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    A Girl's Gotta Eat

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    Bocca
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    A Girl's Gotta Eat

    Post by Bocca on Sun Feb 19, 2017 10:28 am


             The Fort | Midday | Warm

    Smiley face

    Unfortunately, despite the sound of rustling the evening of the Silver Spoon event, that night had not been a good night for meat. Not fresh or desirable meat, anyway. But, Jabali knew, from being raised in the harsh landscape and forced to learn not just to survive, but to adapt and thrive like some of her feral cousins.



    Of course, this lead to eating a great many sand dwelling grasshoppers and other such insects, more often than not disgusting and flavorless. There was many a time where she was certain she would have rather starve to death than eat another spider. Today, her feelings were different, if only due to her own ingenuity.



    That afternoon, the bat woman was hanging from a gnarled branch on the edge of the forest near the Fort, moving in a soft sway with the wind, wings accidentally caped around most of her as she popped what, from a distance, might have been mistaken for lightly dusted cheetos. In reality, rather large grasshoppers, just barely living, snowy with seasonings and garlic like undertones.



    It was a far cry from the meal the Chef had provided, but it had it's own charm, as did a great deal of her 'cooking' if one could call it that. She considered the meal and it's complexity, choosing not to think too much on her drunken declerations. In fact, the thoughts of the food alone, and maybe a thought or two about those alabastor pecs, was enough to send her semi-falling from the tree to kick upright over her head in mid air and begin walking the path to the last place she saw the lion. Well, she just thought he was a cat, as she'd never seen a lion before.



    Regardless of misspeciesing, some time later she found herself outside the Fort itself, looking around it once again, seemingly taking a leisurely stroll around, certainly not looking for anyone in particular, why would you even think that? She jumped, remembering she actually did have a reason for coming here, continuing to pop grasshoppers in her mouth as she made her way towards the livestock keep. Chimu eggs. The sooner she could obtain some of those and start breeding, the sooner she could stop eating grasshoppers.



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    Steffano
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    Re: A Girl's Gotta Eat

    Post by Steffano on Tue Feb 21, 2017 7:46 am

    'Business hours' were a finicky thing for any cat lion that too often found themselves bound by service or obligation within the ever-growing Fort's walls. For a man like Steffano, this mean far too many revolving days all but physically locked in the keep, and too many of his free moments spent tending to the increasingly more bustling safe haven's needs while discarding his own.

    And so it was not a terrible surprise that he could be found hours prior to the next meal service, looming over a well-equipped kitchen aid as they dropped biscuits, or playing mis-colored shadow to a small battalion of labor hands toting crates from one bunker to another. Today, he stood just shy of the Fort's acting courtyard, absently carving away the skin of oversized russets while the bare regions of the garden soil beside the coops and stables was tiled over to expose their fertile undersides. The skins and rooty flesh were separated, with the latter group frequently surrendered with a pronounced ploop to a metal basin filled with starchy water. The skins were piling high in a bag, n doubt to be turned to feed of some sort, or else used to renew some of the dirt from which they came.

    Only the odd figure passing managed to catch his eye for more than a few moments; active people watching meant for a draw from his routine, and thus a greater need to focus on it. And yet, he managed passing waves of is paring knife to passing familiars and flung the charming upward turn of a single side of his mouth to any lady-folk who dared too close. A man was not a man unless he melted at least a quarter of the panties he happened across!

    Jabali's entrance went mostly without note. Mostly, but her meandering toward and around the coop enclosure won in the passive rest of the Chef's mind over the consistent stroke of hoes and tiny blades alike. "Miss Jabali," he called out from his lingering point, "They aren't very good company," he remarked, nodding toward the birds once he drew her attention. Only the smallest of the lot were visible - standard sized chickens and creatures that looked like a cross between geese and ducks - long necked but too close to the ground for their bulging middles. The tending staff had long learned that the upper breeds and flightless birds demolished meals without ever letting the smaller sort at them. "You lookin' for somethin'?" Someone?
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    Bocca
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    Re: A Girl's Gotta Eat

    Post by Bocca on Tue Feb 21, 2017 8:58 am


             The Fort | Midday | Warm

    Smiley face

    Had she had feathers, the familiar sound of the alabastor kitty cat would have caused them to puff and ruffle. Instead, since she was covered in fur and leather, instead a loud flap as she jerked her arms quickly to make sure she didn't have any grasshopper legs in her teeth, slightly hunched as she responded, "Chimu actually." She responded, in a muffled manner as she picked with pinky finger. With a run of tongue across her teeth and a subtle check that her breath didn't smell too much like garlic (she supposed as long as he didn't get too close...), she turned to face the very person she'd totally not made the trip in hopes they would ... encounter one another, "I was hoping to run into you actually."



    She adjusted her orientation and made her way towards the lion, plopping down at any available surface and offering him the bag of grasshoppers, "Don't look in there, just pop one in your mouth. Trust me. Don't think about it." She kept her hand out in request for a potato, fully committed to helping him out if need be, fishing a carving knife of her own out of her backpack once she'd laid it to rest on the ground. She felt no need to make assurances that they were tasty, she had spent several years perfecting her technique so they were both delicious, nutritious and relatively easy to transport and make.



    "That meal you made was really good. Fancy. How long did it take you to get all those ingredients and spices? Are they easier to get here? I've never eaten anything like that in my life." Should he have given her a potato, she would begin carving the skin off it in easy motions, flicking the skin over into the bag. "The presentation too..." She realized she was gushing and finally looked away from him, not quite nervously, but as if she realized that spearing someone with those huge eyes for several moments was odd, to say the least, "I'm just impressed, that's all. It wasn't what I expected." Her perception of the Fort before she arrived had been ... less than positive.



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    Steffano
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    Re: A Girl's Gotta Eat

    Post by Steffano on Thu Feb 23, 2017 9:43 am

    Being far more one for offering comforts than accepting them, the lion nodded toward a wooden bench as the bat approached, either having been ignorant to or purposefully ignoring her previous plucking and primping for his sudden need to closely examine his cuts as he freed a potato of its stiff covering. Though his skins pile lay at one side of the two-person surface, and his water bucket on the other, there was still ample sitting space. "You're looking for chimu?" He questioned with an audible hint of confusion over inflecting his tone. "To see them, or...?" No one just looked for a five-foot bird. There was always a reason - and they usually equated to the same sort of reasoning that sent Zemorah gazing after their pens whenever she visited.

    The Chef seemed far less concerned with why she might have been looking for him in specific, and as she made to lend herself as aid, he raised a knife-wielding palm to slow her, head thrown through a short shake. "I don't take help from anyone but my trainees, if I need it at all. Maintains my standards," and maintained his controls. "'Preciate you, though," he tacked on gently, returning the blade to its task before dunking another sud in the visibly thickening water. Ploop. The bag of seasoned insects, though, he did eye, though rather than disgust or surprise, a dense brow flipped upward as he aimed to identify its peppered contents. "Chapulines?" A flawless turn of a Spanish-inclined accent that hadn't been but a moment before. The bag was given a bat with the tip of his tail, "You think you're the first one turned to thangs that had the sense to crawl and hide 'steada all this shit went and got turned into monsters tryna out run the end of the world?" Ploop. The pale lion gave a gruff laugh, tail swishing back toward his side. "They smell fine. 'M sure they taste better."

    Another of those wondering-skepticism glances was fixed on the bat as she began prattling off questions and compliments on his meal, a huff of amusement providing punctuation he hadn't thought she'd find on her own. Ploop. Still, he didn't rush to give away his trade secrets, if at all he considered them that. "Lotta' practice," he admitted vaguely. "Lotta' old books. Got a little collection in my kitchen, an' back in the village. Got a garden both places, too." Which explained some of the lesser common ingredients, to be certain. Ploop. "You spend enough time here - not pissin' people off - an' ya' connect up with all kinda' folks. Traders. Farmers. Tree-huggers. Old world domestics. Ya' learn shit if ya' listen - if ya' help. Ya' get shit when ya' trade." Simple enough... sorta. Ploop. "But a lot of it is grown here - in the Fort. One of the perks 'a bein' in some of the better land north of the Hallow." And then the man's blanched features raised with the coming of another of those smiles - the whole of his face lightened with it, despite little beyond his mouth lending to the expression. "I'd be lyin' if I said 'impressing' wasn't my goal, so I'm glad I succeeded -- but I'm curious: what'd ya' expect, then?"
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    Bocca
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    Re: A Girl's Gotta Eat

    Post by Bocca on Sun Feb 26, 2017 3:26 pm


             The Fort | Midday | Warm

    Smiley face

    The bat's own eyebrows rose at the question, as if it seemed strange to her that nobody would be looking for Chimu for anything other than what she was looking to do with them, "No, I can imagine what they look like, I just want to breed them. Maybe domesticate one to ride. Feathers, meat, eggs, jerky. They're useful." She explained, "I was looking for chimu eggs, specifically though. It's easier when you raise birds from the hatch." Since he refused her help, she just bit into the potato she was holding, not in the least offended.

    "A boy and a girl and just start pumping them out." She looked towards the sky, considering it, "I figured they'd be really expensive, though, so I brought everything I had to trade. I just have enough for food and shelter for them." She didn't seem upset about it, or even asking for anything, simply making conversation. Eyes fell back to the lion as he said a word she was entirely unfamiliar with, "Bless you." She said matter of factly, "Of course not, I just did it the best." That, equally stated factually, "They don't even taste like grasshoppers anymore. They taste like what I imagine cheetos tasted like. Light and fluffy" She nearly purred, "I've been trying to figure out how to make them better, that's all, I don't want to steal your secrets." She grinned at him.

    "Books." Her eyes grew even larger, pupils dilating slightly in pure excitement, "We had pamphlets. My dad had a big fancy book that he didn't let us touch." She paused, "I stole it." She didn't seem ashamed, "He deserved it." She assured him casually. The question as to what she expected had her laughing, chewing gently on the corner of full bottom lip, "Uh, my dad was pretty sure the entire place had been taken over by Purists and if any of us," She gestured back and forth between the two of them, connecting them for obvious reasons, "Came this close, all types of terrible things would happen, being killed the least of them. He was ... very specific about what would happen to me, being a woman." She sniffed, "But, I thought I would take my chances here." She exhaled, releasing the moment to continue on, "Here my father tell it, I should have been sold into sex slavery by now, or shot, or something." She chuckled, "You seem to be doing alright for yourself despite the purist scourge." She provided a cheeky smile, deciding that raw potatoes were not as good as her grasshoppers and went back to eating those instead.




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    Steffano
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    Re: A Girl's Gotta Eat

    Post by Steffano on Sun Mar 12, 2017 2:49 pm

    Steffano thrust a murky blade and water-logged hand toward the chimu pen again, indicating the birds being transitioned out for meals. “Those ain’t for sell,” he noted in a tone devoid of anything like sympathy. “Took the fort a good long time to raise ‘em up, get ‘em breedin’. Don’t know if they’d be anymore keen on givin’ up the eggs.” They. Whoever ‘they’ were. “But I’m sure there’s a local breeder ‘er two. Might be smart to check with the farms – alls I know is that some jerky and salty bugs ain’t gone do it for trade,” the lion added, gazing sidelong at the bat, missing not a single beat in the stroke of his knife. At least he’d been paying attention, even if he wasn’t about to stop her from sinking her teeth into an earth-fresh potato.

    The chef merely hiked an eyebrow at her offered blessing, missing her point of misunderstanding completely and, like any wise man, allowing the conversation to roll along without questioning it. “My secrets ain’t on display to be stolen,” the pale man snorted, asserting all of the confidence in his words that she’d presented in speaking of her own ‘cooking’. “Just like to be clear.”

    The potato barrel was waning on empty by this point, and the skin-stack had begun to teeter precariously; neither fact seemed worthy of the lion’s attention as he peeled on, hands skirting through the process time and time again like he’d committed it to muscle memory decades before. “Purists tend not to cross the Village – far as I know, they ain’t welcome, unbiased territory or no.” There was no comment to be made around her womanhood or how safe it may have been in the hands of the less-friendly fleshies. “You’re bold,” he admitted, though the words were bland, “Grim, but bold.” Jabali’s chuckle was replied to with but a low snort, which was quickly covered by another plunk of a potato into water so thick now that it could have been a passable stew base. “Ain’t hard to make it up here if ya’ keep ya’ head down and do what ya’ need to.” A firm mass of meat masquerading as a shoulder hunched in emphasis of how ‘easy’ it was. “So, why chimu? They ain’t exactly friendly. Or quick-to-raise.... Good, though.” Not that she sounded as if she planned on eating them.

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    Re: A Girl's Gotta Eat

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