Dish Best Served Cold (Winged!)

[zeis]

It was after dinner one evening that K'ii found himself hating life. The work day for most of the Winglet's was over, and many were free to go about their own business, enjoy some leisure time. Except for him. The young green-rider had been given mess-hall duty, not only for tonight but for the next week. The initial dinner-rush had left quite a few dishes behind, and tables and floors that needed cleaning. Now moved unhappily and uncertainly through motions that were unfamiliar to him. Picking up dirty dishes and walking shakily with a stack of them toward the sink, moving almost painfully slow to avoid breaking them. He knew it was only a matter of time. He was a disaster waiting to happen, and he seemed to be getting in the way of the staff more than helping them.

This is unfair. Akaturiaph spoke with scorn from where she sat waiting outside the entrance to the ground caverns. The green had grown too large to move comfortably inside the more human adapted places in the Eyrie without knocking over everything in her way. He had told her she could go back to their room, but she had refused. That boy deserved what he got. Next time just make sure I'm there to protect you. She growled darkly, making him pause unhappily with his armload of breakables before continuing on. I don't want there to be a next time, Aka. He pleaded as he dumped the dishes carefully into the sink, spraying himself and the apron he had been given with dishwater.

Why not? You have to stand up for yourself. The way she said it sounded almost proud. K'ii shook his head and strode back to collect the next load, smiling a bit awkwardly at the people that were still trickling in to take their meal. The incident that had led to this particular punishment had occurred earlier today in this very room at breakfast. He had been leaving to get an early start on that days lesson when one of the eyriefolk, a boy his own age had stopped him. He couldn't even remember what the boy had said anymore, just that he had had been in a sour mood already from a bad nights sleep and an earlier argument with Akaturiaph. Some words were exchanged, and whatever the boy had said last, it had been the straw that broke the horse's back.

The next thing he knew, he and the other boy were on the floor fighting and he was winning, and K'huna and some other adults were breaking them up. Afterward, when K'ii had received the dressing down of the century from the incensed red-rider, he chose to call his teacher some rather unfortunate names. He sincerely regretted that more than he regretted the actual fight now. Maybe he would have been cleaning dishes for just a couple days instead of a week. His knuckles still hurt, and his face and arms were bruised. He felt drained not only from the fight, or the chores, but this whole day. I know...

Did he hit you first? You can tell me. Akaturiaph asked craftily, and beneath her calm tone he felt an anger he didn't exactly trust for the other boy's sake. Uh... I don't remember... He dithered as he stopped at a table, and started piling leftover dinnerware into his arms. His troubled dark green eyes halted on a bottle of wine, still a third of the way full, and he paused. A drink was tempting... But how much more trouble would he get in if he was caught drinking?

[winged]

Another busy day had wound down to the long stretch of evening that lay between I'dou and a bedtime she felt comfortable claiming without courting the suspicions that she'd become a little old lady in her young age. There were dozens of ways to wittle away the hours, but for tonight she'd fallen on an old stand-by...

The communal mess hall had been evacuated of most of its occupants before the gray rider had washed up a face and hands dirtied with whatever bit of cleaning she'd busied herself with, and began her trek down to her evening meal after checking on a drowsy Laraph curled up on her ledge. Realistically there wasn't much chance of the chick causing a commotion alone, in an isolated place, but some misguided instinct drove the winglet to fulfill the tradition regardless.

Laraph bid her rider a good evening all the same, sleepy warmth suffusing her good night before she more tightly curled around herself, and shut her lids for good. From that point on, it was a surplus of twisting, narrow back passages to avoid on-coming traffic - there was a specific route she followed every time, another habit become second nature. And, as predicted, she arrived to an almost empty mess hall. A little sigh of pleasure at the privacy promised, before a growling stomach hastened her to a seat not far from where a disconsolate K'ii cleared messy plates and half-empty goblets. For the better half of a minute her steely eyes passed over the green winglet entirely; her gaze was only for the fresh crust of bread she'd just nabbed from a nearby basket. Still warm, too - I'dou ate better here than she'd ever at home. As a candidate, she'd put on at least a few pounds before Bonding. Not to her detriment, at least; she'd been a shade too thin before migrating to the Eyrie.

After eating her way through a good hunk of bread, and her stomach placated for the moment, the woman's sense of perception slowly stretched past what lay directly before her eyes, to the other presences still shadowing the hall. There were a few of the older riders dining in twos and threes further away, their conversation a dull hum in the background. There was something of greater interest closer by, however, and finally I'dou turned her sights on the disgruntled winglet. She recognized him, and easily drew on past recollections to remember the high tempered green that was his; his name remained a mystery, however.

That wasn't necessarily important, at least for now. More intriguing was the fact that he was here, busing dishes. Her brow furrowed in consideration - cleaning the dining hall wasn't a winglet chore. And a quick scan of the room brought to the young woman's attention that there were several of the Kitchen staff lurking about. They weren't short-staffed, so why...?

While she glanced furtively, from time to time, at her fellow rider, I'dou chewed and puzzled over the unimportant details of what didn't concern her. It really ought to have slipped past her, pointless distraction as it was. During one furtive peek, however, the gray rider noticed the other winglet's own eyes latched onto a half empty bottle of alcohol sitting no more than an arm's length away. Her body flowed into action before her mind could throw up a suitable defense, and callused fingers closed around the chilled neck of the bottle as her intense stare sought to seize K'ii's own.

She said nothing. Nothing to validate extending herself just to clamp that hand on that bottle of wine - just a steady look which was almost as unreadable as her actions were justifiable.

[zeis]

K'ii to his own credit, had not noticed the arrival or presence of I'dou either. His own attention, though it flicked with awkward politeness to the late diners he passed by, had been largely attuned toward the task at hand. He didn't trust himself to carry plates or anything messy without dropping it, and breaking something or making a mess. So it was only when the gray winglet's hand closed around the tempting bottle of wine that the green winglet noticed who it actually was. His dark green eyes moved with some surprise to lock with her gaze, and he recoiled slightly before freezing in place.

I'dou. He had never spoken with her before, but he had seen her bond. Had glimpsed her several times during lessons, and back and forth across the Eyrie grounds on chores and in leisure time. From what he heard from Akaturiaph and had been reminded of rather often by the Wingletmaster, was that she had hurt herself trying to ride her gray Laraph. That was why she had been pulled out of the lessons, which had added quite considerably to the mystery surrounding her. Rumors abounded in the Alpha class about why she had really been taken aside, and what she might be learning now. K'ii wasn't sure if any of these rumors were true, but they still had a bit of an effect on him as he found himself face to face with her.

He maintained her gaze at first with a bit of surprise and nervousness, as if he had been caught in some act of thought crime for thinking about taking a drink. A distant part of him worried that she might rat him out to the Wingletmaster, and that led to a bit of indignance. After all, he wasn't the only one who drank when they weren't supposed to. He didn't know why she was just staring at him, but if she was trying to bully him somehow it wouldn't work. He was through with being bullied today, even if he no longer felt like violent resistance. So gradually his returning gaze hardened into one of tentative confidence, and he straightened slightly to stand a little taller. The effect was somewhat lost as he still was wearing an apron with an arm full of dirty plates, and looked pretty pretty beat up with his bruises and messy ponytail.

Akaturiaph sensed the rising tension in her rider, and lunged without reservation into his gaze, taking in the form of I'dou with critical eyes. She crouched tensely outside the caverns, and hissed at a passerby. If this led to another fight, she wouldn't miss a moment of it. She would be there to lend her rider strength and purpose. K'ii was broken out of the staring contest by the sudden forceful presence of his green in his mind, and he blinked his eyes rapidly to clear his thoughts. Akaturiaph's urge for antagonistic behavior left him feeling tired of struggle and battle, at least for the day. He broke his gaze with the gray winglet to glance pointedly at the bottle and back, and offered in hushed conspiratory tones. "Our secret?"

[winged]

The play of emotions enlivening the boy's face provided some modicum of amusement for the gray rider. That alone, perhaps, tipped what could potentially spell a cranky mood into moderately accepting benevolence. He certainly didn't play into subtlety - I'dou could have told him precisely when his fears of her 'prestige' floundered into obstinate refusal. Still not relenting her grasp of the wine bottle, the woman instead drew it close to her bosom, cradling it there for a moment while her free hand groped for a nearby goblet, tipping and pouring a generous amount of the sweetly scented liquid freely into the untouched cup. She studied it for a moment, doing her very best not to relent a single inch of her carefully sculpted, vaguely flavored expression to the humor that had bubbled up upon seeing K'ii's reaction.

She could not profess to stamina of Ro'za's renown, however, and eventually I'dou set the goblet with a little excessive force in front of the green rider, some of the precious wine slopping over the vaulted sides of its container. She said nothing, but the offer was plainly set before him - he could sit and partake, or he could continue working and prove himself a studious and morally charged, if predictably boring, individual. Personally, I'dou hoped for something a little more entertaining than she'd originally envisioned.

She wouldn't say a word. Not until K'ii made his decision, and in the meantime she might as well indulge a bit herself. The cup she'd claimed prior was now sloshing with the rich wine, and she took a long draught at the first, grimacing a little as the potency of the alcohol teased tastebuds long since grown dull. When had she been drinking last? Another gulp, and she had her answer. The Feast - and she'd swallowed enough down to knock herself out properly. Carefully keeping her eyes fixated on some distant point, the gray rider kept tabs regardless on her potential company's state of existence. Was he still hovering? He'd better make up his mind soon, lest she decide to move on - or maybe drink herself into a daze. It all rode on her whim of the moment, which was swaying quite melodramatically at the breeze, apt to tumble on either side of the fence.

Tick, tock.

[zeis]

K'ii watched with tired but wary eyes as I'dou poured a drink, wavering between a flight or fight response. On one hand, he felt tired, bruised, and used enough to crave the pleasant buzz that alcohol brought. However drink also made a person prone to unwise behavior, and getting into another fight today, this time with the up and coming Phoenix sounded like a very fine wise decision. But the red-head had never been a particularly wise person. When the wine was set in front of him, he put the plates down on the empty table space beside him, and took a seat with a slight screech of wooden legs on stone. If there was anything he had learned on the streets with N'raan, it was to never look a gift horse in the mouth.

He lifted the goblet to his lips and drank one long greedy pull, spilling a droplet of the ruby liquid down his chin. He set the cup down hastily and coughed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve with his customary lack of manners. The green-Winglet relaxed visibly, and turned his similarly green eyes back on his mysterious benefactor for a few moments, curious. He was fine with letting the silence stretch between them as they enjoyed their ill-gained liquor, occasionally shooting furtive glances around the kitchen to make sure no authoritative faces he knew had strode in without him noticing. He had no desire to get in further trouble today, despite Akaturiaph's urging.

When their cups had grown low, he leaned across the table and snatched the bottle, refilling it and hers without really asking. As he enjoyed this drink more slowly than the first, he felt his green simourv gradually losing interest and retreating her place behind his eyes. He was careful to guard the relief he felt when she was gone, since she had a tendency, as much as he loved her, to make things worse. He slurped a bit more wine, and sniffed, before offering his hand across the table to the other Winglet, a greeting finally after all that silence.

"K'ii."