Heh, it's been a while, right?
But I have about THIS much work to do and this 'an that and etc...
I'm here now, so enjoy.
Penelo arrived at the palace in the bright and early hours of the morning; very brightand very early - she hadn't slept well last night, partly because of Vaan's absence and also due to her brain refusing to shut down. So she'd spent half the designated 'sleeping time' (a.k.a. night) formulating plans and scams that'd get her by the guards following Larsa everywhere like a rash.
Step one of the 'get Larsa to smuggle us out of Arcadia' plan was fairly easy: all she had to do was find out as much of his schedule as she could - knowing when The Emperor was likely to be out for a stroll or in a meeting or penned up in one of those studies would help her get close to him, as would picking up on what 'jobs' got the servants near these places. She was after all, a nameless drifter that everyone just assumed to be working here, which gave her a certain power of anonymity.
But upon her seemingly inconspicuous entrance through the kitchen door, just as the sun was beginning to grace the horizon, Penelo was immediately caught out by no other than the perpetually aggravated Marcus Stumps, who seemed rather overjoyed that the new girl was so eager to work.
"Good t'see ya in on time," he growled in an almost friendly sort of way, while Penelo tried not to choke on the thought of this being 'on time', although looking around there didn't seem to be that many people about – just a few kids lighting the stoves and the odd man or woman bustling aimlessly through the day's materials.
"Well," she shrugged as if she'd planned it all along, "I guess I just really …wanted …to …work?" every word seemed to sound more foreign than the last considering Penelo's situation, as she realized how used she'd gotten to 'work' being all pirating and pillages - which incidentally rarely started before three in the afternoon.
Marcus chuckled at Penelo and beckoned her towards a counter by snapping his fingers like she was some obediently trained dog, which she definitely wasn't…but after losing a stare-out and being amiably threatened for not obeying orders, she was forced to fulfill the beck and call of her new 'master.'
Upon her reluctant approach to the counter Penelo saw that Marcus was just beginning to pluck a bird for the breakfast arrangements, he instructively slid the thing to her along the surface and unhooked another from a rail above him, where they were hanging from pegs by their bound feet.
"Pull against tha direction of the feathers an don' be afraid ta really yank it." He announced and began ripping handfuls of feathers off the new victim, and as she wasn't exactly a pacifist Penelo quickly followed suit, despite having a sneezing fit when the down got up her nose and made Marcus laugh again – he actually seemed to be much nicer when the kitchens were empty.
Neither spoke much, except for Marcus occasionally giving her some small tip or instruction about the task at hand - not that it was very hard - so they simply carried on in a comfortable silence as the flow of people began to fill the surrounding area.
In what seemed like no time there was a young girl breaking eggs into a bowl on Penelo's left, and another slicing bacon on Marcus's right, and he occasionally spat an order or reprimand when they slipped up.
"Oi! There's shell in it," he told the girl across from Penelo - who, while keeping her nose out of the dispute had moved on by this time to carving one bird (Marcus had merely given her a knife and said to do exactly as he did) while starting to pluck another in the spare seconds her commanding officer took to abuse those around them, "it'll be yer fuckin brains in tha bowl if y'not careful." He said while roughly clipping the ear of the trainee, inadvertently knocking Penelo in the process.
"Ah, sorry chik," he muttered as he went back to his work, while Penelo began to worry exactly what she'd got herself into by turning up so early (he'd actually apologized to her) – Marcus's good books definitely appeared to be among the list, whether that was good or bad in itself she couldn't tell.
Somewhere between carving up a second bird and taking precise instructions on how to butterfly a fillet of the creature (and somehow managing to get both done albeit in a slightly haphazard way – earning herself a few 'encouraging' threats from him for her errors,) Penelo realized that the kitchens were heaving with people. It was just lucky for her that everyone appeared to give 'Stumpy' an arms length at all times, so they hadn't been disturbed yet…although their peaceful arrangement was soon to be disrupted by a certain 'visually impeded' individual.
"So! He's got himself anuther prodigy!" A jarring accent Penelo was sure she recognized snorted over her shoulder, but she kept her concentration on the knife-edge and only cutting the things she was supposed to with it; following Marcus's instructions to each exact detail. The last thing she wanted was to lose was the benevolence and protection of probably the most terrifying man in the Emperor's service, as it didn't take long before Penelo realized that everyone (bar one) was afraid of Marcus.
"Don't cut too deep or it'll fall apart on the griddle," he dictated and she immediately corrected herself; ashamedly desperate not to screw up… then while wondering what would become of this meal-in-the-making Penelo suddenly remembered: 'The Emperor! Larsa!' She'd completely forgotten about him.
The man at her back leaned in closer and spread his revolting breath all along the back of Penelo's neck while she worked, making her shudder and tighten her grip around the handle of the knife - it was before noon and she already wanted to kill people.
"Ah, its that lil' snake-killer," the man with the bandana, still wearing the bandana, muttered lewdly as Penelo held her breath.
"You takin this one undar yur wing then too, eh Stumpy?" he added just as Penelo finished up the second bird, which Marcus snatched away and replaced with an Arcadian melon, along with a cleaver not dissimilar to the one she got the better of that viper with yesterday.
"Segment it an' pick out any pips. An' always use a different knife in fruit ta meat." he instructed before turning away and giving the man with the bandana a rough, backwards shove into the greater mass of people.
"Jes knock it off," he snarled in a low tone, "Girl arrived afore any of you sad fucks got y'asses outta bed, so I gaev her sum'work ta do. Now yu betta make up fer y'lost time and get back ta fckin work!" The man with the bandana turned a bright red as Marcus knocked him aside and went back to Penelo's countertop, bandana-man slinking off muttering curses until 'Stumpy's' mood lightened up, if such a thing could occur.
"What was that about?" asked Penelo innocently, trying to master the art of cutting the somewhat formidable fruit she'd been given without it rolling away and/or getting drenched in the sticky juice it tended to bleed.
"Ah nutin." Marcus replied shortly, stirring seasoning into the eggs the girl formerly on Penelo's left had scrambled. Siding with her better judgment she left the issue as was - Marcus didn't look like he'd appreciate pestering right now.
Instead she concentrated on removing the ridiculous amount of seeds embedded in the fleshy fruit, once she'd managed to hack it apart that was, which was a feat in itself – did the' higher-ups' (she was already beginning to coin phrases from here) really need the pips picked out of their fruit for them? Surely Larsa would…
"Dammit! Larsa!" she spat to herself in annoyance: how could she forget about him twice? She didn't actually work here, so why was she letting herself get so distracted?
"Eh?" Marcus coughed as he palmed the mixing bowl onto another chef and took up some other task, as to be honest Penelo has lost count of how many things he was doing at once – hopefully he wouldn't expect that of her eventually…dammit she didn't work here!
"Oh, nuthi…I mean nothing," she stuttered, and luckily Marcus seemed to accept it or not care - either would do for her.
"To th'hobs." He boldly stated all of a sudden, before taking off across the kitchen like a man on fire. Penelo assumed she was supposed to follow and gave a hasty chase, arriving at the monstrous, twelve-ring stoves just as Marcus shoved another chef away to open up a spot and take over whatever the woman had been cooking at the time. He then did the same for Penelo, and she thus found herself with the handle of a pan spitting oil as if it were possessed by the devil itself; not to mention the smell of fried food making her hungry and within seconds Marcus bellowing that she was doing it all wrong.
It was at this point that Penelo knew she ought make her excuses and try to pass herself off as a waiter for the 'morning meal' (breakfast was an understatement) in hopes of serving Larsa at the table. But try as she might she couldn't run off while Marcus was telling her to turn the heat down, flip, add oil, drain oil, give him the pan, take this, use that, chuck the other on it…so on and so forth. Nor could Penelo abandon her post while being told that she'd got it all wrong, because there was just part of her subconscious that hated to leave things not done properly - she basically loved being right (Vaan was often the victim of this trait.)
But time's wicked way soon stole the hours off the morning. The beginning stages of Penelo's Larsa-Master-plan - namely gathering information - appeared to drag out far longer than she'd estimated due to 'unseen complications', otherwise known as 'breakfast' and 'burnt bacon'.
However, breakfast had naturally ran into Brunch, which was pursued by a tide of late, but usually complicated and obsessively particular demands for sustenance from 'the slobs of the nobility', who had half the staff (her and Marcus included) rushed off their feet as a result. Then after that panic died down there were silly things like morning tea and high tea and calami-tea and something the Lords, called 'elevensies' – an entirely pointless and wasteful concept as far as Penelo could see. But as it was, before she knew it she found herself calmly spooning the filling into a quiche for early lunch while chatting to a young boy making the crusts next to her.
"I don't normally do things like this, y'see," she explained to the doe-eyed lad as she shoveled away at the mixture. Marcus had sped off to run stock of the cold rooms in preparation for dinner, trusting her to keep busy in his absence like a good cook's apprentice.
"I'm s'pposed to be in the northern reaches of Rozzaria, a place called Amber Cove if I remember correctly… me and my partner were gonna" it suddenly occurred to Penelo that bragging her future plans and past discrepancies wasn't the best of ideas in a heavily populated kitchen.
"I mean we were going to work for him." She hesitantly corrected herself with a mental slap, "yeah… got a place working in the kitchens…the Palace here is nice and all, but… I like the Rozzarian countryside. It's so pretty. Although that aside, I actually hail from Dalmasca, though I haven't been back there in a year or two because we've been traveling a lot…but yunno, enough of me, where'd you come from? Are you a Local boy?" Turning to the side Penelo realized the person she was now talking to wasn't actually the same one she'd started with.
"Wait…you're not you are you?" She demanded poignantly and the new accomplice shook his head, hoping that it was the right thing to do – as anyone Stumpy took on was definitely not to be crossed, and Penelo had definitely been earmarked as his new right-hand-man (or woman: whatever really.)
'Dammit Pen,' she told herself, 'stop talking so much, aren't you supposed to be unhappy? And whatever happened to the Larsa plan?'
"Goddam Larsa…" She muttered again, but was careful this time not to be overheard, "I need to find him…hey, you got the time, kid?" she had to admit one of the best things about not being a child anymore (she was twenty-five) was being able to call all teenagers 'kid.'
"Uh, I think it's about thirteen thirty," he answered meekly and Penelo did a double take on him, gawping like stuck onion head.
"Seriously?! Damn I need to get going…" she grumbled while handing the quiche over to the nearest, free-handed assistant and went dashing off to find the head waiter – a woman she believed to be named Sylvie (Marcus had filled her in on the main characters of the kitchen a while back.)
"Hey," Penelo chirped upon making the woman's trademark frizzy hair out near the doors, regaling at the miracle of 'employment' (be it false) in perking up her mood and whole personality no end. Just being busy just seemed to put Vaan right out of her head…although he'd come back with a vengeance and she'd have to start pretending to slice onions in case anyone saw her eyes watering.
"Any orders for the Emperor?" she inquired, and the middle-aged woman narrowed her eyes at the younger recruit and glanced down at an open schedule in her hand.
"What'sit to ya?" she cawed distrustfully, but Penelo but on her best face of deception and grinned.
"I'm new here, I was in the wrong place this'mornin so they just sent me over to start for the lunchtime rush," she announced and as an afterthought she added, "oh…and sorry I'm late." Sylvie stared at the 'new girl' then down at the register.
"Rosetta Powell?" she inquired, having (while thinking herself quite the mastermind) 'mistaken' the surname just to check the girl's authenticity. But Penelo was already one step ahead of the game: reading documents upside down and in the arms of another persons was child's play to her – and also the first rule of identity theft through checkpoints.
It was in fact this woman's downfall that she used the first name of a new girl who'd failed to turn up that day, as it made it all the easier for her imposter.
"No, you must have it down wrong," she replied brightly, "I'm Rosi Gonzalez, right?" even before checking the line the woman knew Penelo was right, and begrudgingly checked her off with an absence warning.
"Nice ta see y'finally made it then," the wiry woman spat, "an wots all this bout his'ighness? He's nat seein anee'one" Penelo sighed under her breath and wondered if Larsa was always going to be this much trouble to get in contact with.
"I've word from the other staff that he's watin for an order," she remarked as if she couldn't care less, then studying the line of plates and trays on the outgoing counter spotted a serving that was from the first breakfast – what in gods was it still doing there?
Sylvie followed the girl's confused gaze and coolly named it as "Emperor's breakfast. Cold." then went along the row of meals reciting a list of things prepared for Larsa (just in case) and left to fester when 'The Lord' himself didn't send for them.
Penelo couldn't help thinking what an untimely waste of food it was, especially when she knew how hungry people went in Old Arcades…although, by the looks of it the Emperor was sharing their burden, "Wait, hasn't La-His Highness eaten all day?" she suddenly asked with what might've been concern in her tone, but the woman merely shrugged.
"Not as far as I know." Outraged, Penelo snatched up the nearest and freshest serving to hand (a plate of that damn annoying melon) and stormed out of the kitchens with it in hand – the boy needed to eat didn't he? It was also as good an excuse as any to get to her 'target'.
"Heh," Sylvie cackled and poked a vague acquaintance with her glass elbow, "new ones jus gone up Emperor's room without orders." The companion proceeded to burst into fits of mirthful snorts.
"Tell mi wen she's back," they begged of Sylvie, "I want ta'see the tears. Shi lookes lik a weeper."
As mornings went for Larsa Ferrinas Solidor, he was not having a good one. The young Emperor would've sworn on his entire family's graves (and if he so desired he could've, the catacombs were always open) that there was a live creature inside his skull, currently attempting to claw its way out and continue its reign of torture.
While weighing up the values of throwing himself out a window over remaining in bed, and by default in pain, there came a sudden knock at his door; which felt like three well-aimed rifle shots to the head in the Emperor's current 'state'.
The curious thing was thatnNo one, and that was no one, tried to enter the Emperor's chambers unless he'd made a personal appearance outside of them at some point during the day - for this very reason - but as far as he could remember (which was often a variable) Larsa had done no such thing.
"La…Your…uh…hello?" A woman's voice penetrated the door and angered the master of torture in Larsa's skull, although he still had the lucidity to wonder who in Arcadia says 'hello' after knocking on someone's closed bedroom door, let alone that of an Emperor.
He could've ordered the foolish servant away, but that would require speaking and Larsa was almost one hundred percent sure that the beast of burden would not appreciate such an endeavor. So he remained silent and the door opened after a while, and then what sounded like a young woman strolled casually into his room, as if it were an everyday occurrence or she was merely visiting a museum: 'here we have the Emperor of Arcadia, notice how he is in extreme pain and looks distinctly wan. Please do not try to feed the exhibits, as they are known to bite when angered.'
From what he could judge by his oversensitive but simultaneously agonizing hearing, Larsa guessed that this woman had brought food, as he heard her setting a plate of some sort down on a table…but of all the things he needed at that moment in time, nourishment was not high on the list.
"Seems the staff down there don't think you need to eat, Larsa," Penelo announced poignantly, staring into the back of Larsa's head (she only hoped) as he lay face down in a ridiculously big bed, hoping that just using his name and her voice would jog his memory.
Larsa groaned resentfully and managed to murmur, "Go away." Before burying his face in a pillow once again. Penelo had to admit she was half-expecting something like this - he not only appeared to be a heartless snob but also a lazy bum too.
"That's not a very nice way to greet me, is it Larsa" she taunted in a lowered voice still; feeling rather proud of herself for managing to get herself all this way without help from anyone, least of all Vaan - who ever said she was useless without him? (it was herself as a matter of fact, but that was not the point.)
One of the most amusing things Penelo found about the Emperor, was that without his guards, fancy outfits or heavily groomed exterior, Larsa was just Larsa: the snot-nosed kid she knew when he still thought lime-green was an awesome colour for your shoes.
"Just…go away…I'm not entertaining… at the moment…" said boy groaned while wheels in his fractured mind span uselessly, whirling and twirling frantically about something, but whatit was he couldn't fathom, nor did he care about.
"I'm just bringing you some break…well, more of a lunch really," Penelo replied while pacing around the room thoughtfully, although she kept clear of the door in case the guards heard her talking to 'Their Lord' like this.
Although they'd been pretty easy to get by once she'd turned up with food and insistences of the Emperor's 'total famishment', but if they smelled a rat she'd be upside down in shackles before she could say 'Solidor'.
"I can't." Was all Larsa had to say as he rolled over and for the first time Penelo thought he might be more than lazy, seeing as his face was all contorted and he was literally as white as a sheet.
"Oh… Larsa? Are you okay?" she gushed, he did not look good –maybe he got sick somehow: there was always Sochen fever…or the Arcades flu, or that Seeqpox that was going around…
But as was his usual way when questioned on that matter, Larsa scowled and managed to groan, "Yes, I'm fine!" Without realizing that it wasn't just anybody questioning him this time.
"You don't look fine," she retorted sharply, "do you have a fever? Look I'll go get some hel…"
"I am fine, just go away!!" Larsa Solidor cried in frustration, eyes stuck closed and deafened by the sound of his own voice, "please, Pen…" he added in a broken whisper, hardly aware of the shortened name his subconscious pulled out of the dark abyss commonly known as his memory.
Penelo however, broke out in an ear-to-ear grin and dashed up to the bedside in excitement.
"What did you say?" she demanded eagerly, hoping that she hadn't misheard him and Larsa had actually remembered…as it was about time too.
"I said leavemealone!"he chocked while curling up like a baby and burying his face in his hands, "…please." He begged once more, and Penelo suddenly realized she was probably doing more harm than good to Larsa at the moment, so unless she wanted to give him a stroke ought obey his wishes…getting him some help in the meanwhile.
She was also momentarily stunned by the utterance of a pleasantry from the noble's lips, he'd actually said 'please' to her (twice), which was a start if anything.
So upon realizing that for Larsa hate her the least, she should really be on her merry way. Penelo strolled out the door and consulted one of the guards about the Emperor's condition, who assured her that everyone was aware of his current aliment- 'he'd picked up a Rozzarian flu while in the country on business' - and that was all the attendant would say on the subject, much to her annoyance.
But satisfied that Larsa wasn't likely to die while she was away, Penelo skipped happily back to her work with a smile like sunshine: he'dremembered her!
This rather disappointed Sylvie and her porcine friend, who'd been hoping for the crushed victim of their Emperor's infamous morning moods and received naught but cheer.
And even Marcus managed to forgive the new girl for bunking so suddenly, as she returned with such a good disposition that whatever it was, it was worth it.
I swear I will not abandon this, it just might take a while, kk?
(I love this story too much to abandon it)
