Originally Posted by
grampagen
The four flounders sat flat, their oblong eyes opaque as they sizzeld upon their small platters filling Balon's house with the scent of savoury heat.
It was the loudest sound between the clink of cutlery and a subdued chewing as all the chatter stopped. All the while, the chef stared daggers across the room at the Majin.
. "...take care Marron," Zaofan's said to her, his tone light as she made her exit. As soon as the door shut, his fork fell flat on the table and he turned his attention back to the Majin in their midst.
"Master Balon, do you know what he did?!" His chair slid back, and he was poised to move in an instant. "It doesn't matter if he might wear your colours today, changing shapes for him is as easy as a Snake sheds its skin!"
Still, the Dragon School Master, the Last on Earth, stated his case, and Zaofan only wished his tone wasn't so measured, so patient; so composed!
"Sasheem admitted it himself. He's using all of us, especially you! What do you even see in him?!"
Pushing through the soften flesh with a pair of chopsticks, Ochazuke peeled the fillet off the flounder, and stripped it to the bone. Fins, scaleless skin, and aromatic flesh fell away on one side.
"I suppose you have choked long enough upon the refuse of eons," he said, "Why would you bother to bear the burdens of a divergent one?"
The methodical process by which he dismantled the fish continued when he flipped it over, until a flattened crown was all that remained, set atop exposed unadorned spine and ribs.
As he prod it to the wayside, it seemed to slither to the edge of his plate.
"Still, it is refreshingly honest for you to acknowledge your place stands far from the battle."
"'Hopefully we came prepa-'" Zaofan sputtered, "you arrived later than we did, and after ducking out on us on that asteroid no less! And leaving Officer P-Sta behind in the wreckage~" The nerve of this guy! The only reason the GP Officer had returned at all was likely some million-to-one cosmic accident!
Meanwhile, Ochazuke poured a cup of tea, his head bowed slightly as Balon spoke. The closer they came to realizing their goal, the more mindful he became of the weight of legacy; he imagined that Zaofan's rising gall in Sasheem's proximity resonate to a similar degree. Beyond the burden of responsibility for the matter of those lost days, Ochazuke had a specific, personal stake in this.
The Map of the Shrines, after all, had come from another student of Zxu'ro that also came near to a resolution, only to fall short.
The smallest ripple, spread wide, creates all the greater a divergence. Yet that Alternate World carried itself in echoes within this one, and that glimpse of that doomed future was with him ever since. Yet for the shouting and bluster at the other end of the table, the opportunities realized by this small gesture of discovery roused a quiet excitement within him. The dryness of the tea seemed to sharpen his senses; he would not miss a thing.
"Then we should move swiftly towards our discovery, then. The spirit of the shrine has been left waiting long enough."