ɱɑʀiɛ (coveted) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-03-03 16:54:00 |
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Many Cajun spice mixes you could buy, prepackaged in the store, were actually quite disappointing - meaning that they packed a lot of heat with very little flavor. That was why Marie made her own spice mixes in-house, canisters of them lining the shelves above her cooking stations - salt, cayenne pepper, garlic powder, sweet paprika, dried oregano and more. She used them liberally in her foods, especially the hearty stews and soups that comprised Cajun cuisine - the difference between Cajun and Creole was that Creole was considered more urban, Cajun was very rural. These dishes were meant to be filling; in the past, they’d been made in cast-iron pots that were filled with whatever the swamp had given up. Nowadays, it wasn’t quite that way - but that didn’t mean Marie didn’t take pride in her food, or take care to prepare gumbo. She had just been standing over a simmering pot, giving it a few stirs and taste tests, when she glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that Lennon was about due for a break while on the night shift. And Marie had been planning to have a chat with her - after observing her at work for a bit, she was sure that the girl (and her skills) would be a valuable asset to the spy network. Perfect timing, then, to sit her down for some food and a talk. She scooped up a generous handful of shrimp, depositing them in one of the pots, then wiped her hands on her apron. It was a bit hot in the kitchen, of course, so she was eager to take a break too - and maybe Lennon would want something filling to fuel her for the remainder of her shift. Lennon had been feeling as if everything in life was on hold. Or more like she felt like she was just holding her breath and waiting for something, anything, to happen. Living with Cohen was weird, to say the least. They didn’t really know each other, he was just being nice and letting her room with him until she figured out her life, and he was pretty silent. It sucked. She wanted to talk, to...god she didn’t know. Share stories of their parents. Yeah, she understood that he had held a grudge against his father for a long time. She got it. Their father had lied about a lot of things, but he was gone now, and so was her mother, and it was just the two of them. Maybe if she screamed she’d feel better, but she wasn’t sure where to go to do that without someone thinking she was dying. So she went about her day. She got up in the morning. She showered, dressed, did everything that she normally would. She even made coffee, sometimes breakfast, and if her brother came out of his room she’d try pleasantries. Then she’d leave with the awkwardness hanging over her. Work was a good place. A safe place. She could be herself here and didn’t feel as if she should hold back. She was doing really well in the tip department, people seemed to like her, and of course she tried to give satisfactory service at each table. She continued searching faces for James, wondering if he would show, but so far no luck. When it seemed they were hitting a small lag where it was slow, she decided to take her break. She let the others know and then headed into the kitchen to let Marie know, smiling as she pushed through the doors. “Hey. I’m going to take my break while it’s slow if that’s alright.” “Of course, cher,” Marie replied, already moving to fill a couple bowls with rice and expertly ladle some of that gumbo over the top - it was certainly hearty, as a Cajun stew was meant to be, with chicken and sausage and shrimp for texture. “Want some? I was about to eat a bowl myself.” Eating in front of customers was generally a bad idea - it spurned all sorts of ridiculous ‘what if they leave spit on my cutlery?’ paranoia, so she encouraged the waitstaff to take their breaks in private. It was also quieter, and she knew that when she’d been a waitress, a little bit of peace was appreciated. So she opened the door to her back office - she’d gotten rid of the red velvet couch and put in a vintage-table-and-chairs set she’d refurbished - and headed inside, bringing gumbo and some crusty bread. Bottled waters were procured from the mini fridge. “I’d actually like to talk to you about something too, if you don’t mind?” “Definitely,” Lennon was nodding her head at the offer of food. “Smelling all this fantastic food all day definitely makes me ravenous. I need to find a gym and start a workout routine or all this food is going to make my plump,” she chuckled. She was in the middle of flattening some of the bills from her tip money so it would fit in the apron pocket more smoothly when Marie told her that she had wanted to talk to her about something. “Oh? I haven’t already done something wrong have I?” In general, when the manager/owner wanted to talk to you about something, it usually wasn’t good. Marie was amused at the thought - like she’d be giving Lennon a scolding. No, the girl was a good employee, the customers seemed to like her, and she was always on time for her shifts, looking professional when she arrived. Not tripping balls or hungover - trust her, Marie had seen some shit, working at her parents restaurant back when she was a teenager. “Non, nothing like that,” she assured, settling at the table and motioning for Lennon to take the other seat. The door had been closed, so they were speaking confidentially now. “I was just wondering how aware you’ve been lately, of a certain kind...political unrest that has been brewing? Right here on the island?” Lennon was not anti-human, as the Malcontents tended to be. Marie knew that. But there was a certain way of easing someone into the whole ‘do you wish to do some spywork?’ discussion. “Oh good,” Lennon let out in a relieved breath. She didn’t want to already be in trouble as she hadn’t been working there very long. She followed into the room and took a place at the table and reaching for the food. “Political unrest?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed downward over her eyes. “I haven’t been here long, only a week or so, and have only met a handful of people,” she pointed out. “So a political unrest, I mean...there’s always something,” she said with a bit of a shrug. “What is going on?” “There is a group called the Malcontents,” Marie started, her spoon taking a stir through the gumbo - she scooped up a bite, with some rice, and popped it into her mouth. Mmm, delicious. Not that she ever doubted herself in this arena. “Their main goal is to make a lot of fuss, a lot of noise, and make it seem like they are the ‘saviors’ for the supernatural community - they claim to want to fight for our rights, but they will do anything - including hurt other supernaturals - to cement their place at the top. ‘Ruling’ over humanity.” It was the whole idea of mowing down others they claimed to want to protect, in order to accumulate power, that bothered her about the whole thing, about their vision. Besides the fact that supernaturals were not necessarily ‘better’ than humans. “So this group has been making more and more noise lately,” she continued. “I am in charge of a group here that is meant to stop them. It’s not as if we think supernaturals should have to hide, or that we don’t deserve rights - but the ‘burn it all’ philosophy never has worked.” There was also no empirical evidence that showed ‘burn down the world, build it back up in the image of your people’ was also successful, yet that didn’t stop folks from trying it at some point. “I was wondering if you had interest in joining my group, Lennon,” Marie watched her with amber eyes, burnished gold. “I think you would fit in well.” Lennon listened, though if she were to be honest anything political would have normally had her tuning out and just nodding her head at appropriate times. But what Marie was telling her had her attention. She dipped her spoon into the gumbo and took a bite. Malcontents. That was an interesting name for a group, she thought. “So what they are wanting to do is bring us, the supernatural community from the shadows and put us in plain sight?” That didn’t sit well with her. Not that she didn’t like being what she was, it was more that she liked to keep what it was she could do hidden. Her mother had put herself out there a time or two and now she was dead. By hunters. No, what this group wanted would end up with a lot of bodies on both sides. She felt relieved that there was a side fighting against the Malcontents and she wasn’t sure if she were surprised or not that Marie was in charge. What surprised her was that it seemed as if Marie was trying to rope her into it. She took a drink of her water and sat back in her chair. “I’ve never been much for political anything,” she said. “But I do believe in causes that are for the best interest of the people, whether they be supernatural or not,” she said. “And if the Malcontents are wanting to upend the world as we all know it, which might very well not be for the best of anyone at all…” she clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Tell me more about your group and what part I’d play in it if I were to join?” “I am not one for politics myself,” Marie shared, waving a hand as if to dismiss that notion of sides. It was, as Greg said, just a cock fight - but that’s what the Malcontents seemed determined to turn things into, so, fine. “They do want the supernatural community unmasked, yes.” Which was great for them, but not everyone wanted that? They didn’t care, however, that much was apparent. “My group - we are spies, mainly,” she said. “We travel to other sanctuary cities to observe things that are fishy, to observe relations between humans and supernaturals - we investigate and report back. We don’t make bombastic claims of being saviors - you can spot a Malcontent pretty easily,” she smiled crookedly, a hint of sarcasm and sharpness there. “They like attention, and they like to bleat loudly about how much they hate humans.” “As for what you’d be doing,” she continued on, after wiping her fingers with a napkin, “Traveling, like I said. Gathering information. Questioning others, if need be. It’s difficult to find people to trust these days, but I do trust my spies to not let me down.” And if they did, well - it was unwise to cross a succubus. They’d find that out the hard way if they betrayed her. “My father is human. I’m doing this for people like him, humans who have done nothing wrong.” Supernaturals weren’t better than humans, and they weren’t owed the keys to the castle just because some of the supernatural community felt like they needed to make their bones, so to speak. Traveling. Marie probably had her right there. Traveling is what Lennon did best. Visiting other places, putting herself easily in the middle of her new, temporary ‘home’. She could do that easily. Still, she knew this was serious business and not to take lightly. She thought about both sides, taking her time while she ate her gumbo. She thought about her family and what had been done to it. Very easily she could become a Malcontent, considering that most hunters were humans, but she knew better than that. She knew that not all humans were bad, just like not all supernaturals were bad. There was a mixture of good and bad in both, it just depended on the person. She was pretty sure the Malcontents were not good, at least some of them weren’t she was sure. “Okay,” she said. “But what happens with the information. What is it used for? Who does it go to? If I were to do this and I brought back information on some Malcontent, what would you do?” Marie slid the spoon out of her mouth, swallowing another bite of gumbo. “The info comes to me - though our town sheriff, Jayati, is who I meet regularly with to share information. If you brought back info regarding the Malcontents, we would use it in our efforts to dismantle the group,” she said. “We’re not trying to hurt anyone. The answer isn’t to kill all of them before they kill every human.” No, then they’d be just as bad. Round and round they would go, and absolutely nothing would change. “They have connections with a lot of old money, I think. Hitting them in their pocketbook is always a good strategy.” Lennon thought about that for a moment. She was glad to hear that Marie’s group wasn’t wanting to hurt or kill anyone, that they just wanted to dismantle the group. That was good. Very good. She could get down with that. She knew she didn’t want to be apart of anyone dying, that she didn’t want to be at fault for that. “Okay,” she said after a few more moments. “I can get down with that. As long as people aren’t being hurt. And I care about humans, even if they are the reason my parents are no longer alive,” she glanced away. “I’ll help.” Marie nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, cherie - about what happened to your parents. You are very strong, to continue forward.” It would be so easy to blame humanity as a whole, to want revenge - but humanity as a whole hadn’t killed Lennon’s parents. A couple of shitty humans did, and painting them all with broad brush strokes only brought more heartache in the end. “Magnifique,” she managed a small smile, patting Lennon’s hand - sometimes, Marie thought she wasn’t very good at comforting others. She was a succubus, after all, a demon. Sleek seduction pulled from a rack of nightmares - but she liked the girl. Marie hoped they would work together for awhile. “Then, welcome, officially - “ She touched her water to Lennon’s in a toast, “I’ll be giving you your first assignment soon, I am sure.” Lennon nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d done well not to cry there. She wasn’t sure she was so much as strong as that moving forward was all she could do. Laying there to die, to be caught by hunters herself, that wasn’t in her nature. She also knew she couldn’t blame all humans, not all of them were against her kind, just a few and those she could definitely hate. She smiled when Marie did and she internally hoped she wasn’t getting in over her head. She didn’t know the people here of Summerville and the only person she cared about in the world was her brother who definitely needed to be kept hidden. He was full Unicorn and they were a rare breed, what others would do to him… He had to be kept safe, regardless if he wanted her to do that for him or not. “I’ll be looking forward to it,” she smiled again. “It’ll be fun.” And might give her life a little more purpose. |