|Famine | Fia Black (black_horse) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2013-08-19 20:04:00
|Entry tags:||famine, madeline kemp|
Who: Famine & Maddy Kemp
What: Finally, something good happens
When: Monday afternoon
Where: Fia's, Famine's restaurant (my lack of creativity in naming things is showing again...)
Warnings: Famine's sailor mouth, discussion of torture, TBD
Famine was in a foul mood. Her pastry chef was late, again; he hadn't called, and neither could she raise him on the phone. He was already on his last chance, which made this the straw that broke the Horseman's back.
"That fucking asshole is so fired," she muttered, stomping around the kitchen as she prepared for that night's dinner service. "If you want something done fucking right, better fucking do it yourself." She set about making cakes, cracking the eggs against the edge of the bowl so hard they split completely in half.
When he finally did waltz in, 90 minutes after he was supposed to have turned up, Famine just yelled, "Nope!" and threw a spoon at him. He ducked and it hit the wall behind him, spattering it with chocolate batter.
"The fuck?!" he yelled.
"The fuck, he says," Famine retorted, shoving cake pans in the oven. "You and your chronic tardiness are out of a fucking job, now get out of my kitchen." She slammed the oven door shut, probably harder than was necessary, but she was pissed.
"Aw, come on," he protested. "I'm not that late-"
"Almost two hours late is way fucking past 'not that late'," Famine barked, cutting him off. "And this isn't the first time this has happened, this is a habit with you. And I'm done with it. Get. Out. Of. My. Kitchen."
He looked like he was going to protest, but one of the sous chefs stepped up behind her, the biggest one of staff. (He might have been 6'4" and pretty buff, but he was a total kitten underneath that. No one else needed to know that know.)
"Lady said leave," he said evenly. "You might want to move along."
The other man looked like he was going to protest, then thought better of it. He turned on his heel and walked out, swearing a blue streak the whole time. Famine followed him out to make sure he left, Jordan the sous chef trailing behind her.
Maddy had made herself go out and apply for three jobs today. Sometimes walking hurt, but she was taking her Vicodin at regular intervals, and that helped some. Fia's was her last stop, but as she opened the door, she was almost barrelled over by a very angry, swearing man. She managed to narrowly avoid him, staring after him for a moment before stepping inside.
"If he ran into you, I can send Jordan after him," a woman's voice said.
Maddy turned and found the source of the voice, a very thin woman dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. "Hmm? Oh, no, he didn't, it's fine. I was actually stopping by to ask if you were hiring."
The woman smiled slightly. "You're in luck, that was my ex-pastry chef storming out of here. You got any experience?"
"Not...professionally," Maddy replied. "I've been baking since I was 13-ish, though."
"How old are you now?"
"I'll be 25 in December."
Famine nodded, a musing expression on her face. "I like my kitchen staff to have some former restaurant experience," she said at last. "Especially the line staff, but the pastry chef position isn't quite so...running around like your ass is on fire, I guess." She looked at Maddy for a few moments. "You ever made a Black Forest cake?" she asked after a moment.
"Ah...once," Maddy said, a bit thrown by the question. "It's been a while. If you gave me a recipe, I could do it again."
Famine nodded. "You said you've been baking a long time. Got a signature dish?"
"Blondies?" Maddy laughed, a little embarrassed. She felt out of her depth, and she was sure that any moment, she was going to be shown the door.
Famine glanced around the dining room. Monday afternoons meant they weren't terribly busy, mostly early bird dinner patrons.
"Gina," she called for the hostess. "You're in charge. Come and get me if there's a problem." She beckoned Maddy to follow her, leading her back to the kitchen.
"You're gonna make me some blondies," she told the confused girl. "Call it a hands-on interview. Whatever you need, it's here somewhere. Ask one of those losers if you can't find it." She gestured at the rest of the kitchen staff. "Come find me once they're baking." Maddy nodded, eyes wide as she looked around.
She spent the next half hour measuring, mixing, and generally trying not to get overwhelmed with nerves. She had to ask where the butterscotch chips and brown sugar were, but Jordan pointed out both items to her, a reassuring smile on his face. "She don't actually bite," he whispered. "She's just...real intense. Lady knows her food, though."
Once the pan was in the oven, Maddy went out in search of Famine. "Fia's in her office," Gina the hostess told her. "Down the hall."
Maddy went and knocked on the door. "You said to come find you?" she asked.
Famine waved her into a chair. "Tell me about yourself," she said. "Potential scheduling conflicts, that kind of thing."
"I'm starting school again in a couple weeks," Maddy told her, sitting down rather stiffly. She could tell the meds were wearing off. "Mostly afternoon classes, though, so I could work mornings, if that would work."
Famine jotted some notes down. "What'd you do to your ribs?" she asked bluntly.
Maddy sighed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Famine smirked, holding out her hand. One moment, it was empty. The next, she was holding a set of polished silver scales. "Try me."
"Holy shit," Maddy breathed, almost falling out of her chair. "What the fuck, are you Lady Justice or something?"
"Nah, she's not around these parts anymore, and seriously, you think Justice would own a fucking restaurant?" Famine asked, arching an eyebrow. "Naw. Famine. Black rider of the Apocalypse, etc." She waved a hand vaguely. "And all that entails."
Maddy was starting to panic a little. "So...does that make you a good guy, or a demon-thing?"
Famine snorted. "Neither. My sisters and I are neutral. Heaven and Hell can fight with the world and each other all they want, and trust me, they do. But we don't get involved. Our roles are simply to do the jobs we were made to do, and wait to usher in the End of Days. Until then...it's mostly a lot of waiting, with the occasional bout of being sent somewhere to start a famine. Or a war. Or a plague."
Maddy relaxed slightly. At least she seemed honest. "A demon tortured me," she finally said into the silence. "Broke four of my ribs, gave me this lovely scar." She held up her left hand. "Fucked with my head real good, too. It was a shapeshifter, it turned into two of my siblings."
"Demons are a bunch of fuckers," Famine said vehemently. "They are, across the board, not allowed in here. Michael warded the crap out of this place, plus, I'm more than a match for most of them, in terms of raw power. They aren't getting in, and they aren't welcome."
Maddy looked cautiously hopeful when she mentioned the building was warded. "So...whatever it was, they couldn't get in here?"
"Nope," Famine replied. "Snatching staff and patrons is bad for business, plus I just hate those dicks anyway. I don't need any more surprise Lucifer visits."
Maddy went pale, but managed to say, "Yeah...I don't think anyone does."
Her phone started to beep in her bag. She pulled it out and shut off the alarm. "I set this to go off two minutes before they were done," she explained.
"Let's go and have a taste, then." Famine led the way back to the kitchen, and almost as soon as they walked in, an oven timer started going off. Famine grabbed some oven mitts, pulling the pan of blondies out of the oven. "Give 'em a minute to cool down," she said, pulling the mitts off and going in search of a knife and some paper plates. Once she'd found both, she returned and cut into the treats.
"Eat up, gang," she said, passing a plate to everyone. "Then let's have yeas or nays."
The kitchen staff tucked into their plates, remaining quiet at first. Jordan the sous chef was the first to say something, holding his hand out in a thumbs up. "'S good," he said, swallowing. "All...caramel-y and sugary and shit."
The girl next to him nodded. "Add some vanilla ice cream, these'd fly out of here."
Maddy was doing her best not to look too pleased with herself.
They continued going around the staff, whose comments were overwhelmingly positive. Finally, Famine cut one for herself, chewing thoughtfully. She turned to look at Maddy. "When can you start?" she asked, and the rest of the staff gave up a cheer.