Rainblade-Ryalors Open Vulpinsula & Surroundings Westisle Cultural Appreciation Day

[Aramaeus Lemon]

As the party entered the tavern restaurant, scowls were exchanged all around, the atmosphere of tension breaking out into clear resentment between the golden-furred invitee and the rest of the younger entourage. As Orina greeted her fellow vice minister, however, Aramaeus's eyes widened, and he hurriedly straightened and dusted off his coat. "Vice Minister Bluemoon!" he greeted their host with an elaborate bow. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir!"

Mileya, in the meantime, hovered near the back with her brother, his beau, and their adoptive daughter. "Wait for us to be introduced," she murmured from the corner of her mouth. "Addressing a lord or minister without an introduction just makes a rat's tail of you - case in point," she subtly nodded to the golden fox unknowingly humiliating himself before one of the most powerful beasts in the Imperium.

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

What happened to poor Mr. Larsen happened so fast that he barely had time to register it. First, there was a commotion from inside the building -- and then he was swarmed with street kits. Even Finn, who was trying his best to keep the baker from looking inside the warehouse, couldn't help but wheel around at the sound of a rack falling over to gawk.

As the young dibbuns clammored guiltily before him, the baker threw his paws in the air, and pushed between Cricket and Finn. "Aww gates, there goes th' cooling rack..." he grumped, waddling towards the bakery. "Notch Ear, I told y'not to hang off th'cooling racks!" he chided, pulling his apron off to fan away the cloud of flour. "Now y've wasted all th'flour and I've gotta send y'out to get another bag! Th'Ministry of Niceties isn't made of gilders, don'cha know!"

Finn, however, didn't need a second reminder that it was time to leave. Mariel had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and Cricket was tugging him away. "BYEMRLARSENitwasgoodtoseeyouagainsorryaboutthecupcakesgottago!" he blurted out, dashing away into the alley with his cohort.

"Cupcakes? What'n the name of Vulpuz are y'talking about Fin--aww not again..." FOOM.

Suddenly, a ball of fire blew the bakerfox off his feet, knocking him flat on his back in the alley. His footpaws went up into the air with a cry, and seconds later he tipped over like a doll onto his seat. He patted his fur down exasperatedly, and teetered his way painfully back onto his feet. "NOTCH EAR! Ya left the rotten oven open again! What'd I tell you about open flames around large baking operations!? Awh gates lookatcher fur... ...that's gonna take a while to grow back."

Cool guys, as they say, don't look at explosions -- they just walk away. But it was hard to be a cool guy while stuffing pink frosted cupcakes in your kimono.

 

[Callisto Bluemoon]

Callisto and his entourage were not long waiting before company arrived. The wolverine’s expression brightened at the sight of the other Vice-Minister when she arrived, himself tall enough to observe those who followed her with professionally-veiled amusement. What an…intriguing assembly of beasts. His gaze darted briefly between the strange dynamics playing out (a curious intervention on the marten’s part) before focus was diverted back to Orina.

“Ah, Ms Emberkin! An absolute pleasure, as always.” Bending to return the gesture Callisto followed up to shake her paw. “I’m glad, as well: touch and go with Amarone, as always. I’m sure they’ll reel me back in eventually, so I fully intend to make the most of this change of pace. How have things been in Bully Harbour for you of late?”

Another voice interjected then, one from the assembly, and Callisto straightened up to regard the golden todd who had blurted his introduction. An inscrutable mask settled on his broad face. Any response was withheld for a beat to allow the youngster to stew in uncertainty before he looked once more to Orina. “The company you keep is certainly lively today. In the spirit of the celebrations, eh? Well met.” He inclined his head to Aramaeus and the other beasts before gesturing to those behind him. “I have in my own company Juneau Baudelaire, who works in the Hrumvet Hooper Building, and my personal assistant Fearne.”

Juneau inclined his head politely, first to Orina with a polite “madam” before acknowledging the other arrivals: the well-practiced gesture of one more than used to such level of introduction. Fearne, in her own nervousness, spoke not a word but dipped a quick curtsy and flashed a smile.

 

[Orina Emberkin]

Orina gave each of those introduced a nod and smile, completely ignoring Aramaeus for the moment. "Pleased to meet you both. Thank you for joining us this afternoon."

She turned to the side, gesturing to those she had brought with her. "Allow me to introduce the entourage I've collected today in my forays. The bold, golden one is Aramaeus Lemon of the Ministry of Justice. The other two vulpines are of the Ryalors, Daniil and Mileya, nephew and niece of the Minister of Innovation and Minister of Misanthropy. Mileya serves directly with the Empress herself in Amarone. Then we have the long-lost scion of the Freemont family, Caden Freemont, and his daughter Asta Dalgaard."

Caden's ear twitched as he withered internally, though it was the only external sign of his discomfort. The marten kept himself otherwise still and straight, gaze close enough to the wolverine to appear as though he was looking at him while he stepped forward and executed a perfect bow before straightening and addressing the vice minister with the well-practiced ease of a beast born to nobility.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Vice Minister. I must say, I did not expect to find myself in the company of one politician of such esteem today, much less two. I look forward to our discourse, as there is a great deal I have missed in Imperial politics during my long absence."

Asta stared at her adoptive father, then glanced at Mileya and Daniil, unsure what she was supposed to do.

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

Daniil was similarly hesitant, glancing to Caden for guidance before looking to his sister as she stepped forward and dipped into a curtsey. "It is an honor, Vice Minister Bluemoon," she addressed their host courteously. "I am certain that you would not remember me, but we became briefly acquainted at the Empress’s last jubilee. Your toast at the time was inspired, and many heard the Empress speaking quite fondly of you thereafter."

Daniil had to fight not to raise an eyebrow. He recognized what he'd come to think of as 'the Dusk voice', that slick manner of speaking that his aunt had instilled in Mileya for use in delicate social situations, slathering every word in honey to obscure any grit. He chose to follow Mileya wit a bow and a brief murmured greeting, though he refrained from extending a paw; he had made enough faux pas over the years to know that such was the host's prerogative. He did allow himself another glance at Caden, apprehensive as to what purpose the vice ministers could have in gathering them together. He hated being asked to speak on behalf of the Ryalors, especially since he only provisionally considered himself to be one. He was sure that Caden felt the same with the Freemonts.

Aramaeus, for his part, seemed to have no such reticence. "It is absolutely delightful to be acquainted with all of you," he declared, offering his paw to their hosts in breach of protocol. "You know, I was just thinking the other day that we should really be coordinating with the other ministries more. Now that the Ministry of Justice is established, it's so redundant, each ministry having their own investigative force. Really, it would make far more sense to fold all of the auditors and investigators into Justice, so we can pursue the cases on everyone's behalf, wouldn't you say?"

 

[Mariel Rustyfangs]

Mariel led the kit and the hatchling down the street, going a the pace that was leisure yet definitely fast. She... should've predicted that spilling lots of flour would make a firey explosion, after all, her mom did show her a bit of how to mix common ingredients into dangerous concoctions, calling it chemistry. The kitten felt actually quite sorry for it, her ears and tail slumped as she walked. She wanted to steal cupcakes, not destroy them and a warehouse. After all, as her mother said often, professionals have standards.

To Mariel it was however a sign also that there was yet aplenty to learn, she had a sharp mind and could think fast, but clearly her planning required... a bit of polish.

Or she could remain the bravado and just become the most lucky adventurer, easy enough, she thought.

Battling between the two, she led their group into an alleyway behind a trading house, one she knew very very well. It was her first real home after all, a place owned by her mother and also a proof of enormous love Naika had for Mariel, something that always made the kitten happy. Something which managed to cast away the memory of ablazed warehouse.

Now however she lived with her mother at a different place, yet following her teachings, she had multiple stashes and hideouts around the city. This one was the safest. She walked over to the part of the wall that was between two large crates with the logo of the trading house. Nothing too out of ordinary... Then she pushed the wall on the left side, rotating it and revealing a hidden entrance. Her mother was one very cautious cat.

"Come, it's not a long crawl and just one tunnel. You can't lose your way even if ya can't see in the dark! Just make sure to close the wall behind you!"

Then she went into the tunnel, very quickly finding herself in a secret room, one that was just enough to fit maybe two kits standing in it, but fortunately it was plenty vertical. Mariel's number one hideout was filled with hammocks and shelves to climb up as the room (more like a chimney) was at least two floors tall. Plenty of books were put wherever there was a spot for them as well as Mariel's drawings, writings, snacks and hundreds of little items. Cool sticks and rocks, small clay figurines, feathers, scales, shiny pebbles... One thing was certain, Mariel had a hoarding problem.

She climbed up the wall to get just high enough to let others enter. Then, waiting for their arrival, she started taking out the cupcakes licking her chops and preparing for the feast.

@FinnianBrightfur @Cricket

 

[Anastasia Ryalor]

Anastasia smiled coyly and listened as she watched and listened to the blind leopard dig in, fascinated by the unhinged ferocity at which this barbarian attacked her food and the confidence in which she asserted her fighting skills. The true princess doubted she possessed them anywhere near as much as she herself did, but that was not required for this mission, only enthusiasm and the perception of being harmless, which Korya fit. She gave a nod towards the bar tender to bring another round of sushi, along with more noodles.

“We can definitely do both,” she asserted “but tell me, how long would it take for you to cook a meal for, say, twenty or so? Full course. And would you require assistance?”

@Korya

 

[Korya]

"Full course..."

A strange expression crossed the little feline's face. She was thinking, which wasn't something she liked to do often, or for long periods of time.

"I have a single pot and a single pan, back home, and only a little sack of flour and some spices at the moment. I'd need to go to market, and that's... today... a bit of a rough journey for me. If I do full bowls of noodles, that's going to be... five pots of water, about... And full course, desert, salads, side dishes? Oof! Assistance would definitely be needed, and planning... For noodles, having some good bread to dip and dab with would be nice, and for good bread you need time to rise it... Er, I don't think I'll be able to do much more than noodles..."

Her ears drooped. She dabbed at herself with her knuckles, licked them clean, and groomed a little to make sure all the crisply little flakes of eggroll and sushi rice had been mopped up and devoured. But still, her ears drooped. She was just one little street noodle chef, how could she possibly do catering for a princess's diplomatic mission?

"I'm afraid you might have the wrong beast, I'm sorry..."

 

[Anastasia Ryalor]

Anastasia’s smile deepened as she watched the leopard suddenly turn serious when it came to the talk of business. For all her eccentricities, she was, in her own odd way, a warrior where food was concerned, and that is something she could respect. No, she think she had the right beast indeed.

“Oh, no, I think you sell yourself much too short. All of that can be provided for you, if you are up to give some beasts a little direction in how to prepare what is needed.” Anastasia positively beamed. “I have access to quite a few resources today, and I think you would be an excellent partner to have in the future.”

The Supremacists will in no way suspect this little leopardess as being the instrument of their destruction.

@Korya

 

[Callisto Bluemoon]

As Orina introduced her eclectic entourage, Callisto allowed himself the opportunity to make assessments which he could mull over later. There were a number of beasts in attendance from several influential corners of the Imperium and he was keen not to play his paw too hastily around such beasts.

What a gathering Orina had accrued: it spoke as much about her ability to network across the web of the city as it did the manner of beasts within it. He’d spent some time in Bully Harbour over the years though work had often required he be posted elsewhere. Many rumours and comments on the beasts had come from his tenure in Maquisty Cape, and swiftly he was beginning to discern which were hyperbole and which held truth.

The Freemont jack introduced himself and the other mustelid inclined his head in polite acknowledgement, first to Caden and then his daughter. The Freemonts, at least, were a familiar name to him: he was curious to say the least though today would not be the one to pry. Still, he noted it – and the practiced ease of a noble. Having faced the unpleasant challenge of needing to learn the intricacies of high society’s expectations himself, such was not lost on him. “A pleasure indeed, sir. I look forward to it, also: my information comes from Amarone, so I look forward to refreshing myself more with the city and its politics proper.”

Amber eyes turned next on the vixen with the unique coat, offering a further polite half-bow. “Ah, now how could I forget a Ryalor? Mileya, was it not?” Experience had taught the benefit of collecting names, but a striking look such as hers, paired with that family name, had gone a long way to help such. “You are too kind, madam. I’d always enjoy a conversation with you on your thoughts as to the goings-on in Amarone: ‘tis rare to see a beast with such knowledge outside of the walls, these days.” The todd beside her seemed as uncertain of what to do with himself as Caden’s daughter. He made mental note to sit Fearne closer to them when the time came, for she was likewise.

Juneau, meanwhile, was momentarily taken aback by the brashness of Aramaeus. The ferret had begun to open his mouth with an admonishment ready when the Vice-Minister half-raised a large paw. He resolved to offer thin-lipped silence and a set jaw. Callisto, meanwhile, took the offered paw and gave it a hearty squeeze. This fox was either an imbecile or playing some sort of game and he was determined to discover exactly which by the end of the day. Either way the golden todd might yet have some utility by being tied to Justice: better to keep him sweet.

“A forward-thinker, indeed,” he chuckled. “I admire your drive, for which Justice must surely be in appreciation of, but I fear we are getting rather ahead of ourselves with such bold ideas., are we not? A glance to Orina, wondering if this was an intention of hers. “I believe our table should be ready, and I do so prefer a robust conversation over a glass of wine.”

 

[Korya]

Korya's face scrunched up.

"Like... head chef?" she said, slowly, the full weight of the concept unravelling in her mind. "Ordering beasts around?" She started to perk up again, bouncing a little. "Yelling at them, throwing pots that aren't perfect? Complaining that things aren't cooked right?!" She jabbed the air with her fists again. "Getting to taste everything as it cooks?!"

She leapt off the stool, smashed into the next one, knocking it over, and carried on with only a little stumbling.

"I can do that! Let's go!"

 

[Orina Emberkin]

While many beasts cringe from secondpaw embarrassment at social faux pas, Orina was not that sort of beast. As Aramaeus bumbled through his untimely introduction and overly zealous pontification, she had to hide a smile. When Callisto turned his gaze towards her, however, she allowed herself a small smirk that reflected in her eyes more than around her lips, hoping the wolverine would catch on to the social games she was playing with this particular group.

"Finding our seats would be delightful, thank you Vice Minister," she said smoothly. The squirrel lifted a paw to squeeze Aramaeus' shoulder and steer him alongside her as the host led them to their table.

Caden fell in between Mileya and Daniil, keeping Asta just ahead of him. He muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Mileya. "I have to admit, I am a bit rusty on the social rankings of beasts when it comes to seating in such a setting. And does anyone else get a weird feeling about how that squirrel is treating us? Maybe I've been out of the higher echelons too long and they're all just strange to me at this point. If either of you get seated near that todd, though, would it be rude of me to insist I take your place? I at least don't think he should be near you, Mileya, something about him feels off."

Asta clutched the koto to herself, trying to keep the instrument from hitting anybeast around her. Her heart thumped in her chest, suddenly thrust into a situation in which she had no experience from which draw on. Matters of nobility and rank and prestige were far beyond her humble origins, and she could not keep her eyes from wandering to the massive wolverine. She had never seen such a beast before. So focused was she on him, that she stumbled directly into a server bearing a tray of fine glassware and a bottle of wine.

Glass and wine bottle went crashing to the ground in a cacophony of shattering and crunching. A stream of Varangian curses and then Varangian apologies flew from Asta's mouth before she could stop herself, her Vulpinsulan language capacity completely lost in her utter mortification.

 

[Mileya Ryalor]

Mileya had just opened her mouth to agree with Caden's suggestion when Asta collided with a server, producing a collision that had every head in the room turning. Immediately she grabbed her new friend to keep her from moving and stepping onto the shattered glass. "A thousand apologies," she added to the mix, hugging Asta and the koto to steady them both. "Please, bill this to our table." It didn't look to be a cheap bottle (nothing in this place was cheap), but if their host didn't volunteer to cover the cost, Mileya could always pay it herself, or at least have the bill sent to her aunt and uncle. After all, it wasn't as if she asked them for much; quite the opposite, actually.

Daniil, startled by the sound, had reflexively grabbed Caden, watching Asta in alarm and unaware of his paw resting on Caden's chest in a way that was a bit too familiar for even good friends. Fortunately, Aramaeus made a spectacle of himself immediately afterward, drawing attention away from the pair. He went straight for the chair at Callisto's right paw side, sitting himself down and bypassing several tiers of status in his eagerness to join the vice minister.

"Jolly poor performance, that," he remarked of the server's plight, entirely too blasé and devoid of concern. "You know, you'd think by know that Innovation would have come up with some sort of new self-balancing tray to prevent spills like this. Certainly makes you wonder what they're doing with all those gilders, eh?" He elbowed the (arguably) eighth most powerful beast in the Imperium with a playful familiarity that was entirely unearned.

 

[Callisto Bluemoon]

It all happened so quickly: no sooner had Callisto pulled back a chair for Orina there came the crash of glass. He turned, momentarily startled before the scene made sense. Were he in an empathic mood he might have recalled his own clumsy dealings with the upper echelons when he was a new Jarl trying to make his way in the Imperium. How delicate crystal glass seemed to be in his claws; how easily chairs would creak, or his tail knock against important artworks or ceramics. He’d torn more fabrics than he’d care to admit and still did. Callisto was, however, in public: to handle things graciously but without over-emphasis on the matter would be key.

Appearances being everything, the Vice-Minister was loath to act as though he could not afford the wasted extravagance. He waved a large paw. “Bill it to the table, indeed. Please bring another for our guests.” The wolverine flashed Asta what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Accidents happen, do not worry.”

The chair intended for his fellow Vice-Minister was occupied before he could so much as blink: Callisto could have laughed at the todd’s impudence, let alone the physical gesture. On the one paw it was refreshing to have a beast shameless enough that none of the rules mattered; on the other there was still propriety to attend to in such esteemed company. He still needed the fox on-side, though, keen as he was on forging some fresh link with Justice he could later exploit, and so he offered no audible upbraiding.

Instead, it was all communicated through action. One footpaw braced itself on a chair leg and he extended his own limb, effortlessly pushing both Aramaeus and his chair further down the table to make room for Orina as he continued the conversation. “Some of those in Innovation rather like to consider themselves a mystery above the law of the common beast, but fear not: the finances are closely watched and their results pay dividends in the long-run, if one can keep them to task.” It was as tactful as he was willing to be without spitting his ire about the Vice-Minister of that particular branch of government. “But, alas, we do not have a beast within Innovation here to give us clearer insight, which is a shame. I’d be delighted to hear more about Niceties, however. I hear things have been quite lively in the Harbour, of late.”

 

[Orina Emberkin]

Asta looked as though she wished to disappear completely. Tears sprung to her eyes as she leaned into Mileya, still frozen. Caden's heart was pounding, though he did not know why he was reacting so strongly. His paw twitched for his blade despite that there was no threat to life or limb. He swallowed hard and instead squeezed Daniil's paw reassuringly before breaking away from the todd and going to Asta.

"Hey, little star," he said reassuringly in Varangian, reaching a paw to her. "Everything is alright. This kind of thing happens."

She turned wide, shining eyes to him and grasped for his paw. When the Vice Minister of Commerce spoke, Caden felt her grip tighten in fear. But the wolverine only spoke with more reassurance, and then the Vice Minister of Niceties followed with her own pleasant smile and encouragement.

"They do, indeed. Here, why don't we get somebeast to help you with that instrument, hm?" Orina waved over another server and directed him to Asta and the koto. The young jill hesitated, but at a nod from Caden, she released the koto and allowed the weasel server to take it.

With the large instrument taken and placed elsewhere to save space and remove the potential for more kinetic accidents, Orina smoothly interjected herself in the spot cleared by Callisto, pulling a chair into the empty space. On the other side of Aramaeus, Caden sat down with haste to keep the fox from insisting anybeast else ought to occupy the empty chair beside him. The jack gave Daniil and Asta a small, apologetic shrug and gently motioned with his head and flick of an ear for them to follow Mileya's lead.

One curious eye on the others, Orina turned the rest of her attention to Callisto. "Lively indeed. I've had my paws full trying to get ready for the Minister's birthday. Getting Niceties and Misanthropy to cooperate on security for the event has been a headache I really didn't need." Her blue eye gleamed playfully. "I at least have the opportunity to do some liaising this evening at the Niceties sponsored event. You received an invite, did you not?"

 

[Anastasia Ryalor]

“Indeed, let’s!” Anastasia replied encouragingly, a wicked smile on her face as she finished up her food, and took a glance at the shop keeper, who simply bowed and showed no expectation of payment. That was good, at least her father and mother had made sure the Fyadoran immigrant population knew their proper place. That was in stark contrast to her dealings on the mainland, where she often had to remind the locals of their obligations to their true, timeless rulers, or the clueless barbarians of this Imperium.

Yet, even I must admit, some of these beasts are surprisingly resourceful, and we can learn from them. Perhaps there is something to the idea that they can be tamed and civilized for our interests, indeed, the price to do so does not seem so high, as with this leopard.

It took a bit of persistence, and more than a little reminding to many of the Westislanders and Fyadorans street vendors by her and her beasts that their obligation to their true royalty did not stop regardless of wherever they were in the world, but they soon acquired quite a team of chefs, dressed in the curious style of this place, in the rather large kitchen of a particularly successful Fyadoran restaurant, where Anastasia had parked Korya with the owners to get familiar with the kitchen while she...persuaded...a suitable team to work for her. And reminded them to obey the leopard as if she were herself, and face the consequences if they dared to defy her in anything.

And I have my beasts working on a rather special cake for the finale...which I hope to make quite dazzling.

She did, however, decide to stick around and observe the other “rebellious daughter” command her own little “army” as it were, and was quite pleased with the results. Korya was rather ruthless and perfectionistic in her demands, something that she herself was quite pleased to see. It was not her field of expertise, she had never had the culinary skill of her other sister or cousins, except when it came to cupcakes, but she could appreciate the iron of another “general” when she saw one. When everything was prepared, a cool smile came across her lip as the sun began to set and the evening activities began.

“Hime…” one of her entirely black-clad, and black-furred, ninjas said deferentially, and with his head bowed, out of earshot as Korya made her final preparations “we have discovered the precise location as you have requested. And acquired the necessary code...but…”

She turned her sharp, blue eyes at him “But?”

“...the original group bringing their dinner before their operation….did not give up such easily. As a result, they...passed away...soon after interrogation. We were unable to gain any more information on Rest-”

Anastasia’s right paw flashed like lightning, and was soon coiled around the throat of her subordinate, with a grip of iron.

“Haruto, Haruto…” she began softly, turning to face him as she did so “...you and the others were given one, simple task. Get me the code for this little gathering of theirs, and find the information my father wanted on the group of Vulpinists who dared to strike out at him. But you have failed me on the second part. You know what the normal punishment would be.” She cooed, increasing her grip so that he could barely breathe, and even began to slightly choke. “Mistakes like these cost us the Jade Throne and have constantly set us back from retaking it.”

She studied him for a moment, then sighed as she released her grip, with Haruto gasping for breath as he quickly assumed the dogeza pose in apology.

“Yet, your Hime is merciful, and knows that your failure was only because of your enthusiasm. Remember, Haruto, that when forging a sword, one must be careful not to hammer it so hard as to cause the metal to shatter.”

“Yes, Hime. I sincerely apologize.”

She gave him a cold smile, then nodded.

“Get up then, and assume positions on the rooftops and in the alleyways around that building. Since we no longer have captives to extract the information we need, we will need to grab at least one of them, preferably the leader, to get what we need.”

“Of course, Hime.” Haruto bowed as lowly as he could, before exiting the kitchen.

Soon, Korya seemed ready, and looking at the rather delicious looking spread assembled in so short of time, the Princesss of Fyador was pleased.

“Oh, this will be more than enough, more than enough. I am very satisfied, Korya. But we must hurry now, the time for dinner is almost upon us!” She exclaimed with a genuine enthusiasm...not so much for the food, but to see what the results of her plan would be.

@Korya

 

[Korya]

Korya was lost in a dream. Life whirled around her, smells she could barely pick out, sounds blurring together into chaos, heat and wind buffeting her little body about. She danced along with it all, dizzy and breathless, her paws everywhere. There was no bowl she did not dip her nose into, no spoon she didn't get to lick, no pot she didn't help stir.

"This fish paste needs more spicy! More anchovy, too! How long has that water been boiling? These noodles are crunchy, how long have they been dried out for? Two more minutes! What is this? I asked, nay, demanded for shrimp! Get this lobster out of here! Boiled?! You need to sautee the broccoli, not boil it! I'll boil your fat head! Pastries, why aren't these iced yet? Feel this one, see how dry it is? Obviously not! I'm blind and I can see how dry it is better than you! Why don't you listen to how dry it is, that's right, put it up against your ear - and the other one, too! Now, what are you?"

"A dunderclod sandwich, ma'am."

"And don't you forget it! Slice the carrots lengthwise, not across! Carrot noodles is what we're after! Where is the tiramisu? This? This is a butterscotch pudding, do you even know what coffee looks like? Well don't ask me - use your snout, your mother didn't spend all those months growing you one for you to ignore it, although it seems she forgot to grow you a brain during the process! Wow, that was mean of me, I'm sorry. No, I take it back, this salad needs to lose the radishes, you're an idiot. It's a cream dressing, not an oily dressing! Well, not the way I like it, and we're doing it my way today, so start over! WHY DO I SMELL BURNING?! Get that pheasant basted, we're not making jerky, we're making smoked kebabs! What witless bastard child of Vulpuz put green beans in the rice, I said green peas, you addlepated peasant loaf!"

A girl could get used to this, she thought happily.

She wondered again what green was, exactly. Apparently so many things were green - such as half the staff, considering they didn't seem to know the basics of making a single dish!

Her throat felt hoarse by the time it was all prepared and over, and she went around shaking the paws of all the cooks and chefs and thanking them, although a few of them got a nose tweak as well for stressing her out. Because today she could get away with it.

She held a cold-water washcloth to her right paw as she waited for Anastasia to inspect the meals, her various burn-blisters throbbing. When she got her own kitchen, she decided, she would spend time getting more familiar with the shape of it all so she wasn't accidentally touching so many hot things.

"Ooh, I'm so excited," she squealed, "I do hope your friends enjoy everything we've put together... Alright you lot! Come on, let's pack it up and get it ready - where's it going, anyway?"

 

[Anastasia Ryalor]

“The White Vixen Tavern, they have it booked up. Thankfully, it is not too far away, though the time is short, so I suggest we head out quickly.” Anastasia replied pleasantly, for she indeed was pleased and, in a way, felt as if the leopard were a kindred spirit with how she brooked no dissent in her domain and ruthlessly accomplished her objectives with quality and without delay. A reminder that there were indeed different kinds of strength. Interesting-maybe there were things she could learn from this Imperium after all.

Soon, the party began their short journey over to the relatively nice tavern, albeit one that was owned, and staffed, exclusively by foxes-the only place Vulpine Supremacists would eat at, of course. Her beasts watched her, carefully from the rooftops, but she was unafraid as she marched, armed only with her sword that may very well be taken from her, into the foxes’ den. Unlike the rest of her siblings and her parents, she took more after her granduncle, a true Fyadoran. They all feared death, which is why they failed at so many things and were so weak, but she accepted it, and in that, she had found her true freedom. Not that she sought to spend her life wastefully, of course. It had to serve a purpose, and she had much higher purposes to aim for than today.

Granduncle, you would be ashamed of how father had turned out. He finally stood up for himself for once against you, only to bend the knee to that foreign vixen and humiliate our mother. Alwyn, too, spending more time with vixens and being a glorified bodyguard as the heir than preparing for our return to our rightful place. Do not worry, though, I will carry on your legacy even if the rest of my family is too weak.

Once they arrived, she knocked on the door, and a small slit soon opened it, glancing out at he

“Password?” The beast behind the door said skeptically.

“Swordfish.” She replied without hesitation.

The beast behind the door grunted, and a series of locks could be heard clicking until the door finally opened. A large, burly young fox, along with two more, behind him could be seen looking at her skeptically.

“What is all of this? And why are you dressed as such?”

Anastasia smiled at him pleasantly, giving him a little diminutive bow as she did so.

“Reston thought that heroes such as yourself deserved a good meal tonight before your...festivities. And, is it not the season to wear such garb, so as to better blend in?”

The fox gave her a long, hard stare, but she did have the correct password, and what she said did make sense. They had been planning this for a long time, and more than a few of them might die carrying out what they needed to do. A suitable last meal… he nodded.

“I will have to take your weapons from you, of course…?”

“Anastasia. Even this old thing?” Anastasia replied playfully, swishing her tail as she held out her sheath. “It is a nice replica I got.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, orders are orders.”

She gave him a disappointed pout, then smiled and handed over her blade.


“That’s a good lass.” He nodded, then peered around here. “Hey, wait a moment, what is-”

“This is Korya Preykova, an excellent chef…” She motioned for him to be quiet, then waved her paws in front of Korya’s eyes, which showed no reaction. The fox looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded in understanding “she is very eager to serve you today, knowing her proper place.”

The fox paused for a bit, and this was the gamble. Vulpine Supremacists came in all shapes and colors, from ones who wanted to purge the land of every non-vulpine, to those who sought “merely” to have all the other species know their place and serve them. Her words here had a double meaning-one for Korya, who would indeed know her place as a server and as a chef, and one for the fox and his compatriots, who, if they were inclined to the latter as she thought Reston’s group tended to be, would think Korya understood her proper place in the social hierarchy.

“Well now…” He said, sizing up the diminutive leopard, an odd sort of respect going towards her-most beasts had to be beaten or forced into accepting their proper role, but this one was smart enough to do it all on her own.“...it is a rare thing to see a beast who knows where she fits in the world. By all means, go on ahead then, Ms. Preykova, but I will have to request that you leave any weapons here with me. You can, however, keep your kitchen utensils.”

@Korya @Dusk Rainblade (just to see Anastasia and her thoughts)

 

[Korya]

"No can do," said Korya, pushing her cart inside. "My paws don't come off."

She gave a feral little grin and made a fist, kissing her knuckles.

"I'll keep 'em sheathed though, they're only here for giving out food! Unless somebeast gets rowdy with me..."

What a strange conversation, she thought mildly. Passwords and orders and strange pauses... Did she know her place? Not really! In fact, she didn't quite know where any place was in this place. She tilted her head, perking her ears, sniffing deeply. Odd. Very odd.

Most places in Bully Harbour, and in fact, everywhere she'd ever been, smelled like a variety of beasts. Even her own bed at home had a vaguely weasel-scented musk to it from the maids fixing up the sheets. But this place... this place only smelled like foxes. it was strong, overwhelming, not muted by any other species' scent, and it made her hackles raise slightly.

It was probably just a fox party, she told herself, as she asked for directions to the tables that needed setting up. Once on her way, she started carefully pulling dishes off the cart and setting them out. She felt more than heard somebeast step close to her, heard a jostle of plates, and reached out to smack a paw. She missed and clipped the forearm, but felt proud that she got close.

"Tut! No desert until after. Spoil your appetite."

She listened as they scampered off, and a slight murmur rose from nearby. She ignored it and continued, pushing the cart along next to the table, making sure each little section had the same dishes. Soon, the smell of foxes was wilted by the overpowering spice of her noodles and the half a dozen other dishes. Smoked meats, creamy salads, cream-drizzled sweet rolls... If she hadn't eaten again while overseeing the cooking, she would have been tempted to scarf down a whole dish here and now herself!

The settings were a little... disorderly. She was doing her best, but without a clear idea of everything, there were gaps between some collections of dishes, some clustered together too closely, others partly mixed with two salad bowls and two noodle bowls each on the wrong side. But she gamely continued, ears standing tall with pride at her accomplishments. Even if she was play-acting as the butler right now... it was fun!

Right up until the moment she knocked over a full wine glass by setting down a plate of fried rice without first feeling that the table was empty...