nyxus: (are you insane like me)
Nyx Ulric ([personal profile] nyxus) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log2017-05-20 12:15 pm

burger flippiiiiin

Who: Nyx & Anybody
When: Morning and Evening, end of May
Where: Pax Hamburgana
What: Working hard, or hardly working? Stop by for service with a smile! :D
Warnings: G. I will switch to brackets if you prefer that!


e a r l y.

The diner didn't serve breakfast, though understandably there still had to be someone there relatively early. Prep work needed to be done: goodies baked, beans boiled, dough kneaded, pickles sliced, and so on. Nyx wasn't really a morning person but he didn't mind taking the early shifts. One benefit was that he could play music as loud as he wanted to and sing along while he worked without worrying about anyone interrupting his (non-existent) musical talents.

This morning in particular a song with a heavy beat and danceable melody came on, which had Nyx not only singing along but dancing back and forth around the kitchen as he put together the ingredients for the Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. Personally he hated the taste of the pie, but it sure did smell wonderful baking. He was in a good mood, and entirely unaware that he hadn't locked up the diner after himself, nor did he hear any sounds of anyone coming in.

l a t e.

Nights like this reminded him of the bar he and Libertus ran back home. It was dark outside, there were only a few stragglers left eating or drinking, and the mood was super mellow. He was tired; it had been a long day. It had been a profitable day though and Nyx was pretty sure that Kaz Grumpyface Miller might even be pleased with the ledger. No new customers had come in during the past half hour and he began his nightly cleaning ritual.

Nyx might have not had the most spotless apartment but when it came to his job, he was meticulous. He loved the idea of every piece of cooking equipment from the stove to the spatula being shiny and glittering clean. There was something therapeutic about it. Or, maybe, he told himself that because going home alone to an empty apartment really sucked after awhile. Whatever the reason, Nyx was not afraid to use all the elbow grease he had to make sure the stove had not even a micro-atom of grease anywhere on it.
handofrapture: ([unmasked] well this is rare)

[personal profile] handofrapture 2017-05-25 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
The man seems neither impressed nor alarmed by her switching the bowls. She’s a little disappointed, but at least it means the food is probably safe. She still doesn’t eat quite yet though, instead keeping a watchful eye on the man as he sits down beside her.

His chatter provides some distraction from her impatience to eat. She shakes her head at his question. She’s heard of a “Kazuhira Miller” on the network, but she’s never met him. She watches the man raise his spoon to his mouth, observing closely. It’s not until he swallows a spoonful and spends several seconds not dying terribly that she picks up her own spoon and pokes at the contents of her bowl with interest. Thin green clumps and soft white cubes float in the broth—neither are familiar to her. She spends a few seconds breaking one of the cubes up into pieces, before the smell finally convinces her to lift a spoonful to her mouth.

The flavor is rich and slightly salty. She waits a few seconds and then tries another spoonful. And then another. After a few more spoonfuls, she looks up at the man and, after a moment of hesitation, gives him a nod. It’s thanks and wariness and also agreement; this is the best and only soup she’s ever had.
handofrapture: ([unmasked] watching you)

[personal profile] handofrapture 2017-05-29 12:37 am (UTC)(link)
[The man seems pleased at the nod—almost suspiciously so, but the food doesn’t make her feel pained or dazed, so she keeps eating, telling herself she’ll kill the man if she feels the first sign of something off. But she never does.

She eats quickly, so she’s almost done by the time the man asks his questions. She shakes her head again in response—to both questions. She makes a habit of drifting from region to region, often staying for days at a time, but right now, her home is in Region 4. As for her name… She raises one long, thin finger to her mouth in a gesture of silence. Even if she had one, she couldn’t tell him.]

handofrapture: ([unmasked] glaring up)

[personal profile] handofrapture 2017-06-03 06:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[The question gets a defensive squaring of her shoulders and another shake of her head. No, she can’t read or write either. It had never been necessary for her to learn—until she came here, where people inexplicably expect her to have something to say.

She turns her attention somewhat sullenly back to her food, finishing off the last of her soup. She had briefly possessed the power to communicate some weeks earlier, when she could make her own thoughts heard in the minds of others just like she could with her own Sisters, but that time has passed. No longer having that ability to make herself understood leaves her feeling handicapped in a way she isn’t accustomed to.

After a moment, she looks back at the man and, hesitantly, raises her hand as if she’s holding a pencil, before moving it in a sketching motion. It's a counter-offer, to his suggestion of writing.

She can’t write—but she can draw.]

handofrapture: ([unmasked] really?)

[personal profile] handofrapture 2017-06-08 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[The Big Sister watches him as he stands up from his seat. She’s not quite as tense as before, but still vigilant as he produces something from behind the counter. A pen and paper. Just like in the hospital with that woman before.

She takes the items as she listens to the man’s suggestion. It comes as a surprise and not one she’s sure how to respond to. Reading and writing are not skills she will need when she returns to Rapture. And yet, they would be undeniably useful here.

She doesn’t do anything with the notepad and pen yet. Instead, she points to the cash register on the counter and tilts her head in question. Will she need to pay him for teaching her?]