dining room made Revallesh fluff up further, scrunching her neck down. Ayasha jumped, then started to stand up, wondering what could possibly be going on.
“I will end that bird!” Cr’wean’s dark cloud could follow him for miles, and his loud stomping made more than a few of the lifewing riders duck out of the way. He could almost hear her hissing at him in that amused way, feh! Kiyosh needed to leave him alone after long shifts. He had been asleep this morning, catching up after his o’dark thirty call. Being a healer was hardly fun for the hours. However, things had turned out all right on the call and he had gotten back to bed. HOWEVER, Kiyosh had decided he now needed to be up and had executed his pillow for not getting up in good time. So he yelled at her. And she yelled at him. And he had stormed out of his room and went elsewhere. Currently he was going to grab some food. Wearing clothes he had clearly slept in and with pillow feathers in his hair. He hadn’t even bothered running a comb through his curls.
“Hey Cr’wean, you look like you should-“
“DON’T CARE L’NAR, LEAVE ME BE!” He stomped, grabbed food and went to a corner to eat. Stupid bird. Stupid stomach, he hadn’t eaten since last night. He continued brooding, wishing he had some spiced cookies. He wanted something to cheer himself up.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 11, 2014 20:48:48 GMT -8
Ayasha flinched. Despite the stereotype that Northerners tended to be loud, obnoxious, and bull-headed, her family tended to be on the quiet side. Lots of laughing and joking, but as far as open anger and storming around…
In fact, the way she scrunched her neck down as the man came storming into the room, looking all rumpled and stomping and yelling, made her look like a less fluffy version of her lifewing. A much less fluffy version of her lifewing.
She looked up as the man sat down and began eating, then stood up and went to get some more food, including the fish that she was supposed to be feeding Revallesh.
“Here, take these cookies to Cr’wean please, before he rips a table apart,” one of the cooks said.
Ayasha gingerly took the plate and walked over, practicing her neutral-face.
“Cook’s compliments,” she said, setting the plate down in front of the exceptionally annoyed and grumpy man.
Cr’wean mumbled to himself between bites, still looking displeased. Mostly about Kiyosh. She was the only one truly able to get under his skin, mostly because she knew him so well. That and she tried to get him to do what she thought he needed. Stupid meddling –
Cr’wean stared at the plate for a moment, almost like he was deciding whether or not this was good or bad. He reached out and took on, taking a bite and pausing to chew. Spiced. Almost spicy, and only a little sweet. Somebody knew what he liked. He looked up, examining the person who had delivered it. Fledgling it seemed. He had no idea who she was, but it was fairly possible she knew who he was. Stompy feet and all. However, she was here courtesy of the cook. Or cooks. Hard to say who. Of course now he was in the awkward, stubborn feeling of wanting to be mad. He could not justify it to himself though. It was a painful series of moments until he finally spoke up.
“Thanks. Tell ‘em thanks.” His voice was still a bit gruff, but he got that out there. Geh, that felt like pulling teeth. Receiving OR operating on. He hated doing things with teeth.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 11, 2014 21:43:53 GMT -8
Ayasha grinned. She couldn’t help it. “I will do that, sir,” she responded. She departed then, returning first to her own table to set fish out for Revallesh (who would soon reach the size where she didn’t fit in the dining hall anymore) and then to the cooks, to convey Cr’wean’s thanks.
The cooks seemed relieved, a sentiment that Ayasha echoed whole-heartedly. It was a good thing that the commotion had not been because of something going drastically wrong with a patient.
On her way back past Cr’wean though, she hesitated, curiosity spiking. “What happened?” she asked.
She was way too happy about that. Made him regret saying it. Sort of. He just looked more grumpy and slid his lunch/breakfast/actual food away to make room for the cookies. He liked having it with K’lah, the bitter and the spiced sweetness worked well since both flavors were strong. Cookies to himself. He liked that. None of his sister’s ‘Pretty please?’ or her firelizards sneaking off with any. Just him, his cookies-
And the girl who got him the cookies. Cr’wean looked up again, looking annoyed. Less actively angry, more natural state of the world, grumpy. Did she really care? Whatever. If she wanted to know, fine, then he could eat cookies.
“Kiyosh flipped me out of bed and trashed my pillow. I do not like being woken up before I want to get up when I can sleep in. We got into a yelling match.” Simple enough. He popped a cookie in his mouth and chewed.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on May 12, 2014 7:00:23 GMT -8
Ayasha swallowed a smile. She could imagine the scene playing out, complete with Cr’wean the Grump holding onto his pillow for dear life while Kiyosh used her beak to rip it apart. The feathers used to stuff the pillow would be flying everywhere, of course, floating through the air as Grump and Kiyosh argued about the virtues (or lack thereof) of an early rising.
That is hilarious. Revallesh shook her head out, stretching her neck upward slightly. It was her equivalent of laughter.
“Sounds like an interesting way to start the day,” Ayasha commented, before returning to her nearby table and the open book of still unfinished notes.