RIFTER ARRIVAL: Guardian 9:45

[faderifting]

WHO: New rifters, rescuers, and anyone else
WHAT: New arrivals are collected and transported to Kirkwall
WHEN: Mid-Guardian, 9:45
WHERE: The hills north of Starkhaven
NOTES: This log contains prompts for the ARRIVAL and RECOVERY of new rifters, as well as the subsequent QUARANTINE period. All prompts are open to anyone.

Comments

[amnotaweasel]

Misao paused when he did, turning to look out the window into the courtyard. It seemed busy, if a little dismal -- just the same stone everywhere, banners with the sword going through the heavy-lashed eyeball, as if to say we own this, people walking with their heads down, almost all of them in uniform.

She said nothing of the way he'd stopped to look out into the courtyard. Maybe he was comparing it to his own home, the way she had; there was little use in bringing up something so painful.

And while she noticed that he gave no name, she said nothing of that, either. If he was Japanese -- which his clothing suggested -- then it was possible he been cast off as a child, rather than given back, and those children often weren't named. Han'nya hadn't until he'd been adopted into the clan by her grandfather, and no real given name until he'd received his mask.

She listened to the exchange between the stranger and the cook, and then blinked, startling a little backward, at the offer of Ishikari Nabe. Her startle put her in somebody's way, and she dodged slightly left and forward again to recover.

"You mean... the town? In Hokkaido?" She furrowed her brow. How was he supposed to -- "Oh! You mean the hot pot?" She smiled, but she reached up to rub a hand against the back of her neck. "I've never had it. The last time I was in Hokkaido..."

She'd been on the verge of starving. But that was such an unpleasant thing to talk about, that she said instead, "I was chasing a rumor toward Sendai. But I do love salmon! And, back home, I prepared the fish portion for our inn's guests. If you'll show me how to make ishikarinabe, I can certainly make a few dishes for you."

[meds4sale]

"No no," he said, cold and even and slow, even as he tapped the side of his head in an apologetic gesture.

"I would not want to put you through such trouble. You see, she gave me a lot..."

And he turned his head to the crate of vegetables and huge slabs of salmon. It was far too much for one person to eat before it would spoil, even if the vegetables were the sort to keep longer than most.

"...I simply dislike wasting food, even a little."

So Misao was an innkeeper - or perhaps the daughter of one. Such things tended to be family businesses. Perhaps he'd even stayed there at some point.

"May I ask - which inn did you work at?"

[amnotaweasel]

Misao waved her hands, shaking her head. She wasn't sure if he was fake declining for politeness' sake and would change his mind, or genuinely declining. Neither of those would have changed her answer, anyhow: "It's no trouble at all! The least I can do, really."

Judging by how they'd eaten on the way to the Gallows... Well. Being able to whip up a taste of home would be comforting. And of course, there was giri, limited as it was between one of the Oniwabanshuu and one who wasn't. A gift obligated her to gift him back -- at least something like this did, anyway. If matters became at all complicated, her highest duty would be to her family.

"The Aoi-ya, in Kyoto." She smiled. "I'm trained in Kyoto kaiseki; you should consider that before you turn down my food for good."

His wasn't a face she thought she'd ever seen -- and it was one she thought she'd remember -- but she'd spent entire seasons away from the ryokan. He might well have stopped in while she'd been searching for Aoshi-sama. She couldn't help but wonder what Jiya and Ochika-han would have made of him.

[meds4sale]

"It is possible," he said. "I have been to Kyoto many, many times."

At many, many different times as well, but he was the sort to conveniently leave out that little tidbit of information.

"Perhaps it slipped my memory. How silly of me."

He stepped out the kitchen, leaving the cooks to their work. It was best if they weren't in the way - the Inquisition operated like a machine and the food was the oil keeping it running.

"It will be nice to have someone else around fond of cooking."

He cast a sidelong glance at Misao.

"The food here is not bad, but it is heavy. And I have something you may appreciate."