diatu | A chilly beginning

Who: A Demon Prince (Pallidus) and several Sundered (YOU!!)
Where: The Great Hall
When: Someday late October
What: He's a little lost, and little lonely, and a little homesick. But also hungry.

Warnings: Perhaps mild angst? Probably nothing terrible though.

Any academy students who keeps to a normal waking schedule probably didn't notice this late-night arrival. A young man with ash grey skin and thigh-length black hair, not to mention the impala horns piercing upwards from his head, sits at a table situated in a shadowed corner. He sits straight in his chair, seemingly poised and refined, save for the slightly crooked placing of the silver chains adorning his hair.

Dark lines of near black also hang under his eyes as if he hadn't slept, which, given the circumstances, he hasn't.

Before him sits a steaming cup of tea and a plate of various fruits and vegetables. Each time he takes a bite, he chews thoughtfully and his eyes, despite their lack of pupils, take on a thoughtful, faraway look. Until he reaches broccoli, which he almost immediate spits back up into his napkin with an incredulous "What in the underground? Humans eat this?"

Blushing a dark black in his cheeks, Pallidus tries to regain his composure by taking a sip of tea. Yep, nothing to see here.

[Note: This could be breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacktime, whenever!]

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Aziraphale gladly ushered him toward the kitchen, eager to get some food in himself, leading the way after a friendly and angelic pout of concern at the thin limb.

"See, now this won't do," he tsked gently. "You're just like Crowley, all skin and bones. Whatever do you eat normally? We'll have to find something you like, get you filled out a bit."

Pallidus laughs lightly, his tone sincere. "Now, there's something that would take a true miracle. My mother was always doing this and that to try and get me a little rounder, but I'm afraid all those genes went to my younger brothers Viribus and Genus."

Now Viribus wasn't just chubby, but a whole beast made of muscle, while Genus was more on the soft side. Still, their various body types in his family was always cause for some type of hubbub. Even his father had worried when he was growing so thin along with getting tall, but, well, Pallidus was healthy enough as an adult. He wasn't going to be keeling over anytime soon.

He wrinkles his nose, purses his lips, and appears to be thinking a very proud challenge accepted.

"True miracles happen to be my specialty."

An inquisitive part of Aziraphale tucks away the names of the brothers for later consideration. By Earthly standards, they were all of Latin origin, and he has to wonder if the shared linguistic roots meant anything.

What they ultimately come upon is not so much the kitchen, or even a kitchen, but the place where food appears in the Great Hall for the students. Aziraphale likes to think of it as the kitchen. Partly this is because it sort of is (food has, largely, always just appeared on his table either by means of miracle or waitstaff except for those places where the whole purpose is to see one's food prepared) and because it feels like a naughty treat to be nabbing things from the kitchen or buffet table at all hours of the day without retribution (like a child stealing cookies from the cookie jar). The other part is because he prefers to think of the food as being made, and not magicked or miracled into existence, because everything is always better when it has been handmade.

He hands Pallidus a plate and begins to select his own meal while making food suggestions for his new acquaintance. Aziraphale picks up some grapes and then put a small bunch of them on Pallidus' plate without a second thought.

"Those rolls there are just a touch sweet, nice crumb, not quite brioche," he says, gesturing to a basket of golden bread. "A shame really; a woman lost her head over some brioche--quite literally--but they make for a decent snack, if you're not interested in a sandwich."

He pops a grape into his mouth, snacking happily as he continues his search.

"And there may be some small meat and potato pies at the end. A food cart in town makes better, but these are passable."

Whatever Aziraphale happens to mean is beyond Pallidus' knowledge, but the man does seem to understand a lot about food. He'll happily allow himself to be led along back to the buffet tables lined up at every conceivable time with various tasty treats, and some not so tasty ones apparently.

Pallidus graciously accepts the plate with a mild "thank you" on his lips and follows Mr. Fell around with a contented smile on his face. He doesn't really need the man to feed him, but if he's directed to the tastier dishes he won't refuse.

Pallidus has already placed two pieces of brioche on his plate before his brain catches up with what Mr. Fell just said. "Wait, really? Why would someone be murdered over bread? Was she starving someone?"

Ah, potatoes he knows very well. Pallidus' red eyes gleam a little brighter at the mentions and he hurries over to place one of the dainty pies on his plate. "Would you show me this cart sometime, Mister Fell? Well, assuming it stays open late in the day."

Eyeing the fruit bar, Pallidus is delighted to see that something not-so-new to him has actually appeared among the platter of fresh fruits--pomegranates. Taking one, he happily places it on his plate. He knows it'll be a struggle, but they're ever so good!

"Her country had been spending to excess and their citizens were starving because of it. But," he says, awkwardly trying to make light of it, even though he suspects Pallidus won't understand the vague reference to musical theater, "to be quite honest, the French seem to be terribly tetchy about bread in general."

He notices the little hurry to the pies and is glad to have found something that has caught the Prince's interest so much.

"Oh, of course! I would be delighted to. Always happy to encourage business to some of the local shops."

He looks up as the young Prince selects a pomegranate. "Those are messy to eat, I should warn you, but very good. Do you have them back home?"

Pallidus frowns, a line of concern appearing between his brows. Cavernae had very limited resources and only those granted special permissions from King Zinzo were able to retrieve further produce from the Upperworld. In times of need, it was only logical to put forth measures to ensure the various peoples of the land did not go hungry. "May I never fall to such unscrupulous practices."

He didn't know who or what the French were, but that was certainly not something to be proud of.

It was to be a date then! Pallidus would need a little showing around, as he didn't have nearly as much free time to venture outside the walls as the others in this world.

Pallidus chuckles. "They are a mess, but they are perhaps some of the juiciest treats we have at home. They grow well in our rocky landscapes, but they must be tended to almost around the clock."

Keeping them dry was easy. It was making sure it had enough light spells focused on it, as well as having other plants around to encourage pollination.

A chilly beginning

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you know, it would help if I didn't rely on memory or whatever for settings...

lol it's all good

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