Originally Posted by
MrSandman
OOC: *Sorry for the hold up people, gonna move things ahead a bit now. If there is anything important that I missed and you need an response for tuff luck(Naww, just message me and I'll sub in a quick response to it.*
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After more then an hour or so of hard work in the kitchens, the prepared food is transported from the galley and down to a large structure in the village below. By this time, Morgan has been discharged from the clinic with a cast and some faintly flower smelling herbal paste applied to her remaining wounds....and many of those who had been wandering the ship can been called in preparation for mealtime.
A large area had been set ground level, with many tables and chairs to accommodate the crowd of people both native to the village and refugee from the city. All over various locals made small talk with the refugees where they could, mostly in an effort to calm the ones still slightly off put by the situation....but also out of genuine curiosity. The food was kept inside, and plates were provided so each could take their fill and sit wherever they liked as long as they didn't stray far from the village. Refuges were giving first pickings, with the group that helped in the evacuation givin the first round....followed then by the locals and lastly Mercer and the En Staff.
The feast was enormous, and thought the selection of meat basically boiled down to a hundred varieties of Chicken and Pork...the vegetables were plentiful and seemingly self grown.
The welcome party lasted well into the night, and except for a few strange reactions to overly spiced chicken meat leaving at least 3 mildly stomach sick. one with a burned mouth and Mercer desperate for the recipe, everything had turned out fairly well. Rooms were provided for the refugees in the village and the group was provided rooms in the ship to stay in preparation for the next day.
The labours of the kitchen seemed to have concluded no sooner than Kinu's potatoes had finished frying in the pooled fat. After hoisting each of the roasts into some tinny vessel - it was Mulvric's idea, she would rather have eaten them straight - the heat of the oven which had been sweltering would have been welcome on that long lift-ride down to the settlement. The moment they'd set foot on solid ground, Kinu, jealously guarding the five fowl loosed and plucked from Dr. Horo's private reserve, snatched the lid off, and steam bolted into the cold night air.
The Grey Ghost said pull your weight. Logically, this being the produce of her own labours, meant this portion would be for her plate alone, as wekk as the rations she'd hauled into the wilderness from the slum bazaar earlier.
And yet, when confronted with the now homeless survivors of A-9, a deep frown set in her face. Turned loose from immediate doom, only to be marked a liability as they were betrayed by Admin overseers that wanted to make their mistakes disappear, now upended in a world they never asked for and starving...a bit of reticence stirred within her as she slid this contipution over, as she popped off a roasted pig's leg to crunch into.
It had been a long, long time since she last had a communal meal. Not since the sack of the Hallowed Halls, ferocious lunch for a bunch of limp-wrists with no technique, fuh-fuh-fuh. In time, Kinu had slaked her appetite with the large bowl of cubed chicken's blood, but it was the later moments when the drink began to flow freely that she'd relaxed enough to get into a celebratory mood; a celebration, naturally, of herself.
After downing a frothing tankard of foaming homebrew spirit that bit the tongue and stripped her palate dry, she slammed it down on a table and shouted into the night air to an audience who she could not tell were captivated or unnerved. But it didn't matter.
-and in the Swamps of Tsuba, the fang'd Unagi slithered there,
I dove in the water, and seized on its collar,
And drowned it in its lair!
Standing with her foot on the bench, she boisterously pat the taut, sunbleached scales adorning her left knee, took a swig of this makeshift beer, and struck it back upon the table, continuing to a steady, flat rhythm.
The plains of Western Wildlings, their feathered arms, their claws,
They caught these hands, as the wind takes the sands,
They took their whooping raw!
The song of Kinu the Great had shouted long into the night for what seemed like hours. From the driving of the horned grazers off cavernous cliffsides, to the seizure of the Baubled Belt of Brannigan, it was with the smell of the night air drifting in from the woods beyond the cliffside that she got a notion in her head. She'd announced her challenge to the Wild Tribesmen beyond the Inhibitor Field in the shadow of the Iron Giant. That they should know thet she was here.
And they were not ready.
Morning came sooner then expected, and the call came for the group to head to medical....it seemed the injections had been prepared, and the haste in En announcement emphasized there would be very little time to waste.
With daybreak, on the other hand, Kinu the midnight scop swaggered in to medical on loopy steps, ceramic mask plastered onto her face under scraggled hair as she lurched in.
Originally Posted by
Sub-Zero MKA
"The only person who'll be going first is Mercer," Xia intoned from the corner. "He's apparently the leader, let him lead by example."
The feast yesterday was fine. Whoever prepared the chicken seriously overdid it with the spices, but other than that, she couldn't complain. She wasn't in much of a position to complain anyway. The training she partook in prior to that left her starving. The overall spread had everything she could want practically, and was prepared far better than she had managed at any point when she was on her own. Spices were in short supply on the street, especially when she was in a Center she shouldn't have been in. It wasn't a matter of simply walking into a store and dropping some money when she wasn't supposed to be there in the first place and the Authority was crawling all over the place. She made due at the time.
This time, there was more to her disposal. One of those days, she was going to make something more than strips of meat on an open fire. She was pretty sure that wasn't going to fly on that "battleship", anyway.
"If he lives and looks relatively normal, I'll go second."
"...what the hell? You mean he still hasn't-" she leaned against the wall, a blob of mottled textures making her look like the melting headache she felt throughout her whole person.
"Mercer, quit being a pussy," she growled, "Take one like a true believer."