Day Two
Who: Tico Moreno and Jonah Bryce When: Morning Where: Kitchen, Huria
The idle hours following the drowsy breakfast found Huria’s kitchen nearly deserted. Tico alone was seated at the table and immersed in a rather curious activity.
Holding a fork between his thumb and forefinger he pinched two of its tines and then, swiftly but gently, pressed its end against the table’s worn surface. A soft humming noise filled the air and his mouth twitched, curving into a smile. There was a pile of mismatched forks lying on the chair next to his, apparently waiting for their turn.
This was Tico Moreno, having fun.
He couldn’t use chopsticks, not even if his life depended on it. They hadn’t been that wide-spread on St. Albans and so there had never been any real need to practice – not at least before he left for Collegium, and then there had been a thousand other things to see and learn, and eating had seemed too mundane a chore to waste much time and energy on. So, when joining Huria’s crew, he had been delighted to find that whoever had equipped its kitchen had remembered those who just couldn’t make their food stay between two measly sticks long enough for it to reach their mouth. How most of the galaxy managed with such an illogical mode of eating was beyond Tico’s understanding.
Placing the fork on the table in front of him Tico picked up the next one in random and repeated the procedure. This time the produced sound was less clear, and so the smile transformed into a frown and the second utensil was placed to the left of the first one. Then he grabbed the third one, and the cycle began again.