OM NOM NOM (or: The Hadriel Community Kitchen Initiative)

[utulien_aure]

Who: OPEN
What: With the gods out of commission, Hadriel attempts to feed itself
Where: A makeshift firepit, set up on the southwest bank of the river
When: Roughly December 13-26, after Fingon's Network post
Warnings: The threat of starvation, dubious food, possibly slight fire burns.



The Null may begone, but the damage they inflicted remains: to the city's infrastructure, to it's citizens, to the gods themselves. With Sorrow dead and Hope out of commission, one problem in particular is critical: Hadriel's food supply is dwindling, and many lack the skills to catch and cook their own meals.

That's where the fire pit comes in: a great hole dug into the earth for a cooking fire, topped by a metal grate. Use of the pit is open to all in the city: anyone who hunts or gathers food can bring it here to be prepared, and anyone who shows up hungry will be fed.

The pit also serves as a place to find interested hunting partners; in an unfamiliar and extremely harsh environment, it's best not to wander off on your own for too long. Anyone interested in hunting can take a look at a slate set up near the pit: on it is a list of volunteers looking for an expedition to join.


[OOC: This is an open log, so feel free to top-level to your heart's content.]

Comments

[hot_mes]

That sounds an awful lot like the Null and their god-killers could be back. Greeeaaaaaat. Law plops a finished fish fillet into the clean bucket with a little more force than necessary.

"Then we'd better do more than just survive. It's on us to prepare so that if anyone tries again, they'll be met with more than panic and fumbling."

[bythewaves]

"That would be my suggestion." Maglor shrugs. "Of course, I could just be being pessimistic, I suppose. But I have seen this pattern before, and I do not hold much hope that someone, somehow, will try again."

[hot_mes]

"Someone always does." Life never really does settle, does it? Now, if you'll excuse him, he'd like to wash fish guts off his hands before touching the food.

"If you're hungry, I'll grill a couple more. At least this is the one thing I really can't screw up." Grilled fish is one of his favorites, and luckily, the one thing Law has known how to cook since childhood. Spear it on a stick and hold it over the fire, what else do you need?

[bythewaves]

Maglor smiles at him wryly.

"People are in some ways, very predictable, no? I would not mind - I think we have both earned ourselves a meal after that work."

[hot_mes]

Law busies himself for a moment preparing, using whatever tools have been gathered and are on hand to benefit the whole community. It's a nice fire pit, with the grate already set up, all he has to do is keep an eye on it so it doesn't burn. Thanks, elves, you're all bros.

"That's the one thing I've learned here," he admits, stepping back and removing his hat for a moment to mop his brow. As convenient as the fire is, it's also hot. "It doesn't matter what world they're from, people are all pretty much the same."

[bythewaves]

Maglor seasons the fish with salt - they really don't have much, but salt, at least, they do have - and doesn't seem to mind the flames.

"Aye - it is, on one hand, rather comforting. And extremely frustrating, on the other!"

[hot_mes]

Mmm good old salt. This right here? This is how Law wouldn't mind living for a while. Nothing fancy, just basic survival with real food and fire, and magical water that makes you feel funny...

Ahem.

"It's hard enough dealing with people," he says, completely commiserating with Maglor's feelings, "I don't know if I want to throw unpredictability into the mix."

[bythewaves]

At least no one has hurt anyone yet? Probably?

"Exactly!" Maglor laughs softly. "Besides, I am too old for unpredictability. It is enough to know that people will do as people will. I've enough of politicking to last me several lifetimes."

[hot_mes]

There's a little roll of his eyes and toss of his head as he supervises the grill. "That also doesn't really change no matter what world you're in."

Unlike some pirates, though, Law is far better with the machinations of politics and justice, and how to manipulate them. Most of the others would rather just blunder straight into fights. "What do you think, then," he asks as casually and subtly as he can, "of a place like this? With people from all walks of life. I get that some of them are dead, and don't have anywhere to go, but the rest of us...home is still a goal. Even if we weren't going to reach it through Delight."

[bythewaves]

"I hate it - a cage is still a cage, no matter how gilded. I love it - it has given me back my dead and gone, the heroes and villains of long ago and far away, my beloved dead."

[hot_mes]

That's actually something Law's been wondering about ever since a certain dream. Beloved dead, huh? "Is it worth it? Seeing them again. Even though you know this is a life they weren't supposed to have."

[bythewaves]

"Always."

Maglor nods. "I have missed them all so! It has been so very long, and I did not think to see any of them again."

[hot_mes]

"But...what happens when we get our chance to go home?"

If pressed he would admit that he wouldn't mind Rosinante seeing him all grown up, but how could he pull him from the peace of death and then watch him go back to it? It's a hard thing for Law to understand.

[bythewaves]

"Nelyo promised he'd try to find me. Elrond, too. We will be parted again, but we always were. I can hope, perhaps, it won't be too long."

[hot_mes]

"Ah." Rather than ask outright if any of them are dead, Law works out that information through other questions. He thinks he's got the full picture, though he probably doesn't. "I suppose, if you live that long...everybody's somewhere."

[bythewaves]

"Mm. And ... well. Part of us being bound to the world means our dead can return, eventually. So... perhaps one day, if they heal enough, I will see even those of my kinsmen again."

[hot_mes]

"Makes sense." Law goes quiet after that, focusing on the fish, lifting the makeshift skewers to keep the tender flesh from getting stuck to the grill and occasionally flipping them. He's lost in his thoughts, eyes shadowed by his hat. What could he say to that?

[bythewaves]

Maglor's eyes are far away, sad and lonely, but when the fire pops he startles a little, drawn back to the present.

"What of yourself?" He asks, reaching over to help.

[hot_mes]

His head comes up quickly. "Hm? What about me?" What were they talking about, again? Oh right. "There's no one here that I know. As far as I can tell, there never has been."

He's wrong about that, but only slightly. No one here in five months has ever mentioned meeting another pirate, let alone anyone by name. Law decides that's the question to answer, rather than reveal anything about why he was asking after the dead.

[bythewaves]

"That is a grief." Maglor says sympathetically. "Although a blessing too I suppose, in some ways. It sounds as if you have made good friends at the least!"

[hot_mes]

The huff under his breath isn't even remotely close to a laugh, though it sounds like it wanted to be. It tried. "Grief? No. I've spent months away from my crew before, they'll survive and so will I."

He doesn't even touch the latter remark. Friends? We'll see.

[bythewaves]

"But it does not mean it does not hurt." Maglor points out mildly, although he won't push more than that.

"Although with all the strangeness of time going on, one must wonder if any notice that we are missing when - and if - we return, and if we will even recall this place at all."

[hot_mes]

"It doesn't," Law volunteers, idly moving the fish around some more. Like a good grillmaster. Whatever others might think, he's honest about it. He doesn't actually feel those feelings.

"...I've heard some, here and there. Not sure exactly who. But it sounds like that's not an issue at all. It's the only reason I haven't been urgently trying to force the Door issue with any of the gods."

[bythewaves]

Maglor hums.

"Where for my kinsfolk, there is no real reason to return... what have we to return to, after all, but grief and tears unnumbered?"

He looks across the firepit to where Maedhros and Fingon can be spotted in the distance, and then says lowly, almost to himself.

"And yet, and yet, might there not be hope for us after all?"

[hot_mes]

He follows Maglor's gaze toward Fingon and nods slowly. "I can't answer that," he notes. "That's for you and yours to discover, I guess."

He flips the fish one more time and then picks one up, silently judging it before taking a bit. "Mm. Lunch is ready."