[Firebrand] Onions Have Layers

[Arcane]

Ce'na picked at her soup, wrinkling her nose in displeasure. Most of the food in High Reaches' dining hall was tasty enough, but this had way too many onions. Ugh. Why? A nice warm soup had sounded perfect, in this weyr that never fully warmed, even in summer. But not this soup, which was basically a spoonful of liquid onion.

"I don't suppose you like onion, do you?" Ce'na asked Shr'k, the wingmate sitting next to her. Maybe she could convince him to do a food swap? Or at least pawn the soup off on him so she didn't have to feel too badly going up for something else.

Ce'na didn't know Shr'k especially well. He mostly kept to himself. But she knew he could be funny. And they were wingmates. Wingmates were supposed to help each other out sometimes, right?

[FirebrandPhlox]

Shr’k looked over at Ce’na as she addressed him, chewing on a piece of meat loudly as he responded, ”does a dragon need to be oiled? I love onions.” In truth, he loved any food that was smelly and mildly repellant to folks. He found that eating them and getting a case of bad breath was a good way to keep unwanted conversationalists at a good distance.

”What’s the matter?” he asked, noticing her disgusted expression. [/b]”Onion too strong for you?”[/b] He gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. He didn’t know Ce’na terribly well, but had flown in the same wing as her for a bit and generally liked her temperament, even if they didn’t talk directly to each other much. ”If a few roots can take out a big strong rider of Pern, we better watch our backs more carefully!””

[Arcane]

"If you love onions as much as his great flakiness Noath needs his daily oiling, you'll adore this soup," Ce'na said, in her best trader salesman voice, returning Shr’k's smile with a playful twinkle in her eye. Thank Faranth someone who didn't take himself too seriously, "Bathe your tongue in its pure onion flavor, unadulterated by carrot or celery or anything else to detract from the sheer...onion-ness of it all."

Ce'na took another sniff. Someone must have gotten the recipe wrong. This couldn't be right, "Imagine if thread started coming equipped with root vegetables to take us down. Just think- if we were fighting evil produce, goats could be the saviors of Pern." She snorted, bemused by the idea, "There are a few riders I wouldn't mind seeing pelted with beets- or with their eyes watering from too much onion. And a few dragons, for that matter. If you're listening thread- you should definitely try it."

[FirebrandPhlox]

Shr'k laughed, then put his hand to his chin, acting as if he was skeptically pondering the offer. "I'm not quite sure. Is it really pure onion flavor? I won't be having any of those other vegetables in there detracting from the pungent grace of the onion. If there's even a hint of another root, that just won't do. But if it's truly the exquisite peak of onion, I might be convinced to part with these potatoes for it." He gestured towards a pile of roasted potato on his plate.

Shr'k considered the image of produce raining down alongside Thread, and chuckled at the thought. "I know I'd hate to get pelted with a carrot while flying. But now that you mention it, I would enjoy seeing a few folks trying to dodge high velocity roots." Shr'k didn't hold much ill will towards the other riders of the weyr, but did genuinely think it would be funny to see such an odd scenario play out.

[Arcane]

Roasted potatoes definitely sounded better than onion soup. Ce'na grinned at the offer, "Not an ounce of cheese or crouton either. Just onion. At least to my humble trader's tongue."

Ce'na flopped down and winked, "Of course if I was really trying to sell you this as a trader, I'd turn that into a challenge, say some nonsense about true bronzeriders having more refined palettes. Nothing sells product better than making a game of it. I once sold a bottle of water for two whole marks, claiming it was a perfume only a Lord could smell."

Noath would have told her she should have tried harder to actually get the perfume, instead of taking the easy way out. But she didn't feel guilty. The steward she'd sold it to had been kind of a dick and it had been funny to listen to him wax euphorically.

"I nominated Th'ou for getting an unexpected mouthful of celery," Ce'na said. It'd have been funnier at Fort, back when there were potential victims like Z'osh and Tuckal, "He's a brownrider who spent two candlemarks last sevenday lecturing me on how bronzeriders shouldn't run through the lower caverns like weyrbrats. I was already running late, which was why I was running in the first place."

[FirebrandPhlox]

”Well, if it’s truly just the purest of onion, completely unadulterated, I can make that trade.” He pulled the bowl towards himself and pushed the plate, potatoes side towards Ce’na. ”But if I find so much as a single slice of carrot, I want my potatoes back,” Shr’k said with a playful wink.

He loudly slurped the soup, pleased it was just as onion-y as promised. ”Sounds like he deserved it,” he commented on the trading tale. ”You should’ve charged him double if he was that gullible. If those fancy Lords are buying such frivolous items, you might as well sell it at a premium.” Shr’k had absolutely no respect for the aristocracy, and felt the lot deserved every bad thing that happened to them.

Shr’k rolled his eyes. ”Why bother stopping you if you’re clearly in a hurry? If you didn’t knock some unsuspecting soul over, who cares if you were running? Maybe some of the weyrfolk need to learn to get better at dodging, keep them on their feet.” If Shr’k obeyed any rules, it was just to keep those above him from bothering him. He didn’t see the harm in being a little lax in policy, anyone so concerned about a little running clearly had a stick where the sun don’t shine.

”Next time you see him in a hall, you should cut him off and walk really slowly. Set a good example for everyone,” he said with a mischievous grin. ”Best to make sure he’s serious about walking respectfully, or whatever garbage he was feeding you.”