Quinten Log 6 - 18 09 2005

Salamandastron: Kitchens

• -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Salamandastron *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The kitchens of Salamandastron are the center of much activity, charged

with feeding all the inhabitants of the mountain. Countless cooks in

white apronsscurry about, brushing hurriedly past the obviously uninvited

non-culinary hares. Food is everywhere! Some tables, covered in flour,

fruit juice, and cutting boards, are apparently used for food preparation,

while on others sit cooling cakes, well-tossed salads, and other finished

products. Though the numerous ovens occupy the side of the room farthest

from the door, their combined heat is enough to substantially warm the

whole room and all its occupants. And with the heat come the scents, as

the aromas of various foods, spices, and seasonings waft around the room,

enough to tempt even the most stoic beast.

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With:

[IC] Howard

Quinten is sat on a stool peeling spuds, he's been doing it for two hours now after he let his tongue run away again and he insulted one of the officers by speaking his mind,

Howard's arrival is heralded by grunts and mutterings as he lugs a heavy crate into the kitchen. The crate clinks as he sets it down roughly on a work top. I seems he's been conscripted for kitchen duty, however it's some what more rewarding in his case. He helps himself to the contents of the crate, removing a single bottle of wine and tucking it under his arm. A chef wanders over and removes the crate, nodding at Howard as he does so.

In a room page-pose, Howard baps the Quinten.

Quinten raises his head and frowns at the hare, his ears tied back behind a head scarf and the white smock he's wearing for this spattered with various kitchen gunk "Oh Howard hello there me chum"

Howard wanders over to Quinten without so much as a tut or a roll of the eyes. He regards Quinten and then the potatoes. "What was it that you did *this* time?" he asks.

Quinten sighs and puts another peeled potatoe on the side "I spoke back when i should a kept me muzzle shut"

Howard seats himself on a free stool and places the bottle at his feet "Is there ever a time when it should be open?". He reaches forward and picks up one of the peeled spuds, wiping a loose sliver of skin from it and turning it over in his paws. "You missed a bit." he says, reaching over to a spare peeler and slicing off the offending brown with one swift pass of the peeler.

Quinten sighs "I don't know Howard, seems i can't do anything right here, i'm trying my best you know, but nothing seems to please the blighters

Howard tosses the potatoe back to its point of origin and picks up another, carefully running the peeler over it while bracing the root vegetable with the free paw. "Need practice," he says quietly, engrossed in the activity "You need to acclimates to the military environment."

Quinten sighs and drops another spud on his done pile "Maybe...but i'm half thinking maybe i should quite and go home, i think it'd make them happy to see my ruddy back"

Howard flips his spud over and begins to meticulously skin that side "Maybe. But whose ever heard of any beast who quit the patrol. Names are made here bucko. Ageless legacies that will last as long as there are beasts to think of them.". Well, who knew Howard could be so poetic?

Quinten chuckles and shakes his head "it won't be the name of Quinten i can tell you that, i answer back, i get up late, i'm totally inept with anyother weapon besides the javelin and my paws."

Howard begins anew on another spud, putting the current aside. "You name any officer round here and I bet you any money they were impudent little whelps like you back in their callous youth."

Quinten nods and looks at the spud pile, it seems he's peeled them all at last, "Maybe.....and i bet they had to do this too, no wonder they sent mehear, look at my paws"

Howard looks to the indicated appendages and furrows his brow for a moment before attending to his potato. "Whats wrong with them?"

Quinten holds them up, they are shrivelled from the potatoe water, pruny and the fur is bedraggled "Look ruined"

Howard shakes his head. "Pfft. Nothing a quick dry won't cure." he finishes the spud and gently puts it aside "It could be a lot worse than a little wet. They could be detached for starters."

Quinten nods "That is true Howard," he looks up as a chef approaches and salutes "All done sah." they nod and smile "You can go recruit, try and be careful next timeok"

Howard raises a paw in greeting at the chef as he passes by him, possibly indicating that there is some kind of agreement between them.

Quinten doesn't really see anything other then a friendly wave, he's not the brightest lad after all, he stands back up and stretches "Ok then...well i guess i'd better get out of here"

Howard nods and stands. Brining his bottle up with him as he does so. "You probably should. I believe the recruits have training scheduled."

Quinten blinks "oh no i'll be late," he begins to run towards the door, still dressed in the white work smock

Howard watches the young hare dash out. He doesn't bother to tell him about the smock. It will make an amusing story.