[PRP] Gourmand (Jordan, Lysander)

[prolixity]

Lysander was the trainee who'd been convinced that this was some kind of elaborate simulation, if Jordan remembered right. Maybe the dream of the island had helped with that, or maybe it had served to convince the man further that none of this was real. Either way, though, Jordan could sympathize with a craving for good coffee, and as long as it didn't become a regular mooching situation, he didn't mind sharing.

He got up from his desk and started the coffee machine, choosing one of the Kona blends that he saved for occasional use. He didn't know what this guy was used to, but it sounded like he'd been accustomed to high-end beans. If he complained about the free coffee, he could be politely invited to depart, anyway.  

[Baneful]

Lysander hadn't had a good cup of coffee since he'd gotten to the island, something that was just another stack of woes on top of his existing ones. He'd had some wicked withdrawals and was in the realm now where he felt half asleep every minute of every single day.

He could smell the coffee before he even knocked the door - or maybe that was wishful thinking - but he knocked anyway.

"Heeeyy." he said.

 

[prolixity]

Jordan opened the door and moved back so that Lys could come inside. "Hey," he said, nodding. They weren't particular friends, certainly, but neither were they really strangers at this point. "Coffee's almost ready."

He got down two mugs and set them on the counter. "Cream and sugar?" he asked. "Or do you take it black?" He shot a look over his shoulder at Lys, thoughtful, assessing.  

[Baneful]

Lysander sidled in, looking around with open curiosity.

"Depends on the blend." he said. "Whatever you recommend. Usually dark though, unless I want it white and like a caffeine kick to the head. "

 

[prolixity]

There had been recent repairs to the room, and the outer wall needed repainting still. Some of the furniture appeared to be secondhand. However, the room was impeccably tidy. A minipet tank occupied a corner, with a ball of sleeping fuzz inhabiting it.

"I prefer this blend dark, but I tend to prefer most coffee black, so I don't count on everyone sharing that opinion," Jordan said equably. He poured two cups of coffee and offered one to Lys. "Give it a try first, I'd say. This one's a medium roast with a little smokiness to it."  

[Baneful]

Lysander, in spite of his wealthy upbringing didn't have any harsh opinions about a room with a bit of damage. He felt like Jordan took pride in the place and it showed.

Taking the cup he took a slow swig of it and exhaled with a sound of sheer satisfaction. He was one of those people who without caffeine felt like he went through life in a sort of haze, half asleep, only on the border of being awake.

"Honestly, it tastes like ambrosia to me." he said, a little flushed and breathless.

"I've just been slowly dying since I got here, the second day I had the shakes."

It had been worse on the island he was sure, but much of that strange dream was already consigned to nothing, dissolving into a few days and little else of substance. "I love that smoky bite when I'm in the mood, you are a lifesaver."

He smiled, big and friendly. "What do people call you? Most people call me Lys, but Anders, Sandy, whatever is just fine with me."

 

[prolixity]

Jordan nodded at the sigh, semi-involuntarily; he had a fair amount of sympathy for caffeine withdrawal and the sore lack of good coffee options available to trainees. "I had the cafeteria coffee to keep me from dying when I got here, although that's a last resort," he said. "It's not undrinkable, but that's about all that can be said for it. I started saving for my own machine as soon as I could."

"Just Jordan is fine," he answered. "I don't really have any nicknames. If you don't have a preference as to what you want to be called, I suppose I'll just go with Lys also."  

[Baneful]

"No nicknames? Man, you lucked out." Lysander said easily. "I used to have all sorts of nicknames growing up." he rolled his eyes. "Beanstalk was a favourite. Kids, real funny."

He took another sip from the cup, savouring it as if it was his last (because here it might well have been).

"Half the time when I go to the cafeteria someone is fixing something and everything is covered in dust. The machine only works on and off too. My dad had some ten grand thing at his house for making coffee, like it was a coffee house, he didn't even like it. I do though. I'm always tired."

 

[prolixity]

"Doesn't matter what your name is or what you're like, kids will figure out something stupid to call you." Jordan shook his head. "My cousins had a couple of stupid things they called me when they got mad at me, but I don't count those as nicknames so much as insults."

"Dust? Just another condiment, right?" He laughed a little, ruefully. "I can't wait till the repairs are done. I'm not that fond of doing my own cooking. The coffee I'll keep making myself, though. The runic conversion for the machine cost me, but it was worth it."  

[Baneful]

"True." he said. "Kids are kids."

"I can't believe that they didn't just pay for actual people to come and fix things, making people do it who work here is just messed up. Do they always source their labour from people here?" he looked dismayed at the thought.

"I would say I'd get my own but they haven't paid me yet and I'm not sure if they will."

Prolixity

 

[prolixity]

Jordan nodded. "Labor's always sourced from within the organization. Everyone takes their turn at various jobs. To the best of my knowledge, it's partly secrecy and partly sheer cheapness." He shrugged. "Anywhere you go, there's going to be chores of one type or another."

"They'll pay you eventually," he said. "Right now ... well. Could you honestly say that you wouldn't take off if you had a little money and a way off the island?"

Baneful

 

[Baneful]

"It's horrible. They obviously recruit from a certain age group so there are no master builders, no craftsmen, no elders or leaders to pass down knowledge. Everything seems to be done in a ramshackle or downright bad way." he wrinkled his nose. "This whole place feels like student dorms rather than anything else. It's bad."

He tried to put a brave face on the idea of the meagre pay they got even counting as wages at all.

"Well true. If I could get out of here, I would get out of here. I don't like being a captive."

Prolixity

 

[prolixity]

"I'm not going to defend recruitment," Jordan said, and sighed. "I think things were different once. You've seen the ruined town. There must have been enough people to build, support, and fill it, at some point."

He nodded. "They're going to keep a close eye on you and keep you away from the resources necessary to leave for a while. You can't go back. Aside the secrecy aspect and the fact that your death was faked to explain your disappearance, returning to your life would put your family and any friends or associates in danger."

Baneful

 

[Baneful]

"Do I even want to know what happened to all those people?" he said grimly. "This place sounds like a meat grinder, a lot of people just vanishing like a secret service." And he just couldn't help but imagine a bustling town slowly fading away, people just leaving behind their faint marks and nothing else.

<> his weapon said <>

He disagreed, ignoring the inner voice.

"I suppose they'd be in danger." he said, accepting more or less that it would harm them. "I wouldn't want my daughter to be hurt."

And the drink in his hands just made everything more reasonable, less distressing, less unbearable. "There just aren't many options if you stay here though it seems like."

Prolixity

 

[prolixity]

"Almost twenty years ago, there was a horseman uprising that wiped out a large percentage of the hunter population that existed then. I don't know if the town was more full then, but rebuilding the organization has been a slow process, from what I've been able to find out. It's not a safe life in general, but horsemen are particularly dangerous." Jordan sipped his coffee, looking grim.

"Horsemen are the primary reason that you can't contact your family. They track hunters when they find us, and they can and will track you back to your family and kill them for the sake of wiping out your bloodline, since Fear sensitivity is often hereditary." He shook his head. "Don't put your daughter at risk, man. It's not worth it." It was entirely possible that Lys's daughter would one day be approached, if she carried the right genes. Jordan decided that this was not a good time to mention that.

"You were involved in business, weren't you?" he asked. "Much of the office work and paperwork involved in the running of the organization takes place in Death division. I'm guessing that you've gotten a lot of the menial work since you've gotten here; that happens when you're still new."

Baneful