Surprise in the Pantry Who: Marcus and Churat When: Anesus 4, 12:00 PM Where: first floor, pantry
It had definitely been an eventful morning. Marcus had nearly fallen to what would have been an unpleasant death, had banged his elbow to the point that it was quite swollen, and had participated in performing a spell. Even if in the most passive of ways, he'd helped! The spell might've been completely gross, but it had worked, and he'd met a new potential friend. He'd eventually wandered back to his room, unsure what to do about the pantry duty he was supposed to have since he couldn't get downstairs. Once he'd ventured out again, he'd discovered Tayne and several people he didn't know putting the finishing touches on a rope ladder of sorts that could be used to get downstairs.
It wasn't any easy feat to climb down the rope with his elbow the way it was, though he felt fortunate that it had just about gone numb. He heaved a sigh as his feet touched the stone floor, brushed blond hair out of his eyes and headed for the kitchen and pantry area.
Marcus wasn't clear on specifically what he was expected to do there, but hopefully some sort of instructions would be provided. He wanted to be sure not to miss his task for the day, and his steps were quick as he made his way across the huge expanse of kitchen floor to the door behind which he knew the pantry to be. He turned the knob and stepped through the entrance, squinting as he found it to be dimmer than he'd imagined.
So Churat hadn't exactly missed the face that it was raining... it just hadn't quite computed. The shadows were being particularly loud and distracting, his mind felt a little fuzzy, and rain or not, he was hiding someplace dark and relatively quiet from the day, huddled in the back where it was definitely going to be safe. No windows, no doors, just darkness and the occasional light when the door opened. Just to be sure.
He'd been bothered a few times, first when the morning shift on pantry-guard duty came in and freaked out a little to find him there-- then went from fear to laughter and left him there for anyone who wanted in to be surprised by. He'd wanted to growl at the mockery, tell whoever wanted to use him for their own amusement that it was wrong, but he kept getting distracted.
When the door opened again, he shrank back, trying to be invisible. The darkness wasn't being very helpful today, not deigning to help him hide, but maybe if whoever it was-- all he could make out was a silhouette-- didn't come in too far, he'd be all right.
As soon as Marcus got fully inside the pantry, he began to feel... peculiar. He stopped, squinting even harder as he tried to see what lay in front of him. He reached a tentative hand out to see if there was anything right in front of him and then to one side, and promptly jumped as his fingers brushed the edge of a wooden shelf. "Sheesh," he mumbled. He was scaring himself, and all because he thought he might've heard something. Maybe just because it was dark.
It was true that his hearing was a little more acute than average, something that had always been attributed to his poor eyesight, and it wasn't so easy for him to dismiss the uneasy feeling he had. Marcus took another couple of steps into the room, hoping his vision would adjust to the light (mostly lack of) in here. "This is great," he whispered to himself. "I don't know what I'm s'posed to do in here, and now I'm jumping at shadows."
Churat had been fully intending to shrink even further back and say nothing, not wanting to scare the boy-- he could hear him talking, now; definitely a boy, and... one he knew. Even less reason to scare him.
Except the shadows had other ideas.
"What do you think you do, boy? You make sure nothing is missing and nothing goes missing. You are a glorified food-shepherd."
Churat clapped both hands over his mouth at the dry, slightly mocking, even slightly feminine version of his voice that came out. "Mexecal!" he hissed under his breath, behind his hands. "Hush!"
It was all Marcus could do not to shrink back to the lighted doorway when he heard the voice. He didn't recognize it, couldn't really tell if it was male or female, and he unconsciously crossed his arms, cradling his injured elbow in one hand. He stood his ground, even as his body tensed so he could run if he had to. "How would I know?" he argued, though his voice remained low. "I'm new here. Nobody told me what exactly pantry duty was."
He'd never enjoyed being expected to know things without being told, and that was what seemed to happen around here a lot. At least, so far anyway. Marcus stared into the darkness of the far corner, chewing on one side of his lower lip for a few seconds. "You know, no offense or anything? But you're kind of giving me the creeps. Why're you hiding in the dark?"
"I'm sorry. I'm... I'm supposed to be in the basement now," Churat stammered, mortified, fingers tangling in his hair in frustration and upset. "Away from the windows. I just... got stuck. With the staircases gone, and all. I'm sorry."
And he still wasn't coming out into the light, though he knew he should. The shadows were safer.
Are we, now?
Some shadows were safer.
"It's me. Churat. Sorry, I'm kind of... yeah. The dark is safer than the windows."
Oh. Of course. Churat was a Vrykola, and he probably wasn't the only one who'd gotten stuck out of the basement once the stairs had vanished. Marcus relaxed a little, exhaling a mostly silent breath. He felt less discombobulated now that he knew who was back there and that it was someone to whom he'd actually spoken before.
"Sorry, I didn't recognize you," he said. "Do they do things like this all the time? I almost fell from the second floor to the first this morning, and it was really... not the most fun I've ever had." That was a colossal understatement. Marcus moved closer to where the Vrykola was lurking; while his eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dimness, it wasn't enough. It wouldn't be when one could barely see under optimum conditions.
"That's all right, that's... understandable." Especially since it had been Mexecal talking, and not him, the first thing he'd said. Of course that would be confusing. His voice didn't change that much, but it changed enough that someone who had only met him once probably wouldn't recognize it.
Forcing himself to give a little, since Marcus was, Churat took a hesitent step closer to the light, hugging himself nervously. "This is the first time the stairs disappeared, but it's often strange things like that, always unexpected...." He could remember quite a few equally unexpected tests. He'd been stuck on upper floors during the day before, because of them. Ugh. "I'm sure by now they've set up something that you can get up and down with." The final year compound dwellers were resourceful like that.
Well, some of them, anyway.
"Are you all right?" Marcus asked, after peering at the Vrykola and attempting to make out his expression. He seemed nervous or upset, maybe both. Of course, it was possible that it was just being cut off from the needed darkness of the downstairs. He hadn't been around Vrykolas enough to know for sure.
"Yeah, there's a rope," he told Churat, one hand lifting to push his hair out of his eyes again. "Tayne and a couple other people got it set up to go from the second floor to the first. They probably have something where you could get downstairs by now, too." He hadn't looked, having had no reason to want to go downstairs, particularly since he'd wanted to get to his work assignment for the day as soon as he could. "I'm not really happy about climbing back up it later, but I guess I'll manage. They prob'ly won't put the stairs back, right?" He figured Churat would know about how the challenges worked since he'd been here for a while. It was nice to have acquaintances (friends?) who weren't brand new, too.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, just-- just a little on edge, that's all." Churat waved off the concern awkwardly, with even a little hand-wave to go with it-- just barely discernable in the murk, probably even less so for poor Marcus.
A little on edge.
Hey, leave him alone.
What?
... it's funny. You start harping on it, and he might stop.
Should've known you weren't going to be defending him.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Churat muttered at them, then shook his head vigorously and tried to answer Marcus. "Sorry. Um. Well, the staircases will probably be back, actually. In a day or two, same time something new comes along. That's usually how it works: things get taken away, then given back when they're done seeing what we do about them."
Sometimes I think it's just a cruel experiment, not a place for us to learn anything....
On edge. Well, okay, Marcus could understand that. Being a Vrykola trapped on one of the two top floors could definitely be troublesome. He was still on edge, himself, from what had happened early this morning. But was Churat on edge enough to be talking to himself? Marcus was puzzled at the way he'd started mumbling just after he'd said that. He wondered if all Vrykolas were this easily distracted, and he decided he'd have to meet some more so he could find out.
"What bothers me about it," Marcus said thoughtfully, "is that it's really dangerous. What do they do if someone gets hurt here, or if they get sick?" He didn't remember hearing about any kind of a physician at the meeting, but that didn't mean there wasn't one or that he hadn't just missed it. It was a question worth asking, he thought. People were here for six years. It wasn't reasonable to think that everyone would stay perfectly healthy for that long.
"Oh, there are healers," Churat said quickly enough. "Not all of them are very good, but there are human mages who do it, Lykos herbalists, even Vrykola healers. We're pretty good with gashes and things, and all."
All you have to do is lick it. Ugh.
Humans are so squeamish.
Yes we are, and I'm glad to be so.
"People can die here, though," Churat continued, a little more quietly. "They try not to let it happen--"
You think.
Churat nodded and amended, "Well, I think they try not to let it happen. But sometimes it does."
"Healers!" Marcus seized on that word with relief, his mind glossing over what Churat said next about some of them not being that good. Of course they'd have healers. They wouldn't let an entire compound of people be at risk without having those who could heal if needed. He was quick to lean toward the optimistic view of a situation when one was presented, and he took the Vrykola's words as optimism. "Do you have a kind of magic for cuts?" he asked curiously, ever having heard this before. Of course, he'd never been around Vrykolas before, so he wouldn't have any idea.
A faint chill ran through him at the older boy's next words. People can die here.
Death was a part of life, sure, but it was one that Marcus didn't spend any undue time thinking about. "I guess it's like anywhere. Things can happen sometimes," he said. Things that he hoped wouldn't happen here, because that would be frightening, not to mention unpleasant. More so for whoever died than for you, his brain spoke up, and his nose wrinkled.
Churat nodded sympathetically, coming another step closer to the light but not making it any further than that. There, he dropped to the floor and sat, cross-legged; if they were going to have a conversation, he was going to be comfortable instead of looming. "It doesn't happen often, we've only had two in the three years I've been here. We might argue and not get along on most days, but we look out for each other as best we can. Come sit, if we're going to chat?"
He patted the ground in front of him.
Very brave of you.
Shut up.
"But yes," he continued, remembering the boy's earlier question. "Vrykolas have healing abilities. It's really just for when we bite people, so we can heal up the marks, but it works on anything."
And you have to lick them.
What would you rather: be licked, or be wounded?
I think I'd take the chance with the cut.
"Oh... sure," Marcus said, mildly surprised when Churat asked him to sit down. It made sense, so he joined the Vrykola on the floor, crossing his own legs as he got comfortable, his hands draped loosely over his knees. He guessed he could watch the pantry from a seated position as well as he could standing; he was going to take Churat's word that that was what he was supposed to be doing. Make sure nothing goes missing. He could do that, though he had no idea what would happen if someone tried to steal something. What was the difference between someone being hungry and coming in for a snack and stealing?
He had no idea, and he decided not to worry about that right now. It might not happen, and there was conversation to be had.
Marcus' eyes widened a little, but he didn't comment on the biting. He knew that Vrykolas needed blood like humans needed food, but it just hadn't occurred to him that--. Well, that they bit through people's skin to obtain that blood. "Um. Well, that's good," he said, unaware of the conversation also going on in Churat's head. He'd feel silly if someone licked him, someone that wasn't a Lykos, that was. It seemed natural for them to lick.
When Marcus went all awkward, Churat immediately tried to figure out what he'd done or said wrong. Nothing was immediately coming to mind. Unless it was the biting thing? Some people were uncomfortable with that, he knew, but usually when they first met him and saw the unretractable fangs, not... later.
Regardless of what it was, though, now he had to fix it. Churat was horrible at fixing awkwardness... it seemed to follow him, awkwardness did, and flocked to him like shadows to someone who they actually liked. "So, err."
Let one of us out, we can always come up with something to talk about.
No.
Come on, please?
No.
Spoil sport.
"What other chores did you sign up for?" There, that was an okay topic, right?
Marcus was only temporarily taken aback. After all, it wasn't as if he thought Churat was going to suddenly lunge at him and attack him. The Vrykola was actually really nice, even if he did have some slightly strange mannerisms sometimes. Who wasn't peculiar in their own way once in a while? He nodded, processing the information and then moving on to the different topic Churat had introduced.
"I have firewood and gardening, cleaning the kitchen and the closets and hallways on the second floor." He shrugged one shoulder lightly, then smiled. "I didn't think I'd be able to get downstairs to get here today!" Oh, that rope was going to be the bane of his life until the stairs got put back, with his elbow the way it was. "How about you?" he asked curiously.
No matter how long or short Marcus's discomfort lasted, it still made Churat feel nervous and awkward, himself. He was, sadly, very easy to fluster and intimidate. That he seemed to be relaxing again, and smiling again, was what helped him start to do the same. Being at the mental mercy of a very fickle group of bodiless people tended to make one's moods quick to change and very, very sensitive to others' moods.
"I work the garden, too, but everything else I have is inside," he answered. "I actually have this job for a shift." He held up a hand, pointing vaguely with one long finger at the room in general. "And I spend two days mending and stitching, though I'm nowhere near good enough to actually make anything, and another day cleaning up the basement."
Women's work, Westling muttered.
Work for anyone willing to do it, Lucien countered mildly.
Marcus couldn't help but be aware of Churat's nervousness, and he was glad when the Vrykola seemed to become more comfortable. The blond knew he wasn't the least bit intimidating, but something was troubling Churat. It would never occur to him that it was his own reaction that was.
"I like the garden," Marcus said, happy to have another topic of discussion. "A lot. Maybe it's just being outside, when the weather's nice." His cheeks colored a little as he remembered that Churat couldn't go outside during the day. Hopefully that wasn't a sore point. "I always mended the fishing nets at home," he added when Churat said he mended and sewed. "There were a lot of 'em, but I didn't care because I could sit by the ocean while I did it."
"I like being outside when a couple of the moons are close to full," Churat agreed-- he could go outside then, after all. He was used to the restriction, he just wasn't used to being stuck where he didn't feel safe....
And there, see? Men's work, just fine.
Human men, Westling grumbled. They don't count. They're halfway women, themselves.
Excuse me?
Present company definitely included, Luthien.
"I've never mended a net before," Churat admitted after a pause to listen to the bickering. "Or seen the ocean... what's it like?"
"Net mending's a breeze," Marcus said cheerfully. "It was my main job. My eyes aren't that great, but I could always feel where they were starting to tear." He had no qualms about women's work, men's work, any of that, most likely because of the way he'd grown up in a matriarchal society. Women's work wasn't construed as a slur as it might be in other societies. There was just work, and everyone had to do it in his large, hard-laboring family.
Churat's question about the ocean made the human miss it again, and his smile was a touch wistful. "It's huge, and loud... but it's a good kind of noise." The term he was looking for was white noise-- lulling, soothing, peaceful. "Makes you wonder how the world could be so big and how you could be so small, but you don't really mind. It... kind of has a rhythm." How did one describe an ocean to somebody who'd never seen or heard one? It was something he hadn't considered before. He didn't feel as if he'd done a good job, but the ocean had been a background to his life since the day he was born. It was ever-present.
The one who wound up listening the closest to that description was, unsurprisingly, Westling-- the one who wanted most to travel and see the world and be free. He listened so closely that he slowly crowded Churat back, further into his own mind, so Westling could try to imagine it with actual senses at his command.
"Sounds like a mountain, only wet," Westling commented out of Churat's mouth with a wry smirk, then finally backed off again, leaving Churat blinking and a little unsure of what he'd just said. Sometimes when a shadow came out, they blocked him completely, and right then, he didn't remember what he'd missed.
"Wait," he said confusedly. "What?"
"Well, if it rained, I guess a mountain could be wet," Marcus said, sounding mildly confused. There were times when he could be a little too literal, and he was having trouble understanding how the Vrykola could compare an ocean to a mountain, even if he had never seen one. "But only for a little while?" His brow furrowed as he took in Churat's sudden shift in demeanor; he'd seemed confident and unselfconscious with that smirk and no pause before he'd spoken, and now he seemed agitated with no clear reason Marcus could see.
"Are you all right?" Marcus asked, his tone almost hesitant. "We were talking about the ocean, and you said it sounded like a wet mountain." That struck him as a little bit silly once the words were out of his mouth, but he didn't laugh. That might be offensive. He wasn't sure what was going on. How could he have forgotten what I said already?
Churat blinked a few times, shook his head, and then ran his fingers roughly through his hair. "I'm all right... sorry, I just-- I get distracted sometimes. It's stupid." Distracted by the voices inside his head. Oh, yes, that'd go over well. "Don't mind me." Was it night yet? Could he flee yet?
You know, stupid, it is raining. Storming, even.
There's not a lot of sunlight out there right now.
... he hadn't actually thought of that.
"Sure," Marcus said, blinking a little. "That happens sometimes." He smiled, his initial impression that the Vrykola was a little bit strange confirmed, but not minding that. He seemed harmless enough, and Marcus was big on giving others the benefit of the doubt. He figured that Churat was probably still unnerved by not being someplace he was certain was safe during the day, dark day that it was.
He shifted his position, wondering if anything exciting ever happened during pantry duty. Probably not. At least he had someone to talk to for a few minutes-- that was probably the most he could have hoped for.
Being stuck in the pantry was starting to get old. And Churat was running out of small talk-- or even medium talk.
Medium talk.... Westling started snickering.
"I think I'll, erm, leave you to it?" Churat said, easing himself to his feet. "It's not a hard job, you should be... all right, and everything. Hardest part, humans say, is not eating anything yourself." He didn't exactly have that problem. "The people working the kitchen will tell you what to get when they need things, so... so yes."
"Oh," Marcus said, surprised. Of course it wouldn't do to be snacking on things during your work hours, would it? "I think I can control myself until I'm done. Hopefully!" He wouldn't want to get into trouble so early on. Well, he didn't want to get into trouble at all, but particularly not over something like that.
He hauled himself to his feet, using his good arm to brush off his pants. "Okay. It was nice to see you. Thanks for talking to me." He could handle pantry duty, he thought. Even if it was a bit too dark in here for his liking. He'd deal.
"You're welcome," Churat said with a shy sort of smile, hunching down a bit as he hit that "too tall" feeling. "I'm sure I'll see you again soonish. It's a small enough place, and the rain is probably going to be here for a few days, at least."
Ah, the joy of spring storms.
"I'll, um, see you around sometime soon, then."
And he started edging around Marcus towards the door.
Marcus nodded and stepped back to let Churat by, since the Vrykola seemed to want his personal space. "It isn't like there's anywhere else to go, right?" he said cheerfully. The building was a lot bigger than his house, but in the grand scheme of things, Churat was exactly right. Small enough place.