Please Don’t Get Me Fired (Vala)

[Eoin]

The 23rd Day of Spring, 511 AV “A delivery.” A voice croaked, hoarse from a parched throat and quiet from exhaustion. It was difficult to hear over the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, what with the meat sizzling loudly on the grill, muffled conversation from the great common room and the constant movement of the chef and her apprentices, the over encumbered Dek stood lost without direction. In the drudge’s arms were several fresh fish, some still gasping for water as they attempted to wriggle free of the young man’s hold. He dared not repeat his announcement, feeling as though he was already doing something wrong by standing there. How often do you see a drudge standing still without work? Almost never, and he knew it. There were only a few Avoras in the back storage room, none of which had heard or seen the quiet Dek as they were all absorbed in their work. Though Chef Davoid usually stood guard in the storerooms, though at the moment she was preoccupied in the main kitchens with a certain assistant chef, a fairly new arrival named Eoin. He was an average looking young man, somewhat muscular and quite sturdy looking, not exceptionally handsome but possessed charming and defined features. The apprentice was dressed in a rich brown Bryda, quite plain in appearance except for a pair of muted, moss green eyes and bright copper hair. At the moment, the chef was watching over Eoin’s progress in preparing a meal for an Endal. Needless to say, it was an important task and the chef did not want any mess ups from her newest apprentice. Fortunately for the waiting Dek, the meal was near completion. It was a simple dish, grilled salmon coated in a brown sugar marinade with hints of lemon and garlic, but it made for a delicious meal. Checking over the fillet, Eoin grabbed a fork from the counter and gently nudged at the exposed side of the fish, satisfied to see a piece flake off with ease. Lifting the fillet off the grill with a spatula, he placed each both pieces gently onto the waiting plate. Finally, the nerve-wracking ten chimes of cooking were over and he could breathe a little easier for the time being. “A bit overdone, but a very good first attempt, Eoin.” The chef gave an approving nod before hurrying off to the other areas of the kitchen that required her supervision. Free from his instructor’s watchful eye, the young man let out a short exhale, relaxing various muscles that had been tensing this entire time. The daily pressure to perform well was nothing in comparison to the chef watching his every move, like a silent judge to a pleading convict, he felt as though he needed to win her approval in every aspect. Looking over the finished meal, he decided to add a bit of parsley to dress the salmon before wiping excess sauce from the sides of the plate. The meal only garnered a satisfactory response from the perfectionist in him, but Eoin had no time to waste when an Endal sat waiting. Briskly, he brought the plate over to one end of a long stone table, his grip firm and his steps smooth. “I hope this is to your liking sir. Is there anything else you would like?” He inquired with eyes frank and his smile polite. Luckily the Endal wanted nothing else at the moment and he was free from his requests. Returning to the kitchens, Eoin started immediately on his next task in washing and cutting the vegetables and meat for the Chef’s soup. There was a great deal of food vying for his attention, and since kitchens were shorthanded at the moment, he would be the only assistant chef on the job. Determined to perform well, Eoin got right to it and began carrying the vegetables over to the sink. He did not want to disappoint after all, not when he had finally made it to the kitchens and won enough of Chef Davoid’s interest to be offered an apprenticeship, a dream he had aspired to since his days as a simple Chiet.

[Vala]

Vala woke up feeling a little peckish. Her stomach was growling so loudly that she pretended it was the sound of the sea’s waves (or what she thought waves sounded like) as she meditated. Vala shook her head, trying to force herself into some semblance of peace. Balling her small hand into a fist Vala playfully punched her own stomach. “Shush you.” It hurt, but not as much as the little monster gnawing inside. Sighing, Vala tried to at least properly wrap up her meditation routine before getting up. She closed her eyes but forced herself not to clench them shut, forcing herself to relax. It took her all her willpower to clear her mind, focusing on her breathing instead of her grumbling. She sat cross-legged on her thin blanket, which was in a desperate need for a wash. Her hands rested on her knees, palm up, middle finger and thumb touching. While her crimson hair cascaded down her back, perfectly pin straight. She was the image of peace, a porcelain statue. Her breathing was slow and controlled – In for three seconds, Out for three second, In for three seconds, Out for three seconds…. So on and so forth. She tried to breathe properly: in through her nose and out through her mouth. She also tried her hardest to bring the air deep to her diaphragm instead of breathing to her chest or raising her shoulders. Too hungry to reach a deep state of lucid unconsciousness, Vala had to suffice for a calm blackness within her mind. It was an infinite and all consuming sea of blackness. Waves of thoughtlessness seemed to wash upon Vala’s temperament, slowly eroding away the stresses of the previous day. She was getting better, not even the heavy footsteps outside her room in the corridor broke her concentration. She opened her eyes gradually. Her breathing grew a little shallower, as if she was waking up from a deep sleep. She didn’t stand up just yet though. Vala had learned from experience the affects of standing up too quickly – ie. Blood draining from her head, giving her a quick blackout, where would wake up sitting in her fire pit and her bum covered in ash. Stretching out her legs, her arms, and her back, Vala tried to get as limber as possible before carefully rolling up. She was still feeling a little wobbly, not as wobbly as she would have been had she gone deeper into her mind, but still wobbly enough to widen her stance to prevent any sudden loss of balance. Before she left for the kitchens, Vala made sure to tidy up her room and lock it securely behind her. Vala quickly ate her meager morning meal, and still she found herself quite famished. Vala tried to keep her jealous glare inconspicuous, as she looked on at the group of Avora eating their lavish meal to her right. She still had a few hours until her shift in the Enclave so she figured she could work in the kitchens, sneak a couple extra bites, before she had to go… shelve books. The kitchen seemed meagerly staffed today; Vala was glad she came today. Using two leather thongs to tie up her long hair into two, high pigtails, Vala walked over to Chef Davoid, who was looking over a set of chefs preparing Endal meals. She walked up with a confidence boosted by the pain of hunger; her voice, while small, came out clear and cheery. “Excuse me Chef Davoid. I was wondering if I could help today.” The head chef nodded, a little too busy to pay attention to the eager Chiet, and pointed towards the cutting station. Vala nodded, “Will do ma’am” she walked over, well acquainted with the menial task station. She stretched out her fingers trying to get her hands ready. Reaching into the knife drawer, she pulled out her favorite blade before walking over to stand by a chef she hadn’t ever worked with before. By his dress, she assumed to be an Avora and adjusted her smile and general aura. She wasn’t sure how he felt about taking ‘samples’ so she decided to strike up a conversation to judge his character. “Good morning sir, how can I help you today?” She already knew she could just grab one of the fruits or veggies lying on the counter and begin to cut it and dump the product in the finished bowl, but she figured feigning incompetence was the easiest way to gain a man’s attention without seeming presumptuous. She batted her long eyelashes for good measure.

[Eoin]

Despite his compulsion with cleanliness and his dawdling pace, washing the vegetables took as little as five chimes with the proper technique. In fact, carrying everything back over to the cutting station felt much longer as most of the available containers were being used for cooking or were still unwashed, sitting unattended in the lye laced sinks. There was always a decent turnout of Deks in the washrooms working for that extra serving, and it was perhaps the only area in the Communal Kitchens that was never understaffed, but that did not necessarily mean they were always efficient either. In essence, after a few careful trips back and forth, arms loaded to the brim with food, Eoin was all set for the next step. Even with a task as menial and basic as preparation, the man was fully committed, devoting his attention and thus, completely unaware of a new, female presence. He only managed to catch her cheery voice as the last few words rolled off her tongue, stopping his knife in mid chop as he turned to face the newcomer. First thing he noticed was the drop in his line of vision as she was of much shorter stature, then it was the pair of attentive blue eyes. He wondered if she had something stuck in her eyes from the way she blinked, but there wasn’t any other visible signs of discomfort so he assumed her eyes were simply dry from the heat of the kitchens. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was a Yasi, judging from her youthful appearance and incompetence, meaning that perhaps this was her first time in the kitchens. However, he didn’t want to assume anything lest he make a fool of himself. “Good morning.” He returned a small, polite smile. “Might I ask if you are a Yasi?” With a gentle, inquiring gaze, Eoin got right to it and asked what he needed to know first. Though no matter the answer, it was evident that he had the authority from the way she addressed him, and he proceeded appropriately in his usual, terse manner. “Please cut up mushrooms, potatoes and carrots and put the pieces in the bowls.” Regardless of status, Eoin found himself acting the same way toward each and every one of them; politely. This often garnered confused looks from those of lower and higher castes, but the man did not mind. It was simply the safer bet, as he never wanted to offend even if it may be justified. Either way, he figured anyone who was allowed to work in the kitchens earned enough of the chef’s trust to at least be considered a self-thinker, so he kept the instructions concise as per usual. Taking it upon himself to cut the more difficult vegetables, such as the tomatoes, was just a safety measure in case his new helper wasn’t much help. “Be careful not to hurt yourself and take your time.” He added, hoping to ease any nervousness the girl might have, as he’d rather not be responsible for any accidents resulting in chopped fingers. Time was important, but Eoin was confident he could make up for it if her pace was slow. Just…don’t get me fired. He silently wished before returning to his work, finally completing the cut that the girl had long ago interrupted as he continued in silence.

[Vala]

…this was going to be easy. Vala smiled, a cute, teeth baring smile. “No sir, I am not a Yasi, sir. I am a chiet.” She bowed for good measure. “Right away sir.” She reached for a hand full of carrots, preferring to cut the vivid orange veggies to the boring lumps of brown; that and it was tastier to snack on uncooked carrots than uncooked potatoes – ick! Her quick eyes noticed that the man was purposefully reaching for the harder to cut tomatoes; not that she cared. She lowered her head and smirked at his blatant disregard for her cutesy act; he probably thought her to be a mindless twit. She wondered, just for a moment, if the incompetent act had been the proper way to approach the new chef. Either way, as long as he didn’t call her out when taking extra bites, then she frankly didn’t care what he thought of her – or did she? Take her time? Pfff. Vala would show him cutting! Her little pink tongue poked out as she cut in deep concentration. She put her knife down on the counter to free up her hands for stretching. She pulled back her fingers, trying to get them warmed up and limber. She even rolled her neck for good measure. Feeling ready for the challenge she began to peel the carrot, with quick, sure cuts. Unlike the more experienced chefs, Vala’s peelings were not paper thin, they were more like paper thick and a little choppy. She might have done better if she slowed down but Vala was too intent on proving her worth to over think it. Led on by her mild OCD, Vala put down the peeled carrot to the side, ready to be cut, but not before she finished peeling all the other carrots first. Now with Vala in the (cutting) zone, her cuts got thinner and less haphazard. In a whirlwind of motion, Vala finished peeling her set of carrots in five chimes; she had to mentally restrain herself from fist pumping with a knife in hand. Putting the knife down, Vala swept the mountain of carrot peelings and dumped them in the discards box, but not before stuffing a few scraps into her cheeks, her eyes darting side to side to see if anyone caught her. She chewed as inconspicuously as possible, frowning a little since the other chef, whose name she had yet to learn, was completely oblivious to her masterful (well for one of her competency) carrot peeling. She grabbed her knife and a freshly peeled carrot, hoping her cutting skills would maybe garner at least an appreciative glance. She began cutting, and she was doing pretty well, she even got through two medium sized carrots, that is, until she cut herself. She was smart enough to pull back before she began squirting her fluids all over the communal food... possibly an Endal’s meal (that little thought gave her a second of hesitation). It was a small nick at the very tip of her left thumb, barely even a pin prick, but enough to start a little dribble of bright red drops. Vala bit her lip, but not before she squeaked like a mouse. “I uh,” Vala stuttered, about to explain herself to the other man; he was busy doing his own work. Vala frowned, holding her tongue, and walked over to a sink to wash her hands. It stung, the paper cut that is, but the assistant librarian was use to daily paper cuts, a natural hazard to one of her occupation. She squeezed her finger until blood stopped seeping out and walked back to the cutting station to finish what she had started. She wasn’t one to just give up willy nilly, that and her stomach was still grumbling. “I uh,” Vala found herself stuttering more often of late. She squeezed her knife nick to clear her mind with the pain. “I uh, I’m sorry for going off like that...” She wasn’t sorry; she didn’t understand why she was apologizing. She kept talking though. “I uh... was just washing... I’m... I’m fine...” Vala scrunched up her nose. “And I’ll get back to cutting.” She said, finally managing to regain control of her verbal diarrhea. Ignoring the pulsing, fading pain in her thumb, Vala continued with cutting the carrots, hoping her verbal blunder hadn’t attracted the other chef’s attention enough to alert him to her mild food pilfering.

[Eoin]

Eoin nodded in acknowledgement, not bothering to spare a glance as he forced blade through food, resulting in satisfying chops against the cutting board. Briskly, he continued at the menial task, taking a bit less time than usual but still retaining the same meticulous pace. Despite his tendencies, the man knew when his efforts would be in vain and this would be such an occasion, since the quality of the diced vegetables and sliced meat would be unrecognizable when sitting in a hot broth. Moreover, Eoin was unsure how well the Chiet would perform, unable to gauge her skill from her appearance alone. Deciding to check on her progress, the man angled his head slightly toward the girl, muted eyes peering over. Eyebrows furrowed with a small, protruding tongue, the Chiet was hard at work, cutting rather haphazardly at first but began to ease into a steady tempo. Her cuts, though thick, were actually rather close to the size needed, as julienne vegetables would cook much too quickly and would cause the stew to be too lightweight. He was evidently pleased, surprisingly so in fact, gradually improving his opinion of the girl. An aspiring chef? The Avora wondered, his lips curving gently at the thought. Turning away before catching sight of her equally busy cheeks, Eoin quickly finished off the tomatoes, sweeping the slices off with a firm push of his knife. Without a pause he went straight for the ginger, rubbing the coarse skin off with the open end of a spoon. When the majority of the peel was removed, a knife was used to cut off the exposed portion, leaving the rest still covered. The remnants of skin were removed by guiding the blade toward his chest as index finger and thumb met, and after a few chops, it was back to the main ginger root. This went on for a few more chimes before the Chiet began to move, his eyes naturally following. Oddly enough, she was washing up, despite the fact that her job wasn’t complete. A short while later the girl returned, looking rather scattered as she mumbled a few words here and there, sounding unlike her previous, confident self. Eoin waited for her to finish her excuse, more confused with her assurance than displeased with her leave. “Are you…alright?” He inquired carefully, concern dancing on his tongue. She didn’t seem particularly shaken or in any sort of real pain, but then again the man was much too oblivious to really notice anything but a direct, in-your-face sign. He looked over her with greater attention than before, noting her lengthy, crimson hair and feminine appearance, but not finding the answer to his question. Then, slowly, Eoin gave up his small search and began to unload the ginger into the bowl when he noted the sparse amount of carrots. Typically the bowl would be filled with just one or two carrots, as the gaps between the slices were never completely filled. However, it didn’t take much more study to see that there was at least a quarter of a carrot missing. Slow on the uptake, the man pondered silently for a brief moment, hands still busy with another ginger piece. Then gradually, it dawned on him. The Chiet was eating them. Luckily for the girl, Eoin was rather patient and would not be angered as easily as some of the other hot-blooded Inartans. Instead, in its place was a sense of plummeting disappointment. Any brief musings of taking the Chiet on as an apprentice when his skills improve were gone in an instant. Letting go of the ginger, his fingers relaxed as both palms were placed on the board, trapping the knife handle under one. Letting a short, forceful exhale escape, Eoin turned toward the girl with hardened eyes and a stern expression. “Explain yourself.” Was all he said, flat and lacking any discernible emotions. The man fixed his unmoving gaze on her own nervous glances, and would continue to as she tried to weasel or confess her deed. No matter what she said now, his opinion of her was now anchored and his trust swallowed up by discontent. “I could have your hand for this.” Eoin warned coolly, more for her benefit than his. He was unable to truly wish for such a punishment on anyone, even if it may be proper and the norm in certain regions. Still, at the moment he simply wanted the girl to understand how real the consequences could be, and was perhaps even waiting for her to prove herself worthy of his trust once more.

[Vala]

The jig was up! But Vala wasn’t ready to give up just yet. She had bled for those meager scraps; the bite of hunger had dulled to just a niggling memory. Her body tensed as the warming rush of adrenaline flushed Vala’s pale face, as well as sharpening her senses. Her first reaction was to flinch from his cold tone, one far more hurtful than an angry one. She took a half step back, her sapphire eyes darting up to meet his moss green gaze. She lowered her stare to his lips, remembering that many of the upper class found it disrespectful when she, especially one of her stature, to look them in the eye, as an equal would. She stared intently, focusing on the downward dip of his lips, a frown of disappointment. Her eyes quickly flitted to the knife pressed beneath his palm, before returning to his face; he didn’t seem to be a violent one. That is until he mentioned having her hand for her mild carrot pilfering. She knew the rules. Everyone did. She rarely ever did it, no more than once every ten day or so, when her hunger pains really started getting to her. Vala was small, but she was also very slight. Most people assumed it to be because she was a picky eater, one who didn’t eat much, but it wasn’t just that, it was her speedy metabolism. With a chiet’s diet Vala was unable to eat as much as she would like or sometimes even needed. He wasn’t angry, she could tell from his cold words and stony face. Her own anger manifested cold, unlike many of the fiery and impulsive Inarta of Wind Reach, so she could tell, from her gut that he wasn’t faking it, she hoped. If she was wrong, then her plan would only make things worse. Her warm flush was soon paired with an equally cold sweat. Eoin had been considerate enough to keep his accusation low, unheard by the few other chefs around. She put down her own knife. She wasn’t really interested in getting him to like her, which seemed like out of the question now. She had never been caught by another, but it was only common sense that it would be hard, if not impossible to regain his trust after that. What Vala needed now was some sort of absolution; she didn’t feel guilty. Begging for mercy wouldn’t work on someone as logical, clear headed, but especially cold as the man before her. Yet again, Vala found herself turning to brutal honesty to try and get out of a sticky situation. After her soul expose with Torc, this actually didn’t seem so bad. “I uh…” She may have known what to do, but it was still hard. “uh… I did take the carrots. I thought it would be ok since the first time and a couple times afterword, I was allowed a few extra bites for volunteering my spare time in the kitchens. I know what I did now was wrong since I wasn’t given direct permission, this time.” Vala felt a little more confidence since she was actually telling the truth. Trying to make an elaborate excuse would be futile, but before she went any further she wanted to gauge his next reaction to her honesty.

[Eoin]

oocJust a brief detour here, will get back to the disciplinary action soon after.

He wasn’t a capable man in terms of understanding others, but it seemed rather clear to him that this girl didn’t comprehend the severity of her crime. She should be fully aware of how important food was to a city like their’s being as isolated as they were. There wasn’t a direct apology, as of yet, but she did admit the mistake in her assumptions. Still, Eoin was unsatisfied and discontent, her words falling far below his lofty standards. He could understand the constant ache of hunger, having been a rapidly growing boy labouring daily just a few years ago, but certainly not the audacity of her actions. There were occasions when Yshul mumbled sweet whisperings of temptation to him, but the boy at the time had held the same, unmoving principles as the man today, and dared not act out his passing thoughts. However noble that seemed, his choices were not without repercussions. Being in a constant state of agitation and exhaustion was common in those days, receiving bruise on top of bruise from losing fights or collapsing from simply working too hard. Nevertheless, the man was fair, his perspective untainted by any overwhelming biases toward injustice or defending justice. Though he threatened the Chiet unnecessarily, Eoin was forgiving but never would he forget. In his mind, she would be branded as self-serving and a sticky fingered thief until his expansive memory fails him. Now weary, the man searched for an appropriate punishment for the girl as there was no chance of her getting off scot free. Her offense was minor but could easily spiral into greater acts of thievery should her behaviour go unpunished. At least, that was his firm belief. Contemplating, his eyes seem to darken, his eyebrows furrowing gracefully as Eoin observed the character before him. She seemed to be a smart one, or at the very least, possessed enough intelligence to know when it was time to fess up to a deed. Certainly she appeared more capable of improving and learning, as evidenced by her work ethic from before. Admittedly, Eoin knew of many Yasis (how could one not in a place as together as Wind Reach?) who avoided the lower castes despite having more glaring flaws than this girl had, aside from the obvious. Why this Chiet was not an Avora became the question that began to divvy his concentration and smother his deliberations. Stealing away his attention, the man knew that if he were to return to thinking up a fair course of action, he would have to first deal with this curious thought. “Thank you for your honesty.” Beginning with a frank, cool response, his words progressed to a tepid tone as he continued. “You seem like a hardworking individual and a capable person.” It was strange that Eoin’s words were so complimentary, but perhaps he thought it an intruding question when he asked somewhat awkwardly: “Though I have to ask, why are you a Chiet?” His eyes softened from a hard cut emerald to a comfortable forest green, a thin film of puzzlement clinging onto the surface. Lacking in the words department, Eoin instead removed his hands from the cutting board, one palm gently dented with the shape of the knife handle. Now with both limbs hanging comfortably at the sides and the responsibility of discipline still lingering in his mind, he watched and waited.

[Vala]

Why did her chest hurt so much? What was it with men constantly calling her out on her caste! Vala tried, but couldn’t stifle an angry growl. The almost pitiful look he gave her just made it feel worse. Vala bit her lip hard, the metallic taste of her own blood calming her down, but just barely. She drew her palm across her watering eyes, brushing away the soon onset of tears. She couldn’t lash out at him – she was in the wrong. And they were in a public place. And he was a higher caste than her. Ok, there were a lot of reasons for her not to make a public scene, but Vala was not in the mood to find them – she was in the mood to have a tantrum. Turning almost as red as a cherry, Vala’s face flushed from pent up frustration. “I’m sorry for what I did.” She said through gritted teeth, obviously not sincerely. “But you don’t have to worry yourself about punishing me. You’ve done that well enough. I can do the rest of the punishing myself – I’ll skip meals for the rest of the day. I hope that’s enough punishment for you.” Vala was acting like a petty child, but she didn’t care anymore, as she stormed out of the kitchen, not even bothering to put her knife away. Tears streamed down to her chin as she bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from screaming. The pounding of her blood in her ears drowned out her heavy footfalls as she ran through Wind Reach’s warrens. She ran blindly, eyes bleary from crying. OOC : I’m sorry if it sounds like I ended it abruptly, but Vala is a brat and I really need to emphasize that. You can have Eoin chase after her and punish her justly or we can start another thread. Your call.

[Eoin]

No longer did her words stumble, and instead, Eoin was met with a slew of emotions he had not foreseen. Her face, boiling to a shade of red the challenged her own crimson hair, grew resentful and troubled. At one point, the man had thought he saw sparks of flames dance on her tongue as hot as the blood on her lips. He was expecting resistance, some offense and even perhaps anger. However, his flaw was in his lack of empathy and sub par ability in relating to others, never thinking that he could be treading on minefields until it detonated beneath his crude steps. Eoin blinked hard, the dryness of the kitchen suddenly affecting his bewildered eyes, his lips drawing tight as the Chiet began to unfold before him. For that moment, her speech seemed to slow in his mind, elongating and dragging as if to taunt his failure. Her words flowed like molasses, forcing him to rethink everything that had come to pass in their short meeting. Eoin felt as though he were in the wrong, as though he must’ve been for them to reach this point. Was he wrong to bring such importance to her minor offense, to regard her with such a dire atmosphere? Should he have asked in a different manner, and would that even matter? Would this girl still hate him as much as she did at this minute if he hadn’t asked at all? The man was confused, with the barrage of words that seemed endless and crushing, his pride began to drop several, silent notches. It seems they were not themselves anymore, both appearing more like children with one throwing a loud tantrum and the other, a shamed little boy wishing he could simply disappear. Just when he came to his sense, Eoin realized she had fled the aggravating situation with tears in waterfalls. He was responsible for this scene, this disturbance that shook the other Avoras from their work, adding a crowd’s curious eye to her and his embarrassment. He thought he might’ve heard a chef sigh, likely from witnessing his mouth being snagged by what should’ve been an obvious trap. Despite all his logic tripping over each other, Eoin knew there were only two available options. Either he’d follow the Chiet with the solution ending in apology and a bitter taste for the girl at best, or he stays and fulfill his duties, asking for forgiveness the next time there’s an encounter. However, the Chiet could find his tagging along a nuisance and perhaps even mortifying, as he understood the importance of preserving one’s ego. Though if he did not go, would he see her again? Their community was small, but she could leave town, fall ill, or even die the day after. A plethora of possibilities swam in his thoughts, adding unnecessary confusion to his already baffled mind. It didn’t seem right to leave the Chiet to her own devices, to not know the regret he now feels for his nosiness. Decided, Eoin signalled to the chef of his short departure, only to have it seen by her back. Disappointed, the man hoped to resolve this quickly before the next rush for meals began. Then quickly, his steps followed her heavy tread, each footfall echoing through the cavern walls of the warrens. He wasn’t particularly athletic, but neither was he slow as long strides gave the man an advantage. She could now be seen, running in awkward directions despite her body wanting to run straight, all together, dizzying and dangerous movements. Eoin sped up, not wanting to add an injury caused by his blunders to an ever growing list. Almost within arms reach, he made an attempt to grab her upper arm, nearly tripping in the process. Thankfully he made contact, and not remembering his strength, Eoin then pulled her around to face him. Her tear-stricken cheeks, reddening eyes and expression twisted in sadness simply reminded him again of his misstep. “Please.” He began gently, searching for the possibility to be forgiven in her eyes, his gaze humbled and regretful. “I’m very sorry. I hope you can take some comfort in that.” The man spoke with sincerity dripping from a voice unlike before, possessing neither a passive-aggressive tone nor pretentious politeness. Eoin took another moment to realize his grip and released immediately, irritated with his self thinking and desire to restore his pride. “Sorry.” He blurted, “It was wrong of me to ask, I had no right.” Pausing, his hand then delved into the bag and pulled out a few pieces of paper, placing them on the cool floor between them like a barrier. He thought she might find offense in his touch, having been so aggressive in getting his voice heard, and so placed the small compensation between them. Should she take a look, she’d find that they were his food vouchers and quite a few of them as well, enough fill her to the brim for at least 2 days. There seemed to be nothing he could say now, words were what got him into this mess in the first place and the man had little trust in their effect. Eoin then angled his body, turning away unsurely.

oocEver "noble" Eoin decided to chase, so I suppose the choice is up to you now XD. I would not mind it if they continued or ended their encounter here, though Vala seems like she might need a break from this guy. If we do end it here, I'd like to have a sort of follow up thread if you'd like.

[Vala]

First he calls her out on her failure at life, then he grabs her? Why couldn't he just leave her the petch alo- Vala gasped. Food vouchers? Real food vouchers? Were they really real, or were they forgeries? No - they couldn't be. Getting caught forging food vouchers was an instant death sentence, that and they were really petching hard to forge. They were real live Avora Food Vouchers! Vala's mouth began water at the just the thought of the delicious foods, the quantities of actual good meat that she rarely ever got to taste. She wiped away the dribble of tears and snot that streamed from her eyes and nose; she tried to wipe the disgusting slew on the leg of her black byrda. There she was acting like a pitiful, vulnerable Yasi, yet again.   They were fairly alone, Vala having run absent mindedly to an out of the way warren. Every whisper that he uttered echoed against the walls with a burdened heaviness, which weighed on Vala’s ears. She kept her watery gaze down, boring a hole through the vouchers with her stare, trying her best to avoid looking at him and bursting into another set of tears. Her chest still heaved, her breathing labored from the short run and heavy crying. Her stance was withdrawn; her right hand rubbing the part of her arm where he had violently pulled her to a sudden stop, it still stung a little. She would have tried to run again, every inch of her screaming to get alone, but her legs were rubbery, barely able to support her as she wobbled in her closed off pose. She shivered as a cross breeze hit her; she hugged herself tighter. Her bone white fingers, ice against the flushed heat of the flesh of her arms. Even her hair was a total mess. In her run the leather thongs that had kept her hair up in high pony tails had slipped down. Now her hair lay plastered to her face by the cold sweat on her brow and the tears on her cheeks. The crimson wisps obscured her face like a veil.   The short memory of his touch still burning, with the physical handprint emblazoned like a fresh cattle brand, made her queasy. She tried to push it from her thoughts, but still gagged as her stomach churned with memories and nightmares. It took her at least another five chimes after he had offered, even apologizing, to notice that he hadn’t tried to touch her again, offering the vouchers as one would offer food to a wild animal. The small, and most likely unintentional kindness, in regard to her fear, brought even more tears to her eyes – reminding her further of her weakness. She gagged again, but her stomach was so empty that only liquid spurted to her mouth. She swallowed the watery bile in shame.   Her mind spun, leaving her light headed, as she fought both urges to melt into the ground and run to him for a hug – the latter would have probably just led her straight into a screaming fit, and then to an slow but inevitable black out from hyperventilation. Trying to calm the asinine girl was either a death wish or act of kindness befit a heavenly guardian, but whatever Eoin’s motivation was, it was a miracle he had lasted so long before the disgustingly snotty girl. When her heaving breaths finally settled to more of a severe sniffle, Vala attempted to verbalize what she was feeling, albeit quite rudimentary. Using almost all of her will power she managed to disregard the touch part and actually move on to a more relevant topic. “Wh-why did you c-c-come after muh-m-me?” And more importantly, “Wh-why a-a-are you so-sorry?” She had been completely in the fault – pilfering food in Wind Reach was a major offence. She even had the nerve to talk back to him – an Avora! She was stupid, she was wrong, and she was bad. Why was he apologizing to her? She hated feeling the shame she felt now, brought out further by his kindness. Why did he have to be so petching kind and sincere? Anything else – anger, rage, abuse – would have brought out her own cold rage, but this? All this mercy he showed her, all this unintentional pity could only bring out shame – stifling any anger she could have felt for him. She hated herself. And she hated him for making her feel so low – so much like a Dek – having to steal food. “Wh-why? I DON’T DESERVE THIS!” She shrieked, digressing back to another sobbing fit. She tried to push him away with her tears, a pitiful mess. She wanted to be alone, though she knew, she needed someone, anyone to remind her that she wasn't a worthless piece of petch. A fear that Eoin had unintentionally brought up, incidentally, in the cruelest way possible. OOC : It seems this pity party is an unstoppable train. And Vala totally doesn't deserve someone as knightly as Eoin in her selfish life.