Miguel's Grand Tour
Morning had arrived, which meant the daily routine had to begin soon.
Many would be going for a coffee pot at this hour to get a caffeine fix. Raven was not one of the many. She understood how to manage her sleep cycle and what she needed to do to optimize her time sleeping. Part of her morning ritual involved a change of wardrobe followed by a short session of meditation.
This was more for preventative care. When you knew you were going to be dealing with morons and other irritants, finding inner peace went a long way with not killing them. Early morning was not a good time for loud noises, of which certain individuals here were guilty of making.
Once calm was found, she completed the finishing touches, such as selecting some reading material. Today, she felt like staying out of her room, and so finding a quiet place, like in the Tower's library, was in order. Why was she bringing her own books to a large collection of them? Have you seen what was put in there? Someone didn't have literary tastes. It was a combination of high school level materials combined with what was most trendy in young adult fiction. In conclusion, trash combined with dated and over used subject matter.
Once her door was locked behind her, a tome held under one arm, the pale-skinned girl began making her way to the rec room with its kitchenette. While there were actual kitchen facilities in here, the intention for it was service for a substantial population of which this tower currently lacked. For the time being, it would serve as part of the proverbial tour, so to speak.
For everything else, the kitchenette.
It was quiet out in the hallways, like it normally was. Typically, Raven tended to be one of the early risers. The normal walk to the red room was done in silence, as if usually was. Just her and her solitude, waiting until everyone else roused themselves from slumber and began making their usual noises, whatever those might turn out to be.
It was a straightforward journey. Go straight, then make a left at the intersecting hallway and head for the elevator. Go up a few floors, then exit to the right. That was how it went for her.
At least, that was the intention. Her routine went as it should right up until she reached the intersecting hallway. Her left was what she intended to turn to, but from the corner of her right eye she detected movement. Looking to her right, she found further down a moving figure, one with blonde hair.
Her eyes narrowed. By process of elimination, she could conclude that was Terra. Cassie was not here, so that left the geokinetic as the only other blonde. The girl's movements were slow, yet propelled her. This was the second time she knew of where she had seen the blonde teen walking about.
Experimentally, Raven allowed the barriers that protected her mind from all other sources of psychic traffic to lower so as to pick up any clues to Terra's motive for being up so early. She was used to the other girl waking up later in the morning, much like Victor and Kori. Always up before Garfiled and Bart, that was Terra's place in the lineup.
The pale skin of her forehead furrowed. Nothing. She was picking up nothing. This was the second time she had picked up such an absence, and like the first time it had involved Terra. Whatever could this mean?
Raven took a right this morning, breaking out of her normal routine to follow the geokinetic.
Footsteps were kept soft, quiet, and so not to give away her presence. Simultaneously, she closed the distance between herself and the slow-moving blonde, yet did not close it fully. She continued to probe, search for any sign of emotion. Still, nothing but the same empty void.
Observing, she watched and watched, waiting to see what this early morning wandering was suppose to accomplish. The longer she did, the more she saw that Terra wasn't walking in a straight line. The blonde's forward approached weaved more, going left and right, left and right, and it didn't take long to figure out that each zig ended at a door and each zag began at that point.
Not all the doors opened. Most remained closed. There wasn't much on the floor unless you wanted to call them the doors. Primarily bedrooms with bathroom attachments took up the majority of space. They would be kept locked until tenants were found and assigned a room. Then it was a matter of programming the electronic locks for that individual. Of course, not all rooms were digitally secured.
Some had door handles, and those lead to closets, ones filled with all sorts of cleaning supplies. What, thought spare toilet paper were kept in the bathroom attachments? Hmm, actually, that wasn't quite a bad idea. No one ever truly kept close attention to that detail until it was too late-ahem. That was a distraction, and not one that would lead her to answers.
What was the purpose of this? Terra had been living in this tower with an assigned room and everything for the better part of a year. The early stage wandering that was done to get a feel of this environment would have been done in the first weeks. Key locations and where they could be found would be known by heart at this point. There could only be one explanation for this kind of wandering at this stage, and it was that Terra was looking for something.
But what could she possibly find in empty but furnished bedrooms?
For several hallways she followed, continuing to watch and to puzzle. This behavior was not normal. Even for a mentally damaged and recovering teenaged girl with the power to literally move the earth, this was not normal. The more she watched, the more details she began to spot.
What had seemed like smooth movements had a jerkiness to them. Such jerks were quick, and so were easy to miss at face value. She could feel a small frown blossom on her face, but it didn't take much to smooth out the wrinkles and become rock solid again.
Eventually, the empathic girl grew tired of the observation. While she had patience, as Garfield and Bart had proven, it had limits. A case could be made for wait and see, but when everything was the same action with no variation, where was the point in waiting? To hope there would be change? What if there was no change?
She ended following and began her approach, closing the distance between herself and the geokinetic. Projecting her voice, "What are you doing?"
Terra's movements slowed, and she came to a stop. The blonde's back continued to face Raven, who started a new round of waiting but under different circumstances. Curiously, Terra's posture wobbled and then a hand went up to the head. There was grumbling and mumbling, and a scan surprisingly updated with identified emotions. There was exhaustion, confusion, and a little concern. Alertness followed, and then physical followed the emotional as awareness finally took hold.
Terra turned around, and Raven hid back some surprise when she noted how utterly tired the blonde looked. Those were some serious bags under the eyes, and there was some grit along the eyelids. The eyes had some redness to them which fed into the sight of exhaustion.
"Raven? What…? What are you doing here?" A yawn followed that last question.
"I could ask the same myself," Raven replied back.
There was a frown, and Terra began looking around. "When did I get here?"
No memory? She felt some skepticism but kept that to herself. "You walked," she stated bluntly.
"Walked? When? Why am I not in bed? That's the last thing I remember…this isn't a prank, right?"
How the questions came out and how they seemed to change from one topic to another could have been suspect had Raven not been paying attention to the ever-changing emotions that Terra was radiating at this point. There was genuine confusion there. Then suspicion that seemed to be directed…actually, Raven didn't need to guess where the suspicion was directed towards.
Teenaged boys and their "pranks."
"It would have to be the most elaborate on those idiots could come up with. The fact none of them have popped up yet leads me to believe they aren't involved," the pale-skinned girl explained. "They like to be close by when their 'pranks' go off and we would have heard their laughter because they can't stay quiet long enough to hide their presence."
The blonde frowned but slowly nodded. "I…I guess I must have a sleepwalking problem then. Maybe I should get it looked at?"
Maybe sounded like a good idea, but Raven wasn't buying it. However, the feelings she was detecting contradicted any kind of deception that could be at play here. So neutrally, "Maybe you should."
Terra gave a slow, uncomfortable nod. "Yeah… Thanks."
Seconds ticked by, and then Terra made the first move to walk around the hood and cloak wearing teen. Raven's eyes followed, and still she detected nothing that should put her on alert. There was some honesty here even though she felt there shouldn't be.
There was another spike on confusion, and the follow muttered that asked where she was added to the evidence pile that only the truth had been spoken here.
If the truth was what was spoken, then what accounted for the previous actions? Why would Terra be wandering the hallways and checking doorways to people-empty rooms? What was the point in that?
It seemed she had found a new mystery, and like all the others she would be getting to the bottom of it.
"You failed in your mission."
Immortus wanted to say he was surprised. He wasn't. What could you possibly expect from such an inferior specimen of a soldier? He did not express his thoughts because this was a debriefing, and one being done over a secure line. Any expression of emotion was a weakness, and anger was only to be indulge in when the level of incompetence was excessive.
The self-name Ravager scowled at the general through the monitor. This hired muscle was still in the vicinity of Jump City and so communication was through a H.I.V.E. communicator. "You weren't there. I had them on the ropes!"
"Ropes or not, they are still alive and so your objective is still a failure," Immortus replied swiftly. "My tolerance for failure is at a low, Ravager. H.I.V.E. has poured many resources into your training and augmentation, and we expect to see a return on our investment. You've had the best train you, and you had up to date video footage of their current skills to study at your disposal."
"None of them had some weirdo who could make walls out of solid air in them. Where the hell in all that footage you got was there someone like that? If anyone failed here, it was you! I can't be blamed because you messed up!"
The uniformed general was unable to stop the twitching of his right eye. Passing on the blame? Pathetic. This boy was too overconfident for his own good.
"It didn't matter. With your training, you should be up to the task of handling the unexpected. Even the greatest tacticians throughout history would be able to tell you that even the best laid of plans fall apart when confronted with the enemy. You adapt or you die." Excuses were not acceptable here and he would not tolerate any of it.
"You sound like my damn father already. Shut up and let me handle this. Those Titans won't get lucky a second time around."
"What makes you think you're getting a second chance?" the general asked idly.
The snort came first, dismissing the much older man. "Like you said, you spent a lot of time getting me ready. Why would you put it to waste? I'll be ready this next time and not even purple walls will stop me. Keep out of my way, and you'll see. I'll show you what I can really do."
More boasting. This was a flaw of the young and one that could never be stamped out. Dismissively, Immortus ordered, "Remain on standby. I will return to you once I have addressed other matters."
A technician, wise to the cue, replaced the image of the infuriated Ravager with one of Jinx. Compared to the previous operative, the leader of the disgraced HIVE Five was more composed.
"Report. The status of our captured agents?"
"All accounted for and in our custody." Jinx reported. "Ravager's arrival was the perfect distraction and we were able to complete our objectives."
At the very least there was some competency here. "Return our agents back to base for further debriefing and discipline. You'll be briefed on your next mission shortly. The same goes for Private Hive and his unit."
"Yes, sir." Brief and without any unnecessary flourishes like the nodding of a head. His orders would be relayed to the other agents. Jinx was starting to shape up again, better late than never. However, she had much ground to cover before any possibility of rewards and perks would be handed back down.
There was one other matter to be addressed, and the technician at his station was once again perceptive of the cue. The image of Jinx was now replaced by Psimon. There had been other objectives that had been planned for during the night. Every battle had multiple objectives and it took a true tactician to cover them all.
"Report. Were you able to complete your objective?"
"With no interference. I was able to obtain the requisite materials and the harder to find items. If the small minded peons of this city finish with their Titan obsession, they should be finding out about the thefts soon enough. Naturally, they'll be blamed for distracting law enforcement."
And hiding H.I.V.E.'s involvement as a result. At least there was one agent who could perform beyond expectations. "Return to base immediately. Everything must be put into place immediately to ensure the next steps of our mission. Do not delay."
"Of course," Psimon answered. "By the way, we may have another opportunity to cover our tracks, and the newest recruit may be the best suited to take advantage of it."
When in the field, all operatives were encouraged to be creative so long as it did not draw unnecessary attention. Keeping off the radars of multiple governments and the reach of organizations like the Justice League were paramount. That Psimon was exercising this creativity now when caution was most needed brought forth curiosity and irritation.
However, as a General, Immortus needed to hear out those who had a better lay of the land. He was not on the front lines as much as he would have preferred to be, but his skills and tactics were too important to risk. Judgment could be ruled after he heard Psimon out.
"Proceed."
Psimon obeyed the order, and as Immortus listened, he had to be honest and admit that this was inspired. If anything, one could say fate itself was aiding their cause. He wasn't one for fate, but he did admire the poetry involved.
Distracting. Irresistible. Deceptive. Even if it resulted in failure, the fallout would delay any and all response that those children could muster. This was inspired. Opportunistic. In a word, creative.
"Your proposal will be considered. Fulfill your current orders and return to base."
The image of Psimon vanished from the screen. This left Immortus to consider further, weighing all the current intel and the options available to use it. The more he thought about it, the more promising this idea, this plan was. There were benefits to it. However, it would be remiss of him to ignore the flaws.
This would be further antagonism that served little purpose in advancing their plans. The ambush in the Highland Mall and the strike against the Jump City Police Department had solid reasons and were absolutely necessary. You could not have the second strike without the first ambush. Second, the agent who would be responsible for carrying it out had only recently shown shortcomings. The possibility of failure was great.
But what would the failure accomplish? Would it expose H.I.V.E.? Did that fool have a big enough mouth and no control over it that he wouldn't boast or brag? No, that was a fragile ego he was working with. The Titans had so far proven themselves worthy adversaries and anyone with a high opinion of themselves wouldn't think to share credit, now would they?
Immortus continued to muse, but ultimately he made a choice. To the technician, "Ravager's channel." Quickly, the image of the newly-trained assassin appeared on the monitor, scowling and impatient.
"Finally getting back to me? About time. What do you want me to do?"
This Ravager wanted to be treated with respect, but why respect a petulant child? The general had no time for such disrespect, but he would remain professional.
"You're in luck. There may be an opportunity for a man such as yourself to exploit," Immortus stated. "You will need to remain on standby until the opportunity presents itself, but once it does, you have the bait you need to lure the Titans to you. Once you have accomplished that, you will kill them with extreme prejudice. Are you up to the task?"
From a scowl did emerge a smirk. There was the cockiness only the youth enjoyed.
"Where do I need to go?"
This place was as far away from home as Miguel could imagine. He had to stop whistling a long time ago because his lips were starting to get sore. Everything around him was amazing! Incredible! It was like walking through a dream come true!
This Tower was huge and it had such great views, both from the roof and from any and all windows available. There were quite a bit of windows. You'd think someone decided that windows were the thing this place needed above all else. And let's not get started on the decor. Well, maybe let's get started on the decor.
He had a sense of fashion. The colors could use some working with. The reds and grays were such a dull choice. Any other combinations would have done better.
For everything else, it was like stepping into a new world. There was some style that he appreciated and there was that modern look of architecture all about. There was a lot of it on the ground floor and the ceilings were so high he had to crane his head back to look. The lighting down here was also so much better than those long hallways. Maybe that's why the red and gray didn't work out too well since it made those areas darker.
Ah, and now he understood why there were so many windows. Natural light really did make a difference. Just this lobby… Did you hear that? No? Well, that was the sound of him whistling and doing it as long as these walls were tall. He didn't have much-or-any experience in such a place, but it all looked fine.
"Yeah, that's what a lot of people say," an out-of-costume Kid Flash said, not looking the least impressed.
"Why shouldn't they?" Miguel asked, looking at the speedster.
Kid Flash looked thoughtful. "That's…not a bad question."
Miguel found himself raising an eyebrow. Now that he was taking a closer look, he found that Kid Flash didn't seem impressed or anything, though that could be chalked up to living here all the time. When you find yourself surrounded by all this all the time, it had to fade into the background, right? Though, he had a feeling that wasn't quite right.
Sometimes when you begin ignoring all that is around you, you can find your attention called back to it and then you can begin admiring it again. He had done that all the time in El Chitar.
So, "You're not amazed? This is all impressive."
Kid Flash waved a hand dismissively. "I've seen a lot man. This is kinda tame."
"Tame? How can this be tame?" the Mexican national wondered.
"Eh, from the future. Lots of future stuff. I've seen building bigger than anything here. Ran on them too. Plus, they have flying cars, but only in the rich places. Plus, everything is big…except for the parking spaces. I think they're bigger in this era."
Miguel blinked. Then he blinked again. "I'm sorry, uh, did you say you're from the…future?"
"Yeah, went over this with the others-oh right, you' weren't there for that. At all. Like, by, what, months? A year? Something like that? Okay, so as the kids say in this era, TLDR, I, Kid Flash, am from the future!" The last three words were given an audible emphasis, as if to make it more dramatic. One arm made a sweeping motion, gesturing at the speedster's body and rising up into the air, the hand giving a bit of a flourish.
Well, what could you say to that? It was a bold statement to be sure, and so there was really only one thing that he could say to that. "Huh."
"I know, not every day you get to meet a time traveler and all, so this really must be your lucky day," Kid Flash continued, as he combed his fingers through brown locks of hair. Say, it was like he was acting like one of those anime characters that his sister secretly fawned over.
Miguel tilted his head to a side. "Are you hitting on me?"
Kid Flash's…um, odd colored eyes blinked. What shade were they? It looked yellow from a distance, but if he got closer, he was reminded of amber. Gold maybe? It was the oddest eye color he had ever seen. "I…haven't touched you yet. Or hit you. And why would I want to do that? You saved my man, Red's, life so you gotta a good guy. Unless you're a bad guy pretending to be a good guy, which has happened before, not fun, let me tell you. But if you are, then I might have to hit you and-oh, wait, wait, this is one of those past lingo, speech jargon things, right? You don't actually mean I'm hitting you…but uh, I might need a refresher on what hitting on means, and I need to know you're using it the right way."
Kid Flash could not stop babbling, could he? It was like being with a little kid who was trying to be older than he or she actually was only with a lot more vocabulary added to the mix. Well, there was only one real way that a fellow like himself could respond to this.
Giving a small smirk, he practically purred, "I wouldn't mind if you were."
The fast-moving Teen Titan frowned. "So it's a good thing? It has to be if you don't mind me doing it, um, hitting on…you, right? Well, if that's what I'm doing, then that's what I'm doing! What am I doing?"
Ah, still so clueless. For claiming to be from the future, there was so much missing from this boy's education. Miguel wasn't sure if he should be the teacher here and maybe it wasn't his place, but he also knew that there were times and places for this kind of thing.
Perhaps a change of topic.
"So what else does this place have? Gotta say, I'm liking a lot of its look, but I'd think a change or two here and there wouldn't hurt." His dark eyes cast back around to the interior of this building's lobby, the awe for it all still there.
Kid Flash tilted his head to the side, obviously missing or not understanding why the sudden change of topic, but the guy went along with it like a pro. "Well, you got a good look at all the stuff above ground so how about what's under it?"
There was stuff underground? Like a basement? This place was much bigger than he had thought! Readily he agreed, and the first place that he was escorted to was a garage. A mechanic's garage and not the civilian kind where you stuck all the stuff you didn't have space for in your home and sure, the car can take a little rain, it won't hurt it.
This was truly a place to actually do some work, and the first thing his eyes landing on was a thing of beauty. Oh yes, he had seen it the night before, but everything had been moving too quickly then. Now he could have an eyeful and couldn't look away from the beauty.
That was one sweet looking car. Who designed it? They had some taste! Gray and blue, now that worked in color coordination, especially with the different shades he was picking out. Oh, everything that was blue was transparent too, and that just made the aesthetic pop.
"Whoever made you is an artist. No ifs, ands, or buts," he praised the vehicle.
"Eh, Cyborg made it. Don't know why, but he has some hangup on cars. Kinda a waste of time if you ask me," his guide said.
"You, my friend, need to work on your taste," Miguel chastised, continuing to circle around Cyborg's car and get more angles out of it.
"Well, if Kori-I mean, Starfire's cooking hasn't burned off all my taste buds, I don't think I have a problem with taste," the speedster mused out loud.
"Not taste, taste," he explained. "To find beauty in the world and be able to recognize it for all its strengths, to see the flaws and know that such things only enhances the appeal, to see wonder and admire for both simplicity and complexity, that is taste. Look at how the light reflects off the surface. How the blues absorb the light. The contrast with the grays, and how they exude strength. The potential to roar into action and be the smoothest ride you've ever had. This is beauty in all its metal glory and power all at the slightest pressure from your foot. Raw, unyielding, and mighty. Beautiful too."
Maybe he used too many words, for Kid Flash shook his head. "I will never understand the twenty-first century and its obsession with cars."
Several moments passed, but for Miguel they went quickly. Perhaps for someone whom sped granted all the time in the world, it moved slow, but if only it could for him. That would mean more time to admire this work. A lot of time and care went into this. His attention was so captivated that he did not hear the doors sliding open and heavy footsteps approaching. He did hear the voice, though.
"Looks like I find two little mice in my workplace. What are you doing here, Kid Flash?" The Mexican national glanced away from the car and found Cyborg closing in.
"Just giving the grand tour," the speedster shrugged. "Kinda regret bringing him down here. He's like BB and Red and all gaga over your car."
"Really." Cyborg came to a stop next to the speedy Titan. "What's your interest in my baby, Miguel?"
Miguel let a smile loose. "Just admiring. It's a combination of sleekness, power, and aesthetics all rolled into one. Where did you find it?"
"Nowhere. Built it all right here," the large, metal teen bragged.
Both of his eyebrows were rising. "You built this?" A loud, appraising whistle followed. "You have talent, my friend. What kind of horsepower are we talking about here? The torque? What kind of fuel and how efficient is it? And what kind of acceleration can I expect?"
"And you are asking all the right questions." A large grin had formed on the human side of the cyborg's face. Unnoticed was Kid Flash's falling expression, one that indicated that he had just found himself in a place he did not want to be in. "I've worked and reworked so that my baby here is getting close to two hundred in about 5.8 seconds. Used to be one twenty in 2.1. I'm trying to see if I can't improve on that."
"Because if you're going to be the best, you have to be the fastest," Miguel agreed.
"Exactly!" Cyborg exclaimed, moving closer. "But if you think that's impressive, you haven't seen anything yet!"
From here he stood, face ashen, Kid Flash groaned, "I did this to myself, didn't I?"
On Okaara, it was considered a warming up exercise. It was a series of movements that had to be accomplished in a certain order and any mistakes meant starting the exercise all over. For example, not placing an arm into the proper positioning, skipping a step, or performing too quickly or too slowly meant going back to the first step and beginning anew.
Koriand'r had been administering this exercise for longer than the standard Earth hour. She had had to start the exercise from the beginning six times. This was highly unusual. Mistakes were normal when learning, but after years of doing it, a mistake could occur once every so often. By this point in her life as a warrior, six mistakes should not have occurred.
The Tamaranean knew where the problem originated. The recent fight with the metahumans at the law enforcement establishment had resulted in less than desirable consequences. Namely, it had been the appearance of the new killer with the sword. The Ravager as he named himself and was reported to her by Red Robin.
It was not the appearance of this Ravager that was breaking her concentration. It was…
She stopped and allowed herself to seat her posterior on a cushioned mat. Her body was weary from the constant exercise and the mental strain multiplied with the additional stress. She needed to calm down and reflect, think through the turmoil of her emotions and admit the truth to herself.
Koriand'r had been training for so long. She had done so with dedication, refusing to skip a day unless there was an emergency. She had kept it up for several Earth months all in the name of developing the skills and strength needed to defeat Blackfire. She had been measuring her progress with the Tower's training equipment, and so she did know that she was improving.
Her reflexes were faster, her aerial mobility was becoming sharper, the strength and brilliance of her Starbolts was increasing, and her focus…well, it was difficult to measure focus with the machines here. The Tamaranean felt she had been improving there too.
Six mistakes in the same warmup exercise proved that she still had much to grow in that area. Were there not other areas in which she still needed improvement?
Such doubts had been planted within her by the effective resistance provided by Ravager. This new opponent had successfully blocked or evaded her strikes at close range, and then he struck her with several blows that were accompanied by surprising strength. Hitting her in the intestinal region, causing disorientation with blows aimed at her ears, the attack to her face, and the kick that threw her away continued to play out in her mind, much like the television in the Tower's recreation room.
Earth was filled with individuals or great strength and impressive skill. This fact was not what disturbed her. Her expectations had long since established themselves to expect an individual who would be of great challenge.
It was…she had expected to be humbled as easily as she had, not after all the training she had put herself through. If she could not defeat this Ravager, then she would not defeat Blackfire. It was very disheartening.
Discouraging.
The distraught Tamaranean continued to watch the memories play in her mind, self-criticism pointing out the flaws in her technique, obvious to the sight of the hind, but absent when she had been in the present moment. She should have used her legs more. Used the heat of her Starbolt, empowered by a concentration of her life energy. Protected her head. Go limp and take the blow to her lower torso. Allowed gravity to place distance between herself and Ravager, use that time to recover, then counterstrike.
Curiosity there was a detail that the sight of the hind struggled to criticize her for. It was a small detail and after condemning herself mentally time and time again, she was noticing it. Had Ravager increased his speed? It was not abnormal for such an occurrence to happen; learning an opponent's body language would allow one to predict the next action and so a move to anticipate would create the illusion of speed.
The best opportunity would have been when she was grappling with him. Initially, all of her attacks had been evaded, her fists landing against the building she had Ravager restricted to. The initial blocks had been powered through, meaning her physical strength was greater than his. His speed increased and he stopped or prevented all blows from hitting. This was not making any sense. She wanted to conclude that she had given away the secrets of her body language, but she was too close physically, and his attention had been on her upper body. She had also been aerial, which under the right circumstances would have changed her body language as it compensated for lacking the grounding that came from land based combat.
Was this…was this an attempt to try and explain her defeat which would lessen the self-blame she directed towards herself? It felt that way. The only argument against was that this had been one encounter. The Warlords of Okaara would have been chastising her to never underestimate an enemy.
To regain confidence, she would need to surpass or defeat this Ravager. Of this, there was much certainty. His display of skill must be answered with a better display of hers. Koriand'r need to keep a calm mind, remain focused, do her best to overestimate Ravager's abilities, and-
A hollow roared groaned into the silence.
-and keep her body nutritionally fed. A warrior must tend to her bodily needs as well as to train the body.
Some would try to ignore the panging of hunger, seeing it as a test of some kind that would prove a favorable result. Koriand'r was not of the group of some, and once resolve was found, she stood up onto her feet and began walking out of the training room. Thoughts of Ravager and her worth as a warrior were buried under the considerations or what to sate her hunger with.
In the light of her doubts, the Tamaranean considered a meal of the grown of home variety. A Tamaranean dish to ease the perils of the inner spirit essence. But which Tamaranean dish exactly? She had found many that could fulfill her needs, some which required less preparation time and others which demanded much in the cooking phase.
She recalled that there was a new resident in the Tower, even though there was no confirmation of the permanence of that residence, and so she pondered on the dishes in which she could make large amounts of. Perhaps large enough that her friends could also partake.
Well, that narrowed it down to two or three, at least in this particular small unit of human time measurement. Oh, let her not forget about the ingredients! A survey of the refrigerating unit would confirm what she would be able to do.
This time her friends would be able to ingest her nutritional offering with the minimal of life-threatening injuries.
