Fellahin
and if i only could, i'd make a deal with god
334 Posts
Ooc — Sprout
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For @Legend @Rashepses @Rooke @Toula
Sorry this took me so long to put up T-T No posting order! <3
backdated to after this thread in January
Sorry this took me so long to put up T-T No posting order! <3
backdated to after this thread in January
After depositing Rooke into the royal dining room, the usually composed wolf-dog had rushed to the kitchen to prepare the meal, forcing all other servants out and warning them not to come back.
That had been twenty minutes ago. Several nervous fellahin waited outside of the kitchen, cringing at every loud and echoing BANG! or SLAM! that resounded from behind the rocky wall. Each sound seemed to rattle the very bones of the palace, sending shivers down the spines of those who lingered anxiously in the corridor.
They had drawn straws, and now the unlucky coyote was sent around to the entryway to check on the state of their beloved kitchen. She peeked around the corner, her eyes wide and cautious. The new man, the one who had forced them all out, was pacing back and forth, his usually silky coat a deranged mess of blood and berry pulp. The sight was a stark contrast to his usual immaculate appearance, making the scene all the more unsettling.
Do... do you need some help?she squeaked, daring a step into the chamber on trembling legs. The man rounded on her, a wild look in his eye.
Help?Machiavelli's voice was a chilling whisper that sliced through the air like a knife. He closed the gap between them in an instant, his expression softening and a warm smile spreading over his slender maw.
Why, thank you,he purred, gathering her forepaws between his own in an iron grasp. His touch was gentle, almost tender, but his grip was unyielding.
Do you know what would help me, darling?His stained-glass eyes blinked open, a sincere expression softening the marble features.
The girl swallowed hard, unable to tear her gaze away from his, but the unexpected gentility gave her the courage to speak,
Wh-what would help?
Warning your friends not to come back into this kitchen until I'm done, alright?His eyes blinked back shut in a grin,
The next person who comes in here is getting added to the menu, alright?He let go of her paws, the sudden absence of his touch as jarring as its appearance.
The girl’s face paled, and she stumbled back, tripping over her own feet in her haste to flee. Machiavelli watched her go, his smile fading as quickly as it had appeared. He turned back to the chaotic kitchen, pearl-pink nails clicking ominously on the stone floor.
Alright, Machi,he muttered to himself, wiping a streak of berry juice from his muzzle,
focus. You can do this.
——
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Machiavelli stepped back, surveying his handiwork. The dishes were far from perfect, but they were done. He allowed himself a small, satisfied smile, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.
There,he murmured, wiping his paws on a splattered pelt.
That should do it.
With a final, wary glance at the room's entrance, he began plating the meal with the care of an artist, each dish a testament to his frantic effort. He would impress the Pharaoh, and no one would dare question his abilities—or his sanity—again.
I don’t believe in God, but I believe that you’re my savior
Legend was on watch duty, and in the very same process of being an idle watcher, saw the terrors of fellahin on fellahin interactions.
She did not know how to help! And, she tried to in the beginning, going to mimic the placement of herbs before her wrist was met with a smack! She learned her lesson very quickly!
Machiavelli was meticulous with his meals. Carefully laid out spices, cuts of raw meat upon clean stone! The scent of crushed wine lingered upon the air, and the blood upon each plate was rich in iron.
At some point, she had reached sneakily for a cut with her greedy teeth. Closer! Closer! A trembling centered upon her bottom lip, she could taste it just staring! Feral eyed, going for when he was not looking with an outstretched neck.
Before she could reach, a WHOMP hit the back of her head and she snapped back into place.
The demon had stared hard eyed at each plate. It would taste best in her mouth. It would look best, even, in her mouth. It would feel best in her mouth. It would smell best in her mouth. It would sound better in her mouth. The colors would be richer in her mouth, and by the time the man had finished making the meals for the royals- well, at the end.. No food had made it into her belly. ):
She did not know how to help! And, she tried to in the beginning, going to mimic the placement of herbs before her wrist was met with a smack! She learned her lesson very quickly!
Machiavelli was meticulous with his meals. Carefully laid out spices, cuts of raw meat upon clean stone! The scent of crushed wine lingered upon the air, and the blood upon each plate was rich in iron.
At some point, she had reached sneakily for a cut with her greedy teeth. Closer! Closer! A trembling centered upon her bottom lip, she could taste it just staring! Feral eyed, going for when he was not looking with an outstretched neck.
Before she could reach, a WHOMP hit the back of her head and she snapped back into place.
The demon had stared hard eyed at each plate. It would taste best in her mouth. It would look best, even, in her mouth. It would feel best in her mouth. It would smell best in her mouth. It would sound better in her mouth. The colors would be richer in her mouth, and by the time the man had finished making the meals for the royals- well, at the end.. No food had made it into her belly. ):
June 07, 2024, 11:53 AM
Preened to what he assumed was satisfaction, Rooke is once again whisked away to helplessly pad after Machi. Swiftly guided through the winding halls of Muat-Riya, Rooke's mind spun with each twist and turn through the dark tunnels. The moment he began to revise his mental map, he is introduced to a broad chamber. The absence of the narrow cavern hallways eerily prickled along his pelt. With each pin prick came a drop of dread. It welled from his core, anchored his feet to the floor, and turned to stone in his throat.
Ordered to wait there until it is time to dine, Rooke watched silently as his one lifeline drifted out of reach. The room weighed heavier upon him when left to face it alone. There was a flurry of movement in the shadows along the wall. His eyes adjusted to identify coyotes bustling about. Each moved adeptly within the current he himself was trapped in.
He can distantly hear a catastrophe in the making in the direction Machiavelli left in. Heart in his throat, Rooke's eyes turned to his own feet. The only constant in the room. His feet against the floor.
Someone made a sound at him. He could not hear it beyond the water in his ears, but it was a question wasn't it? When the fellahin, nameless to him, asked again he shook his head with a smile. No, no. He did not need anything. Yes, he was quite alright. Don't worry. Don't look. He was quite alright. Sitting there—all alone—with nothing. Not even his one friend.
When the fellahin moves off to continue buzzing around this desert beehive Rooke attempts to clear his throat and set back his shoulders. He could hear his family scold his poor manners.
Sit up straight! All of your paws flat on the floor, and—don't you dare forget to tuck your tail in, now!
When Machi returned to the dining hall to begin plating the table, he would find Rooke sitting there in silence. His outward appearance statuesque. Only Rooke's eyes moved within his stony features to watch as the most important meal in his short life is served.
Ordered to wait there until it is time to dine, Rooke watched silently as his one lifeline drifted out of reach. The room weighed heavier upon him when left to face it alone. There was a flurry of movement in the shadows along the wall. His eyes adjusted to identify coyotes bustling about. Each moved adeptly within the current he himself was trapped in.
He can distantly hear a catastrophe in the making in the direction Machiavelli left in. Heart in his throat, Rooke's eyes turned to his own feet. The only constant in the room. His feet against the floor.
Someone made a sound at him. He could not hear it beyond the water in his ears, but it was a question wasn't it? When the fellahin, nameless to him, asked again he shook his head with a smile. No, no. He did not need anything. Yes, he was quite alright. Don't worry. Don't look. He was quite alright. Sitting there—all alone—with nothing. Not even his one friend.
When the fellahin moves off to continue buzzing around this desert beehive Rooke attempts to clear his throat and set back his shoulders. He could hear his family scold his poor manners.
Sit up straight! All of your paws flat on the floor, and—don't you dare forget to tuck your tail in, now!
When Machi returned to the dining hall to begin plating the table, he would find Rooke sitting there in silence. His outward appearance statuesque. Only Rooke's eyes moved within his stony features to watch as the most important meal in his short life is served.
June 25, 2024, 01:10 PM
Semer-wati arrived in a gust of henna and cardamom– sated, exhausted even by the afternoon’s sojourn with his winsome flaxen girl. His freshly bathed furs fell in an elegant silk line along the crest of his spine as he took one look at their company and smirked, remembering this evening’s jest.
“How delighted we are for you to join us,” he crooned to the dog and stood at one head of the long limestone slab, awaiting @Toula’s entrance before seating himself.
“How delighted we are for you to join us,” he crooned to the dog and stood at one head of the long limestone slab, awaiting @Toula’s entrance before seating himself.
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