03: In Like A Lion

[theriflespiral]

01: Pancake Week (Elysium)
Much as she despises the Orthodox Church, there was one tradition, Natalia thinks, with which she can truck, and that is the week before Lent being Pancake Week.

She has a small Ether stove and a little chalk sign: IT'S PANCAKE WEEK! Deliver a pancake! Ask me how!, with a small list of fillings, and a drawing of a penguin carrying a pancake wrapped around little herrings and a pleased expression.

Although, the ability to deliver a pancake, still warm, without breaking it, is a hell of a statement for a shipping company to make...


02: To Dance As The Queen Does
Once more, Natalia listens to distantly piped jazz and taps the rhythm carefully, gathering Ether, ice swirling in her hands as she moves to the beat.

And, once again, as her mind fills with other things, the spell breaks, sending little bits of powder snow all across the improvised dance floor, to evaporate.

She hums in annoyance. Of course, by now, surely someone would hear soft or hard jazz and come to investigate.


03: Unfurling Inner Lotus
While much of her time is given to maintaining her front or honing her marksmanship and spellcraft, time must be given to conditioning her body.

This is risky, because unlike the other forms of training, to do it she must engage her energies at their fullest. This is less a risk of her being hurt-- no more than usual-- but rather a risk of discovery; for no one notices a girl with black hair and black eyes, but a girl with blue stars shining in her eyes? Now that has been seen once or twice, to say nothing about how it might touch on the senses of those sensitive to Ether.

But it's the only way to make sure she's training to her utmost, and so utmost she must go-- keeping up with others, never mind the Empire, demands it.

Thus it is that someone as apparently light as Natalia Koutolika is now lifting sacks of shot that are obviously as heavy as she is, and tossing them some distance, besides.


04: Special Deliveries

This was the spot. Natalia stood on the deck of the Humboldt in the little shelter the rocks of the island made, and waited to make contact.

As much as she wanted to recover and utilize larger ships, even ships that might be better suited to the line (intentionally), ships like the little sea sloop were too useful for Penguin Logistics' other purpose: smuggling packages, people, and information.

Was her chronometer wrong? She kept a weather eye out. Who is meeting her? And for what?

Comments

[theriflespiral]

"Oh... Very well, I suppose. Though if people keep making a habit of it, perhaps I ought to take out a license for food sales? What filling?"

There's a lot of fish types of course, but also vegetables, cheeses, and... Ironhide Flank? Marked with a note-- 'HUNTED FRESH LOCALLY.'

[thunderwarden]

If she'd asked him two months ago, he would have forgone the Ironhide Flank, but Senshi has introduced him to realm of new culinary possibilities and you can color him curious. He strokes his chin thoughtfully for a moment.

"Give me an Ironhide Flank, lass. You've got me curious."

[theriflespiral]

Now she smirks, and produces... oh god that is NOT hyperbole. That is part of the skin of an Ironhide-- specifically the part that's actually got iron in it, carefully selected and stretched to resemble a pot via the use of bamboo ribs, in which she has opted for a low-and-slow cooking of some quite fatty meats and vegetables who can stand up to such slow steaming and boiling-- mostly squashes, but it looks like there's potato and onion in there, too.

She takes a scoop of it out, and it smells mostly of that and the kind of herbs you could grow in an apartment. the low, slow cook undoes the notoriously tough meat of the Ironhide, and the flavor profile, while somewhat familiar to regulars of Elysium, resembles something Shu might put together, albeit faintly.

Seal the crepe, wrap it in newsprint. Serve. "Most haven't taken me up on it, but I thought it tasted fine."

[thunderwarden]

Cid is a man who will try anything once, especially when it comes to food, and he doesn't balk at what the favor of things may be. He also recognizes when something is more than just the sustenance it's providing, that it's a symbol when it represents something someone built with their own hands rather than given to them by a system that oppressed them.

"Doesn't smell bad, love." Which in all honesty was an understatement. And then he folded back the newsprint and took a bite, working his jaw thoughtfully, as though deciding whether it's good or not. It's definitely not bad, and he's subsisted on a hell of a lot worse. He news, swallows, takes another bite. "I think more people ought to take you up on it."

[theriflespiral]

"I think they're a little put off by the theatre of it," Natalia says, nodding. "But I couldn't do it any other way, really."

[thunderwarden]

He chuckles at that, taking another bite and chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "Aye, most likely. Not just anyone would be fine eating meat stewed in the beast's own skin, but-" he lets the rest of his comment ride with a shrug. He doesn't mind.

Of course, he's also a strange one.

[theriflespiral]

Natalia hums. "Should I have refined it into a pot, first? Still, I can't just sit off the pier and spear-fish every day for the whole week... I'd get bored."

How could anyone tell!?

[thunderwarden]

He shakes his head. "On on your life, lass. This presentation has character. Anyone can use a pot." He smiles, winking slightly as though that's some sort of joke.

"Sounds like you need someone to spear-fish with."

[theriflespiral]

It's definitely the little things with her-- the way she nods along with a suggestion or the faint flourish of a hand, or, in this case, the way she's faintly taken aback by Cid's praise and implied offer.

To which, after a moment's hesitation, she says, "If you're offering, I certainly wouldn't mind."

[thunderwarden]

And Cid's survived in the various places he's lived and thrived both here and back home by noticing those subtle things. He smiles.

"I confess, never been spear-fishing in my life, but it never hurts to learn, eh?"

[theriflespiral]

"There is a small river I know near the city limits. If it's thawed enough, it should be possible... But, another time, perhaps." It's time to serve lunch; the couriers are starting to trickle in.

[thunderwarden]

"Aye, lass. I won't keep you, but drop me a line the next time you're game. I'll be there." He motions with his comm to indicate how.

"And thanks for the crepes. You've a talent for more than violence and that's more valuable."

[theriflespiral]

"Everyone has something they buried in the snow, I've found. Good fortune."