01-14-2011, 08:54 PM
Not enough.
Hands wringing, Jarka surveyed the spread of confections. The past two
days had been spent toiling through the tiny kitchen in a struggle to produce. Toiling wasn’t the right word- that would imply that she hadn’t enjoyed it. Despite her aching back, hustling to provide the sugary snacks had been one of the most fulfilling challenges she had ever attempted.
But she had failed.
Of course, Hati and Skoll were of little help. In fairness, they had bustled through the kitchen as she barked orders – pleasantly barked. Now, however, they were perpetually trying to snatch up the few remaining treats before the intended consumers could devour them.
CRACK!
Luckily, Jarka was there to stop them. Her wooden spoon rapped the knuckles on Hati’s extended hand. Cradling his injury, he hissed menacingly. The cook shook her finger at him and mouthed the word “No.”
Hati considered the girl for a moment before reaching into his pocket. Out came a previously stashed cookie, which the boy promptly devoured with a victorious smirk.
The girl rolled her eyes. It had been a never ending battle since she had first uncovered the confections on that chilly morning. Armies of cupcakes helmeted in pastel dollops of frosting held the front line, flanked by a cavalry of crème puffs. To the east, a sea of fruity tart bars formed a tangy shoreline. Westward, mountains of cookies towered, their terrain nearly as diverse as they were numerous.
Initially, she had been concerned about the potential for leftovers, a peaceful end. Now, it seemed there would be no survivors.
Sigfried glanced at the dwindling desserts. “I think we’re going to need more cookies.”
Jarka turned her head to hide the wincing that contorted her features. Her face grew hot with embarrassment, with disgrace for her deficit. She knew his words weren’t an attempt to be cruel; that didn’t mean that the comment had lost its sting. Get a hold of yourself. To distract herself, she turned her eyes to the mob.
The crowd rumbled with excitement. The mass of bodies pressed forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the speaker as he emerged from backstage. Roy Munin, the smooth talker from Central City, approached the podium with a calm grace, like he was completely unaware of the multitude of faces with their eyes affixed to him. Like he was just getting ready to read a book by the fireplace.
He leaned into the microphone. The cacophony of the crowd diminished until not eve a whisper could be heard.
“We have gone on too long alone, people of Earth.” As the tawny haired man spoke, his eloquence surprised Jarka. Not one for current events, it was the first time the young girl had heard him truly spin his words for an audience. She felt herself become swept up by his message, yearning to take action, to fight. She may have been completely enraptured had it not been for the sudden appearance of Victoria by her side.
“This is...pretty amazing.” The newcomer’s eyes were widened, as though she couldn’t quite take in the entire sight of the crowd. Although it was difficult over the din of the speech, the two managed to hold a pleasant conversation.
The cook was surprised. Away from Roy, Victoria was rather enjoyable. In fact, it seemed as though the two could have much more in common than she had initially believed. Sigfried had been correct; there was more to Victoria than she and her cotton candy hair had let on to.
The girl spoke of hidden strength, and Jarka ached to reciprocate. The burden of her blossoming powers seemed too heavy to carry alone. Maybe Victoria would understand. Maybe… maybe she had abilities like hers. They could be confidantes in the formerly private struggle.
Jarka stepped towards Victoria and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Sometimes we need someone to talk to. I don't mind lending an ear.” Please. I don’t want to do this alone anymore.
A quick glance to the cook indicated interest, but Victoria ultimately remained silent. Yet, Jarka could see the anguish on her face. How she tensed her body as she chewed over her offer. She needed to talk. To vent. To reveal some hidden secret burning away at her.
Her verbal response was to politely decline, but there was hope. The girl was still anguished. As if to answer Jarka’s pleading hopes for connection, Victoria spoke of her feelings for Roy. They were strong enough to scare her. The cook could tell that the girl felt relieved, but still troubled. She could tell that there was more she wanted to say. Maybe if Jarka took the first step…
This was Jarka’s chance. She would tell her everything. Tell her about her powers. Tell her how frightened she was. She opened her mouth to speak.
Roy’s voice echoed across the auditorium. “I think it’s time you let them know you agree.”
The crowd erupted. Amidst all the cheers and stamps, Jarka was alone once more.
Hands wringing, Jarka surveyed the spread of confections. The past two
days had been spent toiling through the tiny kitchen in a struggle to produce. Toiling wasn’t the right word- that would imply that she hadn’t enjoyed it. Despite her aching back, hustling to provide the sugary snacks had been one of the most fulfilling challenges she had ever attempted.
But she had failed.
Of course, Hati and Skoll were of little help. In fairness, they had bustled through the kitchen as she barked orders – pleasantly barked. Now, however, they were perpetually trying to snatch up the few remaining treats before the intended consumers could devour them.
CRACK!
Luckily, Jarka was there to stop them. Her wooden spoon rapped the knuckles on Hati’s extended hand. Cradling his injury, he hissed menacingly. The cook shook her finger at him and mouthed the word “No.”
Hati considered the girl for a moment before reaching into his pocket. Out came a previously stashed cookie, which the boy promptly devoured with a victorious smirk.
The girl rolled her eyes. It had been a never ending battle since she had first uncovered the confections on that chilly morning. Armies of cupcakes helmeted in pastel dollops of frosting held the front line, flanked by a cavalry of crème puffs. To the east, a sea of fruity tart bars formed a tangy shoreline. Westward, mountains of cookies towered, their terrain nearly as diverse as they were numerous.
Initially, she had been concerned about the potential for leftovers, a peaceful end. Now, it seemed there would be no survivors.
Sigfried glanced at the dwindling desserts. “I think we’re going to need more cookies.”
Jarka turned her head to hide the wincing that contorted her features. Her face grew hot with embarrassment, with disgrace for her deficit. She knew his words weren’t an attempt to be cruel; that didn’t mean that the comment had lost its sting. Get a hold of yourself. To distract herself, she turned her eyes to the mob.
The crowd rumbled with excitement. The mass of bodies pressed forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the speaker as he emerged from backstage. Roy Munin, the smooth talker from Central City, approached the podium with a calm grace, like he was completely unaware of the multitude of faces with their eyes affixed to him. Like he was just getting ready to read a book by the fireplace.
He leaned into the microphone. The cacophony of the crowd diminished until not eve a whisper could be heard.
“We have gone on too long alone, people of Earth.” As the tawny haired man spoke, his eloquence surprised Jarka. Not one for current events, it was the first time the young girl had heard him truly spin his words for an audience. She felt herself become swept up by his message, yearning to take action, to fight. She may have been completely enraptured had it not been for the sudden appearance of Victoria by her side.
“This is...pretty amazing.” The newcomer’s eyes were widened, as though she couldn’t quite take in the entire sight of the crowd. Although it was difficult over the din of the speech, the two managed to hold a pleasant conversation.
The cook was surprised. Away from Roy, Victoria was rather enjoyable. In fact, it seemed as though the two could have much more in common than she had initially believed. Sigfried had been correct; there was more to Victoria than she and her cotton candy hair had let on to.
The girl spoke of hidden strength, and Jarka ached to reciprocate. The burden of her blossoming powers seemed too heavy to carry alone. Maybe Victoria would understand. Maybe… maybe she had abilities like hers. They could be confidantes in the formerly private struggle.
Jarka stepped towards Victoria and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Sometimes we need someone to talk to. I don't mind lending an ear.” Please. I don’t want to do this alone anymore.
A quick glance to the cook indicated interest, but Victoria ultimately remained silent. Yet, Jarka could see the anguish on her face. How she tensed her body as she chewed over her offer. She needed to talk. To vent. To reveal some hidden secret burning away at her.
Her verbal response was to politely decline, but there was hope. The girl was still anguished. As if to answer Jarka’s pleading hopes for connection, Victoria spoke of her feelings for Roy. They were strong enough to scare her. The cook could tell that the girl felt relieved, but still troubled. She could tell that there was more she wanted to say. Maybe if Jarka took the first step…
This was Jarka’s chance. She would tell her everything. Tell her about her powers. Tell her how frightened she was. She opened her mouth to speak.
Roy’s voice echoed across the auditorium. “I think it’s time you let them know you agree.”
The crowd erupted. Amidst all the cheers and stamps, Jarka was alone once more.
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
If life gives you lemons, hand them to me!
I've got a great recipe for lemon meringue pie.
If life gives you lemons, hand them to me!
I've got a great recipe for lemon meringue pie.