paixaorpg | Foundation Day Festival: Food Tent

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Foundation Day Festival: Food Tent

Character(s): everyone in the food tent
Content: food, and lots of it.
Setting: Joco da Crianca Fairgrounds, food tent
Time: all day~
Warnings: Multithreaded posting format (please include time of day and sub-location in your comment's subject line)

The food tent is the second biggest structure at the fair, next to the Ferris wheel. It's a large white tent set up near the far end of the grounds. Inside, the majority of the tent is filled with long tables (with white plastic tablecloths) and benches for seating.

The food, along one side of the tent, is set up buffet-style. They have a wide variety of hot and cold dishes, and it's all good stuff, having been catered by Café Ersesat. It's always well-stocked, too, somehow; if they run out of anything, it's replenished within a few minutes. There is also a small bar, where alcoholic drinks and cocktails are available upon request to anyone who looks old enough.

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Flonne couldn't remember a time when she'd covered ground at such a speed. The short sprint from the grounds to the tent felt like an eternity, as worry and abject fear are wont to extend time beyond its normal limits.

Unfortunately for Flonne, her worst expectations were not to be disappointed. She'd heard lightening and screams, and what she saw were panicking blond people and - oh no she'd been too late - Laharl on the ground, hurt. "Laharl-san!" she cried, running towards him and dropping to her knees beside him. "Laharl-san, are you alright? Laharl-san!" Now was a terrible time to be without enough magic to cast a strong healing spell, which was the spot Flonne found herself in. He'd been hurt, and she couldn't help...

But this didn't just happen. Somebody hurt him. Somebody had done this to Laharl. Death and Timon were both angry at that blonde woman...she seemed happy about something, and she had a knife...Laharl had mentioned a Larxene...that was it. That had to be it.

And with that, all of Flonne's emotions simply boiled over. She was tired and worried about Laharl and frustrated and scared and she just didn't know what to do anymore and she hated it! Rightly or wrongly, all that emotional turmoil came out directed at the woman with the knife. "Stop it!" she screamed, leaping to her feet and calling her own staff to her hand almost by frustrated accident. "Stop hurting Laharl-san! Why can't you just leave us alone?"

Larxene dodged Timon easily enough, once he had lunged for her. And as soon as he landed on the floor, she kicked him aside, hard. Honestly, did he never learn? Just fell right into an obvious trap. Death, on the other hand, Larxene couldn't treat as flippantly.

She took a step back, almost turning to leave, but Flonne's arrival snapped Larxene's attention back to where it needed to be. She smirked and giggled. Oh, how clever, Death! And to think she almost hadn't even noticed it! She turned to Flonne, and her lightning ricocheted towards the blond.

This time growing in power. Unlike Laharl, Larxene had never felt better, and shocking Flonne was like mere child's play. The kunai twisted in her hand, and she looked at them all, as if daring them to argue with her as she stepped closer to Flonne. "Oh, dear. You thought that hurt~?" She asked sweetly.

Timon had forgotten of the outcome of his actions, something many would consider normal. Though, there was one: the satisfaction of teaching Larxene to never lay a hand, never mind strike, his friend down again. However, the chances of that happening lacked greater than the meerkats height.

It wasn't until he found Deaths bony hand before him he realized just what he was doing, snapping out of state a anger that had taken him over. He found himself caught helpless in the air, wishing he had come forth sooner as he watched the blonde's foot race toward him. A sharp yelp escaped the rodent as he was sent flying back, his small, frail body similar to an old rag dolls when coming in contact with one of the table legs. It twisted around the table limb, then fell to the ground in a tangled pile.

A groan was given as Timon wrapped his arms around his stomach, slowly curling up while watching the fight continue on. Things appeared to only be getting worse, what with Flonne appearing. He would hate to see harm fall upon the girl, and with the way things were going, there was the chance that he would have to.

He prayed for Death to act, make up for the lack of help he could be himself to his newly acquainted friends in their time of need. "Do something!" he croaked, hoping to get the bag of bones to... Well, do something!

This was not supposed to happen. While Death's power of compulsion evidently did work, it didn't seem to last for very long. Using it again to get rid of Larxene wouldn't work - she was expecting it now.

He saw the lightening spark and hit Flonne with dismay that quickly turned to anger. This would not happen. Not in front of him.

Timon's plea was unneeded, as Death was already moving to attack. Swiftly reversing his grip on his scythe, he swung the butt hard at Larxene. There was no way he could use the blade right now: in such a crowded place, he may inadvertantly kill somebody were the blade to be employed.

He cringed in pain, but was distracted when he heard a familiar voice ring out, "F-Flonne...?"

Then she was beside him, asking if he was alright. He nodded slowly, "Y...yeah I..." but didn't get any further, before his vassal was jumping away from him. What the? No!

"W-wait... Flonne!" he called out to her, as she moved away from him towards Larxene. Oh hell, no! Move... MOVE... he tried to command himself, as he tried to get to his feet, and get his shocked body to listen.

The familiar sound of a cracking spark, made him snap his head out as he saw it hit Flonne. "NO!" He needed to move, and he needed to now.

Everything was happening so fast! He just had to get to his feet... to Flonne. Slowly he found he was beginning to move, but he feared he'd be too late, as Larxene was approaching her.

Flonne's eyes widened in sudden shock at the lightening suddenly coming towards her, and she jumped backwards.

Not fast enough, unfortunately.

The tail end of the thunderbolt hit her, and that was enough for the full voltage of the attack to slam through her body. Her world went white.

She didn't realize she was on the ground until she opened her eyes several seconds - was that all it had been? - later. She didn't realize she was still in pain until she noticed, almost detachedly, that every nerve ending felt as though it were aflame. Any more and she'd white out again. She didn't realize she'd been screaming until the rawness of her own throat registered and her own cries echoed back into her ears.

She was hurt. She couldn't think straight enough to do anything about it, never mind her lack of magic.

And now Larxene was coming her way, and she was in too much shock and pain to even move.

Larxene lifted the girl by her arm as soon as she reached her, the kunai twirling in her hand with careless grace and ease. Larxene was far too familiar with her weapon of choice, and far too unconcerned with the actions of those around her.

When Death had attempted to her her, she dodged with uncanny ease, a testament to just how fast she truly was. None of them stood a chance against her at the moment. Especially not Laharl, for all his haughtiness before their first encounter.

She looked down at Flonne, and stopped twirling her kunai. "Oh, but aren't you adorable~!" she said sweetly. "And loud." The last part said in a not so sweet voice, as blade met the flesh of Flonne's arm. "But I like loud," she said, glancing at Laharl out of the corner of her eyes.

She drew the blade down slowly, ignoring the red stain of blood on her hands.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" he ordered himself, pinching his cheek, an arm still wrapped around his stomach. Regardless how many times he attempted to escape the horrid reality he was trapped in, it never worked. What he was witnessing was really happening, even if he tried to deny it.

Laharl was hurt, now practically being tortured by watching Flonne face such horrid treatment. And Larxene, she was there, responsible for all this. Death, despite his efforts didn't appear to have as much control of the situation as hoped. As for himself... He was utterly useless.

Pulling himself unsteadily to his feet, he knew there was nothing he could do. He had only been kicked, nothing compared to the others. Yet it was enough to greatly injure him, due to his small size. His arms wrapped themselves tighter around his thin frame as he watched.

He'd of loved to jump in. Even now, the image of running in and bitting Larxene was worth a million grubs. He had it all planned out: he would run in, distract the organization member leaving an open spot for Death to strike. He would knock her out and the day would be saved.

Of course, as great of a plan that was to Timon, the success rate was low. He was better off sticking to his original plan: running away. It was shameful and selfish to simply leave his friends, but it felt like the only solution other than to stand there and watch them fall one by one.

Larxene still none the less frightened him, even if his other plan of action could happen, he was to cowardly to attempt anything except run away.

What was this? Had Death not just sworn that this sort of thing would not happen in front of him? And yet, somehow, it was...

No. No, no, NO.

He covered the ground between himself and Larxene in two quick, furious strides, once again swinging the blunt end of the scythe. He could definitely not afford to use the blade now, not with Flonne so close.

But Larxene was fast, he now knew. Almost too fast. Even as he swing the first time, he prepared for a dodge and a second strike. He was determined she would not get away this time.

Timon was right, it was practically torture to hear Flonne's pain filled cries. They stabbed somewhere deep inside him and it hurt. She was in pain! And here he was struggling just to get to his feet!

Even worse when he paused a moment in almost horror as Larxene grabbed her and cut into Flonne's arm. Just... like she'd done to him.

Laharl's gaze met Larxene's for the briefest second. She was doing this on purpose, wasn't she? It wasn't about Flonne, she was doing it all just to get at him! Just to torture him more! And Flonne... Flonne had been dragged in. Damnit, he never should have come to the fair. He should have stayed at the hotel and made Flonne stay with him, but... would they have been safe even there?

He didn't think on it more as Flonne's screams snapped him from his momentary daze. MOVE! He shouted at himself and finally he'd found the energy to rise fully and dash forward.

"STOP! STOP, DAMNIT!" Laharl yelled, in anger and desperation gathering what power he could muster ready to make an attempt at an attack himself. He had to get Flonne away from her!

Flonne had barely managed to get her head back on straight before Larxene grabbed her. She was still having trouble thinking straight, but she knew this was not where she wanted to be. "Let me-"

Her words cut off with a cry of pain as the knife plunged into her arm. "Loud" had been a correct assessment, and her screams rang through the tent as the blade dragged through her flesh. She had to get away - she had to!

But what little magic she had wouldn't come, wouldn't form into a coherent spell without concentration; with the aftereffects of electric shock playing through her body and a blade in her arm, concentration was something Flonne simply didn't have. Trying to pull away, struggling against Larxene, only made the wound that much worse.

But still she tried to get away, still screaming, tears of pain running down her face.

((...Raina dropped Larxene. D: So... yeah. I figured might as well try NPCing her so we can finish this. Let me (lol it's Jen as you might've guessed) know if there's any probs with this.))

She finished the cut down Flonne's arm, jagged and deep from the girl's struggles. Pulling the knife away, the savage nymph couldn't help but giggle as she hoisted the girl a little higher by her arm, bringing Flonne's back against her. The knife vanished as she brushed her fingers under Flonne's chin, before cruelly forcing her chin up with a jerk so she could get a look at Flonne's crying face. "Awww~ Did that hurt~?"

She couldn't wait for a response as Death was suddenly charging at her with his scythe. Still keeping a grasp on Flonne, she dodged Death's first attack, then hopped to the side to avoid the second swing.

Larxene heard Laharl cry out, alerting her that he was coming towards her. Oh, he'd finally managed to get on his feet? And he was trying to attack her no less!

"You want her that much, hmm~? Fine! Here you go~!" she crooned, as she suddenly released Flonne and gave her a hard shove towards the incoming demon.

Having created quite a bit of chaos, much to her pleasure, Larxene realized perhaps it was time she departed before any more arrived on the scene. She'd had her fun at any rate. "Well, as much fun as this has been, I'd really like to see the rest of the festival, so, do take care~," she said as she backed up and the dark blooms of a portal swirling up around her.

Mere instants after the tendrils of darkness receded and Larxene's portal ceased to be, Etna crashed down from the sky onto the spot where the nobody had just stood with a thunderous crack as her spear drove into the thick stone of the Paixao ground, crumbling it under a torrent of pent up rage and revenge.

Halfway through her fall Etna already knew that she had missed her chance, but she struck down with all the force she had anyways. Even after hitting ground, even after piercing through the solid surface of the fairgrounds, the demon still pushed down on her spear, edging it further into the dirt as if to ingrain the concept of cutting downwards into her mind.

"Dammit!" ,She screamed, fuming for a moment, stopping her imperishable breathing only to curse again.

needless to say she was pissed off, but not at the woman who had been torturing her friends or not at the agenda that had trapped her here, but at herself for failing to be present and qualified for the task she had sent out to do so ardently just days before.

After causing such a scene, it was typical of Larxene to run off. She always appeared to, leaving her victims in a state of wishing she had finished them off. Anger, fear, pain... She always got away and always appeared again where you least wanted her to. Timon had never encountered such a heartless monster as her. Compared to the Nobody, the hyenas were were only after his lunch money.

Having listened to the screams of those he knew, force himself to pry his sight away from their agony, the entire situation itself... It was a large leap from what he'd been used to seeing, even coming from a meerkat colony; a twenty four seven open buffet. The jungle scene had been so relaxing, peaceful. There was no such violence, cries echoing throughout the trees. At least, not that he wanted to remember.

The meerkat felt so awfully out of place, he was a terrified child. Being surrounded by such terrible things, thinking back to the night in the alley when it was him receiving such treatment from the organization member... Blocking out all the bad things was difficult. He never liked talking about such topics (or thinking of them), avoiding it when he could.

But before he could deny the entire meeting, run from cloud of uncharacteristic feelings and thoughts hanging over him, he wanted to at least see that everyone was okay, especially Flonne. He watched, brave enough without Larxene's presence now to stay long enough to see the girl received proper medical attention. Though he was positive Laharl, Death, and Etna would bring her immediately.

Death didn't have emotions. It was simple as that, really. He simply didn't come equipped with them, and nothing was going to change that.

It should have stopped him from forming attachments.

It didn't.

Being unable to hit Larxene and watching Flonne be hurt by her...helplessness was what it was. He'd not experienced it before. He'd never gone into a situation where he'd not held at least one of the cards. It was new to him, and it was not something he appreciated.

Unable to express it through anger he did not have, that helplessness found a new outlet: a cold, steely determination. He would see this Organization taken down. He would orchestrate it himself if possible.

But for now, there were more pressing matters at hand. He glanced towards Timon, making sure he was alright, before putting his scythe away and moving towards the tangle that was Laharl and Flonne, offering his hand to help them rise. WE SHOULD FIND MEDICAL ATTENTION, he stated the obvious, AND FAST. I BELIEVE THERE IS A TENT AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE FESTIVAL THAT WILL PROVIDE SUCH SHOULD WE ASK.

Laharl's eyes only had a brief moment to widen before he had Flonne colliding into him and he found himself toppling backwards from the force. Automatically his arms found their way around her, one around her waist and the other over her shoulder and bent up over the crown of her head protectively as he fell hard onto his back with a grunt.

It took a moment to register what had happened. He heard... Etna? And saw out of the corner of his eye the dark trails of Larxene's portal vanish. Damnit, she got away. Oh well, whatever, there were more important things. Like dealing with the weeping fallen angel, laying on top of him.

He could feel her tears on his neck as he held her, and he continued to lay there for several long moments simply doing so as he finally had a moment to let out a sigh of relief. She was safe now. Hurt, but safe. No thanks to him, however.... Well, first things first, he had to get them off the ground.

Normally he would have blushed, spluttered and more likely than not have simply spazzed at being in such a position, however her pain filled cries subdued any such inclinations. Slowly Laharl began to move his hand from her head and pushed back her hair. "Flonne?" he mumbled softly after a moment, but didn't wait for a reply, "I'm moving now.... okay?"

Glancing up at Death's offered hand, he shook his head, waving it off, as he could manage fine himself. Shifting his grasp around her, he carefully eased her partially to the ground as he rolled to his side then moved onto his knees, but still held her head and shoulders up against him. Reaching for his cloak, he quickly pulled it off and wrapped it around her. That done, he slid his other arm beneath her knees and scooped her up like she weighed nothing, rising to his feet quite easily from there.

"No way," Laharl replied Death's suggestion with vehemence, "I trust them as much as I trust Larxene. I just want to get the hell out of here." He felt pretty sure Etna or he could bandage up her arm just as easily as they could, and it would be easier to clean up in a bathroom anyways. No, there was no way they were sticking around. He just wanted to get her far away from here.

Edited 2007-12-17 00:05 (UTC)

Flonne let out a sharp cry as she collided with Laharl, her injured arm caught between her chest and his. Dazed, she lay where she was - namely, on top of Laharl - sobbing and crying from the pain that had nearly blinded her.

She didn't hear Laharl's words and barely felt the cloak being wrapped around her, but she could move enough to wrap her good arm around Laharl's shoulders as he lifted her, and she clung tightly to him, sobbing loudly and completely unwilling to let go anytime soon.

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Foundation Day Festival: Food Tent

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