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Post by Beau Rolvsson on Jul 15, 2014 19:06:02 GMT
In a relatively well-known restaurant, a young sous chef contemplated his place in that particular diner. The day had been very fast paced and it had left him little to no room for keeping his hair as neat as he would like it to be. But he could ignore that. It was a little past the dinner time rush and the other chefs slowed down to catch a break. Beau, ever serious, never truly stopped for a break. Then again he was always like that and that was one of the reasons why he was the sous. That and the fact that he was the second best and fastest cook in the restaurant.
He could ignore the few jealous stares he received from the older, more experienced chefs who’d worked longer than he had but didn’t get the position he currently held. He could also ignore the fact while he loved to cook and all; he really hated the head chef. But what he just couldn’t ignore was why the head chef insisted on treating him as a bus boy! And since Beau wasn’t treated with respect by the head chef, why should the others?
Always looked down upon but keeping a cool head, he made sure they noticed how their disrespect got to him. This is to say, not at all. This was a temporary job in his mind. As soon as he could get a better paying one he was gone. But so far he was having no luck in that particular area. He kept his wanting to ditch this oh so fine establishment hidden. He didn’t trust anyone here and wasn’t planning to any time soon.
The night had fallen relatively quickly and the rush was slowing down to a stop. But that didn’t mean Beau could rest, could it? No, while the other chefs got a breather, the head chef ordered him to take out the trash. Not only was the task itself insulting as the sous chef, the head just had to have that tone that said he couldn’t handle it! Like Beau believed himself to be better just because he held the second in command! And in all fairness he was, but still! The tone alone made Beau grind his teeth to stop himself from lashing out verbally at the head. Worse still he could hear the jealous chefs laughing at him behind his back. Oh, how he would love to burn this place to the ground with them in it! But he didn’t want to go to jail. Not yet, anyway.
So, with teeth gritted in anger, he took the trash out the back door that lead to the alley behind the restaurant. Closing the door behind him, he threw the trash bag into the trash can and glared at it. In order to calm himself down before he went back inside, he snapped his fingers and set his hand on fire. It didn’t burn him, of course. The fire was mesmerizing and calming to watch. It reflected in his eyes and the light highlighted his golden hair. Beau was tempted to set the thrash on fire and pretend it was the head, but he knew better to not to. Mainly because it would give off a horrible smell.
While watching his glowing hand, he heard something in the alleyway. The sound pulled his attention from the fire to try and see where the noise had originated from. After searching for a minute or two and without the sound being repeated, he shrugged it off as a cat or something and flicked his wrist. The fire went out and he sighed sadly at the loss. Straightening up, he smoothed his shirt and hair down to the neater manner he preferred. He composed himself and turned towards the back door to head back inside, very reluctantly.
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Post by Daemey Vennthiel on Jul 16, 2014 15:12:07 GMT
Daemey was bored, and hungry. Sure Ced paid her now for gathering information, but that wasn’t as often as she would have liked. The money she didn’t spend, she was saving up, storing it away in a small leather pouch that had definitely seen better days (she’d found it in someone’s trash) and had hidden it away in the crates where she lived. For what was she saving for? Daemay couldn’t really say because she didn’t really know herself, but she’d figure it out when the time came or the need arose. The girl had one of the precious silver coins stuffed into a pocket hidden within the folds of her tattered skirt. It would be enough to buy her something, but most of the shops that dealt in food were closing. The restaurants remained open for the straggler or two who wanted dinner. Daemey would have joined them, but she was too nervous to. After her encounter with Ced, she’d tried to get into several restaurants, but each and every one had practically thrown her out saying that a street rat like her didn’t have a place among the finery and couldn’t afford the rich food. So here she was in a darkened alleyway that led to a dead end behind one of the fancier restaurants waiting for someone to bring out the trash. She wasn’t too thrilled about the dead end and having no way if she was caught back there, but she was hungry and there was nothing she could really do about it. The girl ended up sitting on top of an empty crate her feet swinging back and forth as she waited. After a while Daemey decided that they may already have taken it out and she had gotten there afterwards. So, she slipped of the crate and approached the can. But now came the problem. She, standing at just under four feet, was too short to have good leverage to get the lid off. Well, she could knock it over, but that would make a good deal of noise and someone would come looking to see what had happened. Maybe she could pull one of the crates or boxes that lay in the alleyway over. Yeah, that would work. That would work rather well. As she began to turn, the back door of the restaurant opened and Daemey froze for a fraction of a second before she scampered back into the darkness of the alleyway and clambered on top one of the boxes that leaned precariously on a heap of worthless junk. She looked back at the trashcan to see a man, a rather unhappy man, throw a bag of trash away. Ah! So she hadn’t been mistaken when she first came here. She’d just gotten there too early. The man snapped his fingers and all of a sudden his face and figure were lit up by the fire that had sprung out of nowhere and into his hand. Daemey stared at it with wide eyes and leaned forward slightly. The movement caused a small box to go tumbling to the ground. The girl flinched at the noise and the man turned, trying to see what had caused it. He apparently saw nothing and after a minute or two let the fire he held go out and turned away to go back inside. Daemey gave a silent sigh of relief. Now she could go back to her plan as soon as he was completely gone. But he was taking his sweet time going back the short distance. The girl shifted positions as she waited impatiently and the box underneath her suddenly tilted rather drastically. Daemey couldn’t help the frightened and rather loud squeak that left her lips as she felt that she was going to fall off. Once she regained her balance, her hands gripping the edges of the box, Daemey looked up at the man, dreading that he had heard her and was now going to come after her. Oh please, please, please keep walking. |
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Post by Beau Rolvsson on Jul 16, 2014 17:01:32 GMT
Beau turned around sharply when he heard another sound in the alley. This time he chose to walk towards the noise warily. He was preparing for an attacker or something of that degree. What he saw instead was a hungry looking little girl. She appeared to have fallen from a box in surprise. He raised an eyebrow at her situation. What was she doing here, in the back alley of the restaurant? Since she appeared hungry so perhaps that had something to do with it. She didn't look like she would be welcome in his restaurant.
After he realized that she wasn't a threat, or she didn't look like one at least, he knelt down and studied her a little more. Why was a little girl like her alone at all? Weren't there orphanages that would take care of her? Unless she didn't want to go into an orphanage. If she was hungry, was she waiting for the trash? He couldn't let this go! It was his job to feed people, after all. Who was he to ignore a child anyway?
"Are you hungry?" He asked, letting his eyes become kinder than they usually were. "If you are, wait here."
Without waiting for her confirmation, he walked back inside and carefully prepared a meal for her. He made certain that the others didn't see him do this because it was against policy to feed a non-paying customer. The meal wasn't made of anything that could be missed by anyone. At least inventory wouldn't be taken soon. He thought, taking the meal outside. His disappearance would be noticed by someone but he would deal with that when it came.
Once back outside he set the meal consisting of a few chicken tenders along with a buttered bread roll and fries in front of her. It had taken a few minutes for him to prepare but since it was already half prepared he didn't have to do much. Seeing that she was still here, he leaned against the wall of the restaurant and looked at the night sky. |
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Post by Daemey Vennthiel on Jul 16, 2014 18:19:09 GMT
Daemey’s eyes widened as the man turned around as she inhaled sharply. Oh please go away. Just leave. But he didn’t. Instead he approached with a wariness in his step. The girl backed away as far as she could, which wasn’t much at all considering that there was another crate already at her back. She watched him carefully as he stopped, he’d obviously seen her by now, and lifted a brow before he knelt. What was he doing? Daemey didn’t know and just wanted him to leave. But he hadn’t yelled at her yet, so that was a good sign right? But he could still get someone, he could still trap her and then send her back the orphanage, he could still hurt her too. He opened his mouth, Daemey was expecting him to yell, but… but instead he asked if she was hungry. Well, yes, she was. But the girl didn’t reply to his question, she was still nervous and that made her hesitant to. And then he told her to wait there. Was he getting her food or getting someone else to help him catch her? He then stood and went back into the restaurant, the door closing behind him. Did she dare trust him? It could still be a trap. She definitely had time to leave since he was no longer standing in the middle of her escape route. But he’d asked if she was hungry and his eyes had softened. He could just be getting her food. But did she dare take that chance? Dae told herself that she should just leave, but this was probably her only chance of getting actual food instead of scraps for the night. The girl bit her lower lip and after a moment chose to stay. After all, if the man had gone to get help and if they did manage to catch her and send her back to the orphanage, she could just easily escape again. It wasn’t so hard the first time. And what would she lose? A day out on the streets? She’d chance it and hoped that he was indeed bringing food. The girl looked back to the crate behind her before she clambered up on top of it and sat down crossing her legs. A hand reached into her pocket and felt for the silver coin to make sure that it was still there. It was and she sighed a breath of relief. Losing that would not be a very good thing to do. A while later the door opened again, and she sat up alert and attentive to his every move. But no one else came out after him and he held a plate in his hand. He set it down on the ground and moved away to lean against the wall, looking up at the sky. Daemey watched him for a moment before her eyes flicked to the food then back up to him. Everything seemed to be all right so she uncrossed her legs, pulled her hand out of her pocket and slipped down to the ground. So far so good, he was still looking up. The girl approached the food carefully, keeping the man in sight lest he made any sudden moves. And then the plate was at her feet. Daemey bent over, snatched up one of the pieces of chicken and the bread, and retreated to the crate. She sniffed both then bit into the chicken and gave herself a small smile. It was good. Very good. She devoured it in moments then bit into the bread this time eating it slowly to savor the flavor and to keep her eye on the man who was still leaning against the wall. |
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Post by Beau Rolvsson on Jul 17, 2014 3:22:40 GMT
Beau had watched her from the corner of his eye, watching as she was suspicious of him and the food he gave her. He couldn't blame her though he would've left regardless. But that was him being himself. While she ate and watched him warily, he wondered what should he do with this...predicament. The sensible thing to do was to place her in an orphanage but would she be out here if she liked it there? He figured that he wouldn't lose anything by asking her about it so he decided to do just that.
"If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?"
He drew his gaze from the starry sky to the homeless, he's assuming, girl. Just as usual he wanted all of the different angles on the subject. He hated being kept in the dark about things which is probably why he loves fire. (ha! puns) Perhaps she had a way to survive, however unlikely that may seem. She was but a child after all. However, some children were smarter than they seemed. He knew that he was smarter than need be when he was a child. Then again that was how he was raised, by Rhea at least.
If she did, indeed, have a way to survive then he'll leave her be. He wouldn't offer any more help than he already did, for all he knew she could be actual trouble. Trouble that he just couldn't afford to deal with right now. While awaiting her answer he estimated how much time he would have before the head chef noticed his absence, even though it is now close to closing time. Then he thought about what would happen if he came out here personally and found the girl. Beau knew he wouldn't get fired but his boss wasn't the most reigned in person he knew. And he could only imagine what would happen to her.
"You also might have to leave soon. My boss is certainly one to be worried about." He sated simply, only a passing and well hidden concern flickering behind his eyes. |
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Post by Daemey Vennthiel on Jul 17, 2014 20:38:17 GMT
Daemey was swallowing the last bit of bread when he asked, "If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?" His eyes moved down from the sky to look at her. She canted her head at him and merely stared. Well, wasn’t that obvious? The food, of course. A girl had to eat sometime. Anyways why was he asking? He was bright enough to figure out that she was hungry and brought her food, but couldn’t figure out why she had come here. Why else would someone come to a restaurant? Well he’s stupid then. And she still wasn’t sure if he was completely trustworthy yet. ”To find somethin’ to eat,” the girl replied matter-of-factly a moment later. Speaking of which, there were still a number of chicken fingers on the plate; not to mention the fries as well. Daemey moved from her spot to the plate on the ground. Scooping up a handful of fries, she decided not to move back to the crate. It didn’t seem like he was going to attempt anything, besides she was closer to the entrance of the alleyway where she was standing, but that also meant she was closer to him. The girl popped several of the fries into her mouth, downing them quickly before she finished off the rest of the fries in her hand and licked her grubby fingers. The girl then picked up one of the chicken tenders and bit down on it before she turned her bright blue eyes back to the man as he spoke again. "You also might have to leave soon. My boss is certainly one to be worried about.” Well, if he came out and found her then she’d bolt, but for now the girl was content to stay where she was to finish off the rest of the meal the man had provided. Daemey didn’t reply to him, but she was thinking that maybe he really wasn’t going to try anything tricky. He did giver her food after all and had given her a warning about his boss just now. Maybe he was just being nice. The taste of chicken filled her mouth as she took another bite. She held the piece in her mouth for a moment before she chewed on it and swallowed. ”Thanks.” She shoved the remain piece of chicken in her mouth then said around it, ”For the food,” just to make sure he knew what she was thanking him for. She was grateful, she really was, and she couldn’t forget the manners her mother had taught her— ”Always say please and thank you.” Although the little girl hadn’t really said please for a long while. A pretty “please” got her nothing out on the streets, but at least she did remember to say thank you whenever she could. |
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Post by Beau Rolvsson on Jul 18, 2014 17:28:11 GMT
”To find somethin’ to eat.”
After she said that, he blinked. I suppose I was too vague in my question. He thought as he noticed he wasn’t getting any more from her. He figured he had that habit of being vague. He noticed that if he thinks too much about a subject he'll forget that what he says isn't as clear to the person he's speaking to as it is to him.
“Allow me to rephrase the question. Why are you here alone in the back alley of a restaurant and not in an orphanage?” He asked pointedly. “Of course, it is my assumption that you don’t wish to be there.”
It almost seemed as if he was speaking to himself, trying to solve a little puzzle that he'll forget about later. It was nice to have a moment when he could steal his own personal break without anything, or one, to ruin it. He wondered what it was like to be in an orphanage and if it was bad, good, or terrible. He supposed he would get the answer out of the girl in the meantime. Blinking once he noticed he doesn't even know her name. But if he asked she would want to know his and he didn't know if he'd indulge her. He looked over at her and noticed she was done with the food. She then thanked him for it.
“Do not thank me. It is but a habit of mine. I am a chef, after all.” He stated, dismissing her thanks. He didn’t like hearing those words even if they are spoken in sincerity. In his opinion they were used far too often and without thought or care. Besides, Rhea used the words too falsely for him to appreciate them. It was merely common courtesy.
“If I may ask, do you have a way to live?” He questioned, trying to figure out what to do further. He probably had a few more minutes or maybe even just one until the head acted on his suspicions.The head would definitely be angry and throw her back to the orphanage. And he would be left with more work than he could accomplish. He decided that after gaining the information he needed to know from her he’ll tell her to leave.
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Post by Daemey Vennthiel on Jul 20, 2014 2:57:12 GMT
Why wasn’t she in an orphanage? Well, she didn’t like it there. It wasn’t a nice place. It was too full of other annoying kids who did nothing but cry and hurt the others. All of the grown-ups did nothing about anything and she didn’t like being stared at by the hopeful parents who came to adopt. She wanted her own parents, not them. “You assumptioned right.” Daemey wasn’t quite sure what assumption meant, but she went with it anyway. Oh. Don’t thank him… But she meant it. He was being nice and deserved to be thanked. Did he not like being thanked? Daemey liked it. It made her feel like she’d done an amazing thing to help someone else, but of course, she was never thanked anymore. Curses and swearing were more likely to be thrown her way in the recent times. Perhaps she deserved them, thieving wasn’t a good thing, but she did have to live even if it meant being cursed. Anyway, those she took from would probably forget her a few days after, she hoped, and their words didn’t really hurt either. Daemey picked up the last remaining fry and nibbled on it before she licked her fingers. The food had definitely been good. Some of the best she had had in a while. Maybe if she came he’d give her some more. Or maybe this was just a one time thing, and next time she came back he would take her to the orphanage. She wasn’t too thrilled about that thought. Maybe she wouldn’t come back later. Hm? A way to live? Well, sure. She pickpocketed, scrounged around, got money from Ced in exchange for information. Yeah, she had a way to live. It probably wasn’t the best way to live, but it was a way and she was satisfied with it. For now. Daemey nodded in response to his question with a short, “Uh-huh.”. No need to bore him with a little girl’s rambling, besides the part about Ced was a secret. So now what? She had come and gotten what she had wanted and was now satisfied. Perhaps, if the man moved, she’d go back to the crates. But if he wanted to talk some more she’d not deny him a conversation, but he didn’t really seem like the type to talk. Ah well. |
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Post by Beau Rolvsson on Jul 25, 2014 4:13:03 GMT
Beau was actually having have thoughts about helping her. It was strange of him to do so, especially with a stranger. He didn't even understand why he felt conflicted about this. Her being here was a mere coincidence as was his stumbling across her. He shouldn't even feel conflicted! Those feelings were unpleasant to him and awfully foreign. No one ever helped him and he never helped anyone, most certainly not out of the 'kindness' of his heart.
“You assumptioned right.”
Beau blinked once at her words. Did she not know what it means? He wondered. However, it was a little...shall we say, cute the way she tried to say it correctly. He could almost smile! Except he wouldn't, but his eyes lit up a little.
"The correct past tense is 'assumed'. The word itself means 'to guess'." He corrected with a slightly amused tone to his voice. Perhaps he would help this young lady. After all, she didn't seem to have many people who would help her. But then again, he wasn't sure if he could spare anymore help than he already gave. Maybe I could simply give her a meal if she happened to come by again? He wondered, nearly frowning at his decision. But how to get this across to her.
Looking towards her again he noticed that she simply nodded her head to his earlier question. So she did have a way? Hmm...It was certainly something to be impressed a little about. After all, not all young children could effectively say that they could survive on their own without the help of a parent. Maybe there was a slight possibility he liked the girl.
"If you so happen to come by again and I happen to notice that you did, I might be able to give you a meal." He said, wondering if he actually knew what he was saying. He spoke slowly, trying to word it properly. He wondered what he sounded like. Did he sound awkward or crass? Probably. Helping people was not his strong point.
Tags: Daemey Vennthiel Inspiration: I haven't got a clue! Notes: I don't know where this is going~ |
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Post by Daemey Vennthiel on Jul 30, 2014 15:22:36 GMT
Past tense? Whatever that meant. But it wasn’t assumptioned it was assumed, and that meant to guess; got it, right. He sounded amused when he corrected her. Besides his anger earlier, this was the most emotion she’d seen from him their entire conversation. So maybe he wasn’t an unfeeling man, well a man who couldn’t feel just anger. Maybe he just a man who didn’t like emotions and therefore didn’t want to let others see them. How odd and interesting at the same time. Daemey was definitely a girl who relied on her emotions, and not have any or trying to not have them was just a strange concept to her. "If you so happen to come by again and I happen to notice that you did, I might be able to give you a meal." He sounded a bit odd saying it. He spoke slowly as if he was unsure if he was saying the right thing, or like he couldn’t get it out properly. But he did say that he’d get her some food if she stopped by again, and he did sound genuine about it too! Maybe he wasn’t a bad man, maybe she could really trust him. Nevertheless, the girl’s eyes lit up with surprise and happiness. “Really? You’d do that?” Daemey smiled, beaming at him. “Thank you!” Her face fell a moment later and she looked down, pouting and scuffing her feet against the ground. “Oh, right… I’m not supposed to thank you aren’t I? Sorry.” She then looked up at him and cocked her head, her brows creasing in confusion. “Why don’t you like bein' thanked?” It was odd that he didn’t like being thanked and she truly wanted to know why he didn’t like it. He was a strange man, an apparently unfeeling man, but he still had to have a reason. |
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Post by Beau Rolvsson on Jul 31, 2014 22:21:44 GMT
"Really? You’d do that? Thank you!”
The young girl seemed to beam at him, making him feel a little uncomfortable. He certainly wasn't used to people thanking him in such a manner. It was curious since he hated those words but actually didn't mind them this time. Only a moment passed when her face fell.
“Oh, right… I’m not supposed to thank you aren’t I? Sorry.”
"I suppose I can accept it this once. No need to apologize," He said, deciding that her thanks was genuine.
“Why don’t you like bein' thanked?”
Being. His mind automatically corrected. He supposed that it would do no harm to tell her his reasoning.
"I despise those words for one main reason: they are used far too often and without proper thought. Speaking of, I also dislike the phrase 'I'm sorry' for the same reason. I feel as though the words have lost their meanings." He explained. Also, she used them far too falsely for me to accept them anymore. He thought, nearly frowning.
Beau, having noticed she was finished eating, carefully took up the empty plate. He was walking back towards the wall he leaned against when the head chef walked out of the door.
"Rolvsson! What the hell have you been doin-" He cut off when he saw the girl and the empty plate Beau was carrying. The head seemed to turn red in anger.
"Get the hell out of here you little shit!" He yelled at the girl. Beau felt annoy and a little mad at him for yelling at her. But before he could do anything, his boss roughly seized him by the collar. "And you! Get the fuck back inside! I'll deal with you later."
And with that having been said, he shoved Beau through the back door back into the restaurant. While inside, he caught glimpses of the other chefs' faces. Some looked at him with pity while others smirked. For when Beau was in trouble, one chef could get a day off. That was usually how it went. The head chef returned a minute or so later, obviously successful at shooing the young girl. Beau calmly awaited his usual yelling and his punishment.
Tags: Daemey Vennthiel Notes: Mean boss-kun! Oh, and I don't mind if it was short! Don't worry about it~
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