Cooking Corporal Punishment

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Kitchen
Perhaps you followed your nose here.. the cooking aromas are tempting. This is the main kitchen of the Weyr. At any time of the day or night you find cooks and drudges busy making meals and preparing foodstuffs for storage for later use. The cavern has been shaped into a huge room with a domed ceiling. The huge ovens and cooking stoves line the outer wall, their perpetual fires fueled by natural gas from a nearby well. Vent holes pierce the cavern walls, keeping the room amazingly clear of smoke. The inner wall has long counters of smooth stone, carved from the walls. You see a large, heavy looking metal-clad door. This is the large cold storage room, much like a man-made ice cave. The walls are made of volcanic rock, known for it's insulating properties. The heat exchanger is also powered by natural gas.

The dinner rush at Half Moon is still in full swing but it seems that things aren't running quite as smoothly in the kitchens today. A few of the workers had been called away to attend to other business and in their stead are a handful of candidates, among them Ezrayl. Today's menu? Stew, and lots of it. Large pots of the meat and vegetable filled deliciousness are currently on the stove and occasionally tended to while the cooks run about preparing a bit more. Really, the candidates don't have too difficult of a job. They're just supposed to be watching the pots and fetching things when needed. Simple, right? In fact, Ezrayl is currently walking by the stoves carrying a tray full of spices to be put back in their proper place.

Despite it being a free day for Aglaia, she's volunteered to help out in the kitchens - with the other workers off doing Very Important Things (presumably), it only makes sense to fill the void. It helps that she has cooking experience - which means she's able to help with a bit more of the prep work - but that doesn't mean she has a talent for being in an active -kitchen-. She's done helping with the vegetables and is on her way to go dump the scrap bits and vegetable leavings, but she's also just lost enough in her thoughts that she winds up on a potential collision course with a spice-bearing Candidate coming from another direction. One can only hope the other young woman's on top of her game because this one isn't!

Ezrayl is quick on her feet, she really is. After being with the renegades for so long and working as a guard her reflexes are superb. Or they're supposed to be at least. Today she seems just a little off of her game. Maybe it's because she's spent all day in the stables, but it's today, at this key moment, that the young woman /doesn't/ manage to dodge. It's with a loud smack that the red-haired lass runs into Aglaia and sends her plate of spices flying into the air (and also possibly vegetable scraps!!). One can almost see the horror in those bright green eyes as she watches the mysterious powders rise into the air and then fall into the various pots of stew upon the stoves. It might be a miracle that the usual kitchen workers don't notice, there's too many other things happening.

Oh, sweet Faranth! That might be what Aglaia -would- cry out… if she wasn't breathlessly aghast that the collision happened in the first place. Spices soar, scraps go sailing, and the universal hiccup of lost grace on both sides resolves itself in what will probably be a very interesting tasting stew! "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," the dark-haired girl says once she gathers her wits about her. Horror has long since resigned itself to apology, while she chews vigorously at her lower lip. "I should have been paying more attention. I- oh no. What-" Questions, interrupted! Thoughts… broken up!

Ezrayl isn't nearly as graceful with her words as Aglaia. "Shit…shit shit shit." The former guard groans and runs a hand through her red locks while glancing first at the stew and then back at the other candidate. "You alright? Sorry, should've paid attention to where I was going." Her hands make quick work of the tiny pots that had contained the spices, lining them up on her tray once more despite them being mostly empty. She holds them out before leaning over the vats of stew and taking a tiny whiff…which just earns another curse. "Dammit, these don't smell right. Do you know how to cook?" Because maybe if they can just fix it themselves….

Red-faced and blustering a bit, Aglaia goes about picking up the bits on the floor that she can find and snag without being trampled by the passing, oblivious cooks who are on their way to do the real work. The bits are dumped into the rubbish container with slightly shaking hands and she says, "I'm usually more aware than that. Mother would-" she doesn't finish the thought, not with Ezrayl taking the daring step of actually taking a whiff of the stews. "I- well, I can cook, but I can't cook-cook," whatever -that- means. "What spices were you carrying? Were they labeled?" That question might be a crapshoot; maybe they are, maybe they aren't and it probably won't matter, given givens. She goes to take a sniff or two of the stew vats and wrinkles her nose. "Oh, goodness. This, um. This can be fixed." Said in the voice of someone trying to convince herself -and- someone else at the same time. If she doesn't say 'maybe' or 'I think', then surely it's pure confidence, right? Right.

"No idea…" Ezrayl picks up one little vat to look at it and then another, though the answer must be unfavorable because there's a scowl on her lips now. "I don't see any labels, you'd think that they would since the kitchen is such a busy place." The red haired young woman taps her foot on the floor a few times before glancing around for a soon. There! She takes it and actually dares to try one of the stews. It probably isn't a surprise when she promptly begins to gag on it. "Disgusting….we have to do something to it. What do you think? More vegetables? Uh…spices?" Because she is not exactly the best at cooking. "How about this one?" She'll hold up one of the spices to Aglaia, something that smells rather strong but not too bad. "Or perhaps one of the others?"

"Oh, goodness." Aggie glances at the jars as well; as if she might somehow spot something the other Candidate missed. No dice there, though, and she drags a hand over her head thoughtfully. "Maybe they're just able to pick them out by smell or taste, but- seriously, with Candidates about, that's ridiculous." She goes on her own spoon hunt, though she's visibly reluctant to try it after the stuff seems intent on clawing right back up Ezrayl's gullet. She dubiously dips the tip of her spoon in to try, only to come up a bit green about the gills for the effort. "Sweet mother of dragons," she blurts out, then reddens a bit at the swear. "Tubers. Lots of tubers. Those tend to… absorb flavors. Usually." She considers the contaminated concoction with a wary eye and, while she rolls the taste around on her tongue, she's drawn to take a whiff of whatever the other girl offers. "That, yeah! That's good. And, um… black pepper? And probably salt." Those, at least, are easy! "And- shoot. Do you think there's any garlic about?"

Apparently an ok is all Ezrayl needs from Aglaia because as soon as she gets it she's dumping the entirety of the mystery vat spice into the pots of stew. Probably not a good idea in any way shape or form. She also manages to overdo it with the salt but holds back on the black pepper (the least likely to be offensive tasting!). Just throw it all in! "Tubers and…garlic, they have to have garlic somewhere…" The former guard cranes her neck, green eyes quickly flitting about until they land on a tray of vegetables. From it, she snags a couple of tubers and a full clove of a garlic. This is looking on the bright side. At least, it is until her foot slides on a stray tuber peel and that clove, full and unpeeled, is tossed up into the air. Maybe Ez will be lucky and Aglaia will be able to catch it. Or maybe both of them will be unlucky and there will be something even more unpleasant in the stew…who knows!

Things -seem- to be looking up, even with the overzealous spicing. It can't make it worse, right? Aglaia leans in to sample the stew again, her features scrunched up with somehing thoughtful - or maybe she's battling her guts again, Faranth only knows. Or, at least, until she says, "Just a little more pepper. I think between that and probably- yeah, about that much garliii…" she trails off when Ezrayl slips and utters a pained little squeak of sympathy. Her hands fly up to cover the shocked 'o' of her mouth - which means the worst possible thing happens: the garlic hits the lip of the stew vat and proceeds to drop directly into it with a viscous *gloop*. "Oh, sweet -mother-," she blurts out and is immediately torn between helping the other candidate up or hunting for a ladle. She settles on a rapidfire, "Are you okay? Can you get up? Oh, I'm so sorry, I thought I got all of that!"

The only horror on Ezrayl's face is for the garlic that's dropped into the stew. It's with a tiny grunt that she manages to get to her feet and nods a few times. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry about it." And the sentiments certainly sound genuine (because they are!). Unfortunately for the pair, the stew is beginning to bubble ominously. And now…well, it's not quite the color it's /supposed/ to be, nor is it the right consistency. It's more like goop now, goop filled with vegetable scraps and…things. Now what else can they add to this disaster to make it edible. "More spices, you think?" Or wait. Wait…meat! "There are some meat scraps too." That's always a possibility, right?

"Oh. Oh, good. Thank goodness! I think I can- oh. Oh no." Hope rapidly turns into horror as Aglaia catches a glimpse of that bubbling liquid. She fumbles to adjust the temperature of the stove below it, her tongue poked out between her lips. "I can get a ladle and get that garlic out," a pity she can't do the same for the rest! "Oh! Oh, yes! If you can find some of those," she snaps her head around to look at Ezrayl at the suggestion. "That would probably make this… um." While she's fishing for words, she'll go get a thing to go fishing for garlic with. Hopefully, by the time she's done, her failed word-smithing will be forgotten. "Are they serving bread with it? That might help a little, too," she reasons. "Ugh. This needs something else…"

It needs…tunnelsnake heads, that's what it needs! Ezrayl is quickly grabbing a bowl of meat scraps and offering them to Aglaia. Go on. DUMP THEM IN! She'll take a handful and throw them into two of the vats, leaving the last for the other candidate to add (or not add!) the meat in as she pleases. "If we make it smell pretty good, maybe they won't notice the taste." It's kind of a good plan. Until someone eats it. At least they haven't managed to throw anything rotten in it…yet! For now, the guard candidate is looking for another of those small spice vats. She glances over them, lips pursing until she eventually just resorts to smelling each one until finding the one that seems most appetizing.

Aggie doesn't hesitate, either. Once the scraps are offered, she takes them and plops the rest of the meat into the vats that seem to need it most. The bowl is set aside when she's done and the conglomeration of stew-like ingredients is given a healthy stir as if that might somehow settle it into something reasonable. Maybe. Possibly. "It's just… a different recipe than usual," she murmurs, half to herself. "I mean. Sometimes, the cooks -do- make mistakes." Except this time, but still. She goes hunting for a few of the spice pots herself, sniffing this or tasting that until she finds something that's halfway decent. Curry? Sure. Why not. It can't make it -worse-. Although… "You know. If they have any hot peppers…" The mental wheels, they are a-turnin'. "How do those taste? Over there?" The other vats of stew, she means.

"Peppers? I think I saw some one that table…" Ezrayl is about to head over there but pauses to dip into the other vats of stew. If they can even call it stew anymore. It's practically become a sentient being in and of itself. Nevertheless, the guard bravely tries some…and just barely manages not to throw up. "Th-that thing…these need it too." She manages to cough a few times, her words stuttering as she does so. "The smell's worse than anything I think. We just, yeah we need to cover it up with the pepper and that other powder thing." Ezrayl will help with the delusion that everything is going to be ok. If they keep saying it then maybe it'll work and half the Weyr won't get food poisoning. On the bright side, half the Weyr has already eaten so they really won't be forcing this upon /everyone/.

"Yeah, the hot ones. You just need the seeds, but- be careful! Here, I'll- oh, goodness. That bad?" Aglaia gets a bit more pale at Ezrayl's reaction. "If we make it spicy enough, people won't eat a lot - and they won't notice the smell or anything, right?" Logic! It's gotten them pretty far, right? Clearly, it will work again. "Get, um. Milk? Or cheese. That'll help kill some of the taste so far. I'll take care of the peppers - you add in the powder-stuff?" She worries at her lower lip vigorously, with a dubious eye cast toward the Stew That Should Not Be. "… I hope they don't kill us."

"Yes, exactly. We simply need to mask the worst of it and it'll be fine." Ezrayl nods, clearly amenable to this logic. Yes, this will all work perfectly. The candidate moves off to get more of the curry powder and snags some milk on the way. It's as she's pouring these ingredients in that the guard shoots a slightly sympathetic look to the other candidate. "I don't think they will. We were technically trying to help after all, so…all in good faith." This part at she does sounds confident about at least. They aren't /trying/ to give everyone food poison, it's just an accident…yeah! An accident!

"Yes, wait, no, don't-" And it's too late. The milk is added before Aglaia can call out a clarification - but, not to worry! It probably corrects the color - if not the taste! Meanwhile, she settles into splitting a few of the peppers in half, only to take them over to the vats and scrape the seeds directly into the myriad of mixtures. "I think- I really think this will work," she says, but it's with all the confidence of someone who is pretty sure someone's going to the Infirmary. She sucks her teeth and finishes gutting the peppers into the stews, only to plop the whole halves into the stuff. There. Done. "I hope you're right," she says after a moment, offering up her own, slightly tilted, smile. It's thin, but it's there. "And they really should have labeled those pots," she adds, as if that might bolster their (hopefully not) eventual defense!

Ezrayl watches the last of the peppers get thrown into the stew and manages several nods, as if to reassure them both. "It looks much better, and it smells fine…I think it'll be alright." Nobody will /die/ from it at least. "Those pots should have been labeled, and we really did the best we could…worst case scenario, I think we might get stable mucking duty for a few extra days, but…nothing too over the top." And now, NOW of all times there is a hurried kitchen worker coming towards them…or towards the stews rather. There's no more time to fix anything because it seems that their disaster is heading for the caverns!

"Done bun can't be undone," Aglaia mutters when the kitchen worker hustles in. She steps back to more or less join Ezrayl, mindful to keep her hands to herself - and away from her face! That stuff is dangerous until she gets a chance to scrub it off properly. Which, well, will probably be quite soon once those vats are dealt with. She cuts a glance askance to Ezrayl, then back to the vats, then -back- again to her fellow Candidate with a murmured, "Sooo, you ate already, right? Because, if you didn't, I know where they're keeping the cured meats and some of the better cheeses and all that."

One of the kitchen workers is just setting several pots of very questionable stew onto a cart to roll it into the living caverns. There are various things in it…milk, pepper, too many spices, tunnel snake heads, vegetable scraps, and meat scraps plus other things. It looks alrightish and it doesn't smell bad anymore, but the taste is not guaranteed in any way shape or form. Ezrayl and Aglaia are watching it get sent off, and are just about to wash the hands of the matter. Or so they think. "I might have forgotten to have dinner first, where's the meat and cheese stash? We've worked pretty hard…probably earned a snack." There's an amused sort of grin shot at the other candidate, the expression bordering towards conspiratory really.

It's a matter of washing their hands figuratively - and, in Aglaia's case, quite literally. "Um, hold on. Let me take care of this really quickly." She holds up her pepper-juiced fingers and wiggles them ominously, then shuffles off to the sinks - after getting a thing of milk. She scrubs vigorously, rinses with the milk, then scrubs again, just to make sure everything's right as rain. And, all the while, she's saying, "It's in the back, where all the other cold stuff is kept. They hid it behind a few containers of vegetables, but you should be able to find it pretty easily. And, I'm pretty sure they have some older, crusty bread hanging around somewhere…" She's definitely -not- watching the cart, the stew, or anything else at all. Nope. Hands. Those need cleaned right now for reasons best left unspoken.

And it seems like they might get away with it until, after a few minutes a loud. "UGH-!" cries out from the living cavern. "WHAT THE HELL!" is screamed out by an angry woman's voice.

Ezrayl wanders over to the sinks with Aglaia and waits while the other candidate washes her hands. After that's all said and done, she's about to where the chilled food is stored…but it seems that there will be no such luck. The scream has the former guard immediately freezing and then running a hand over her face. "Shit…I think someone tried the stew." There's a quick glance back over her shoulder, green eyes settling on the kitchen doors and waiting for some enraged resident to come in and chop their heads off. "I was hoping they wouldn't notice it until after we managed to disappear…"

"Oh -drat-." The cry doesn't go unnoticed by Aglaia, who mutters a, "-Double- drat," as Ezrayl only confirms her suspicions. She dries her hands quickly with a grimace and glances warily in the direction the cry came from. "What now?" Because, let's be honest, the other Candidate looks a little more like she'd know what to do in this situation - mostly because -she- certainly has no idea! Panic is just a burgeoning blossom on her face right now - and it's definitely not going to end well if anyone does have it in their head to lay into the two!

A big boot pushes the the kitchen door open with a loud bang as Cassara's face looks in, her face livid. "WHO MADE THAT STEW?!" she yells with big, angry eyes and a rather red face. She looks around and eyes Ezrayl and Aglaia… and Aglaia's panicked face gives it all away. The Brownriders eyes widen. "… You two…"

"Now….we hope someone doesn't bash our heads in." Ezrayl tries to inject a bit of humor into her voice while replying to Aglaia, but all that goes to naught when Cassara arrives. Excuses aren't really Ezrayl's forte, so the words that come out of her mouth may or may not make the situation any worse. "We didn't so much make it as try to revive it using whatever we could grab our hands on." Revive from what? Maybe if she doesn't specify that no one will ask. "It uh…probably tastes better with bread, have you tried that?"

"… that isn't very helpful." It's the last deadpan utterance Aglaia can make before Cassara's untimely arrival. She wrings her hands in the towel, making a poor show of someone who probably should be nonchalant about the whole ordeal. While Ezrayl explains, she nods slowly, accentuating each point with a faint noise or a subtle gesture. On the heels of the other Candidate's suggestion, she chimes in with, "Or see if they have any rice? It should go really good on that. Or mashed tubers. Or, um…" she trails off, eyes widening just a little as she gets a good look at the poor brownrider.

Cassara spits on the ground! "I can still taste it!" She mades an indignant look at their suggestion. Bread? Rice? "Oh yeah, SURE." She wipes sweat off her forehead. "How about you grab some of that bread and rice and -come out with me-."

"We already tried it, but it's better than starving." This is Ezrayl's not so helpful reply to Cassara's suggestion that they follow her outside. "Nothing we put in there was rotten either." Maybe the former guard should be a little more panicked about all of this. Her gaze slides over to Aglaia once and then back again. "For the record, we weren't trying to make a mess of it. Some spices got spilled in and it smelled bad so we were trying to fix it." Maybe this will help their case a little teeny tiny bit.

"It's- I mean, it's not so bad if you let it mellow in your mouth a little," Aglaia offers. She cants a glance to Ezrayl, then back to Cassara - wary, of course, of leaving the rider out of her direct sight for long. "It's a -lot- better than it was," she adds, giving the towel a final twisting before she blows out a breath and tucks the cloth into her belt. "It's- um. It's not likely to make anyone sick, though, like she said. It's just a little… spicy." Let's go with that, in spite of the rapidly exploding situation. "… I'm not even supposed to be here today." So much for a rest day! She scouts for some kind of bread or bowl of rice and will eventually find -something- to that effect.

"A -little- spicy?!" Cassara shakes her head in disbelief. "… Oh, really? You -tasted it- and put it out? Oh… Well then you won't mind having a meal with me then?" she puts on the fakest 'smiling but I'm actually pissed' face she has. "Just a little snack, then I won't have to go -tell the weyrling master-."

"She's right, we aren't even supposed to be on kitchen duty today and…we didn't put it out so much as watch it get taken away…" Ezrayl offers these words before letting out a sigh and turning around to snag a piece of bread from one of the countertops nearby. She /might/ be making a small face as she does so and there may also be a tiny roll of the eyes, but when the guard turns around her expression is neutral. "Alright then, a little snack." Inside her head Ezrayl is definitely screaming bloody murder because she does /not/ want to taste their disaster again, but…there's not much of a choice now! Oh boy, they are SO SCREWED!!

"Well, I mean. It's not…" Of course, Aglaia can't even spit out the word 'bad' in relation to the concoction. She just chokes on the word and cradles the heel end of some crusty bread in her hands. "To be fair, though, they should have tasted it before taking it out there." That last is mostly for Ezrayl, a conspiratorial utterance that trickles away into silence. There's a stiff nod to Cassara at her proclamation, though there's a tinge of wariness there; it might be safe to assume she's not sure if she can -trust- the rider, but it's not as if either of them have a choice, is it? If one were to take a peek inside her head, though, all of her panic is a surface thing. Underneath? Cool and steady and well-braced for her inevitable demise at the hands of the stew. One can only hope such a death will be quick - but it won't be.

Cassara grabs a beer somewhere along the way. She needed something to wash away that foul taste. Who knows what she was going to bring Hika back tonight. She heads over to the pot of stew and turns to the two candidates with a big grin… Justice was to be served. "Come on girls. Give your work a try. I'm sure it's just as good as you remember."

"Talk about overkill…" Ezrayl's words are a quiet murmur to Aglaia as they follow Cassara outside, but the guard candidate doesn't shy away from the stew. She takes a bowl of it and glances up at the brownrider, "We really were just trying to fix things, isn't punishing us kind of harsh?" There's a tiny sigh but soon she's shoveling some of the stew into her mouth and trying her best to keep a straight face. It doesn't exactly work though. The guard manages /not/ to gag this time around, but her face is definitely turning red and there are drops of sweat running down her face before long. She'll try to wash away the taste as best she can with a bite of bread before taking another bite while standing there. SO GROSS! That's what Ezrayl's eyes are screaming. NASTY NASTY NASTY. But. She shall prevail! Maybe. Someone might end up throwing up after this.

There's a vague sound of assent from Aglaia, but then nothing; she's zeroed in on the stew-that-practically-isn't and waits until Ezrayl's dished up her bowl before getting one of her own. She cuts a sidelong look to the kitchens proper and then to the nearest exit, but there's no quick escape to be found in either place. While the other Candidate talks, she's silently contemplating her fate. And, at long last, she takes a heaping spoonful of the mostly -edible- muck, though that's not to say it has an agreeable flavor. At all. She chews just enough to get the whole mass swallowable and chokes it down, with a healthy bite of bread afterward. Sweat beads on her brow and her throat works vigorously against the entire affair, but she manages to get the whole first round down without incident. She gulps air desperately and that does little more than fan the flames of terribleness in her throat and mouth. Throwing up at this point? Probably a -terrible- idea considering how bad it is going down!

"… Overkill? Kinda harsh?" give gives almost a crazy laugh, a big grin on her face. She's clearly enjoying this now. "… Oh I didn't know your cooking was too harsh to be used as a punishment. I thought you were expecting innocent people like -me- to eat it." She watches both of them eat with a delighted look on her face. It was almost worth it. "… Oh? So how is it? As good as you remember? Did the bread help… Mmm, that doesn't look too good. Maybe you two want something to wash it down?" She holds out her beer for a moment before pulling it back. "Oh wait. You're -candidates- I almost forgot."

"Hey. We tried our best." Ezrayl glances up sharply at Cassara and scowls, "And we're taking our punishment, aren't we? It's not like we did it with any sort of malicious intent…" The guard candidate trails off, clearly implying something about Cassara's taunting with the beer and such. Whoo boy, Ez is just /asking/ for trouble now. HIDE! "And yes, the bread did help a little bit actually. Not that it'll fix everything." The red-haired candidate sucks in a deep breathe of air, closing her eyes as she does so. The action is quickly accompanied by another spoonful of stew that is shoved to the back of her throat and swallowed with as little chewing as possible.

Another healthy - relatively speaking - spoonful is shoveled into her mouth. Aglaia's expression settles into something utterly grim, despite the suffusion of color that claims her face and neck. "We were -trying- to fix a mistake we made," she manage to intone in a voice that's not far from a tattered croak. It's mostly to bolster Ezrayl's words and reaffirm that their intentions were pure, even if the result was far from it. "And it is much better than what it was," which is a paltry consolation, really. She sucks in a breath through her nose and holds it, only now remembering some of the tricks she'd learned for dealing with heat. Though, the offer of beer? That's met with a flat, "Milk is better to drink with something like this. Not beer. And I don't drink anyway, so I'm not sure why you think -that's- some kind of punishment." A third bite is just as quickly followed by a fourth, with the barest minimum of chewing involved. She's pouring sweat and her skin's a fine shade of red - but she's doing it.

Cassara a least seems amused at the twos belligerence. "Oh… are you implying that I'm, enjoying my self, Ez? Because I am." She grins. "I came here to catch a meal and grab a bowl to bring up for my weyrmate, but instead I got a mouthful of gross fire. I think this is only fair." she chuckles. "The correct thing to do would be to not put this out and… I don't know, maybe find someone who can actually cook?" she rolls her eyes. "Were you really doing your best, or were you just doing as much as you could to not feel guilty for fucking up? Come on, little bit more and you two are free to go." She sips her beer, trying not to laugh too much

"Sadist," Ezrayl wrinkles her nose at Cassara before shoving a few more mouthfuls of stew into her mouth. It burns her throat as it goes down, but the guard doesn't give up until it's landed in her stomach unceremoniously. "People do stupid things when they're afraid of getting punished." Which didn't really work out considering they were punished anyways, but at least this time Ez is admitting that this wasn't exactly the most brilliant idea they could have come up with! She shoves as much bread into her mouth as she can then, which manages to take away some of the mouth burning for all of three seconds. Visions of milk are floating in her head by the time Ezrayl swallows again, but she stubbornly refuses to look towards the kitchen. She /will/ glance to Aglaia to see how the other candidate is holding up though.

"I sincerely doubt you have any notion of guilt, else you would understand what we feel right now," Aglaia's words come from a cold place, despite the fact that everything else feels like it's burning up. "But, please. Satisfy yourself with the idea that we would deliberately attempt to make others suffer, even if that is not the case in the slightest; you seem quite keen on doing more than merely punish us and there is clearly nothing we can say or do to convince you otherwise." The words are flatly intoned, free of inflection, and without the weight of malice. She finishes her bowl, while half the bread remains uneaten; she's given up on it after the first. But, rather than leave it at that one emptied bowl, she takes a second - and this one is practically drunk from. She's going to be suffering pretty badly afterward, but it's all to make a point.

"Not the first to say that." She grins at Ez. "Say all you want, Aglaia, but you were the two that put that all out there. Think how many nights you two coulda ruined? Hell, you still probably did. Now there isn't any stew to eat." She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief as they defend themselves. "How is making people eat their own cooking too harsh? It really is the perfect punishment for the crime." She chuckles for a moment, appreciating their defensiveness. "… Alright, go find your selves some milk."

Ezrayl doesn't even have it in her to speak up anymore. That last bit of stew seems to have done her in and as soon as she's given leave the candidate is steadfastly making her getaway. Her movements are slow and deliberate, no matter how much she wants to make a mad dash for the milk. Control. Deep breathes. Oh Faranth, please don't puke. The only change in her pace will be to make sure that Aglaia's coming along too…and there's also a pause to see whether Cassara has got another of those sadistic smiles on her face. But after that? Milk. Lots and lots and lots of MILK. Lesson learned: don't try to cook again, Ez. It won't turn out well!

There is nothing more to say, although there's a marked shift in Aglaia's mood - and manner. Cassara's effectively dismissed; the Candidate's assessment is simply confirmed and that is enough. Her pace is slow and measured; calculated. The second bowl is half-finished by the time the permission is granted, but she doesn't hurry after it. She even dares to take the bowl with her while she falls into step alongside Ezrayl - but there is no backwards look to regard the rider. Instead, there's just a tightening of her jaw, subtle as it may be, as she heads directly toward where the milk is kept. A sidelong look is eventually angled toward her fellow Candidate, but it's a fleeting thing; there and gone in the blink of an eye.

There is nothing more to say, although there's a marked shift in Aglaia's mood - and manner. Cassara's effectively dismissed; the Candidate's assessment is simply confirmed and that is enough. The second bowl is half-finished by the time the permission is granted, but she doesn't hurry after it. Her pace is slow and measured; calculated. She even dares to take the bowl with her while she falls into step alongside Ezrayl - but there is no backwards look to regard the rider. Instead, there's just a tightening of her jaw, subtle as it may be, as she heads directly toward where the milk is kept. A sidelong look is eventually angled toward her fellow Candidate, but it's a fleeting thing; there and gone in the blink of an eye.

Cassara is of course grinning evily, eyes watching excitedly from behind her red tinted glasses. "You two are pretty tough…" she admits, still grinning. "I like that. Good to keep your heads held high." She moves the pot with her to get it out of harms way. She brings it into the Kitchen in the hopes of seeing the two make a mess of the milk together.

As soon as Ezrayl's through those kitchen doors, she's making a grab for the nearest bottle of milk. This means that she's actually snatching it out of the hand of a fellow candidate (one that did his work properly) and popping the top to guzzle it down. It's about half gone by the time she pauses to take a deep breathe and wipe the sweat from her forehead. "Fuuuuuuck, I thought I was going to die." The guard candidate rests a hand on her stomach as she breathes in, ignoring a little of the milk that's giving her a rather lovely mustache at the moment. Once the initial fire in her stomach is quenched Ez actually dares a tiny grin in Aglaia's direction. "How you holding u—" Wait. Is that Cassara? Did she follow them in? Cue a gradual return to calm and composed. She's totally disciplined and unshakeable. Totally.

Alas, there is no chaos to be had with the milk - at least not on Aglaia's end. Getting it from one of the servers would be more of a debacle if she didn't look half-dead; instead, she's given the small jug and is fairly quick to crack it open and take two good, long pulls. It's in the midst of the second that Ezrayl speaks, which makes it pretty hard for the dark-haired girl to, well, give a warning of some sort. After that second pull, she wipes at her face with the cloth and hisses out a low, slow breath through clenched teeth. "I will live," is intoned in a voice that's just as queerly flat as before. The bigger question might be 'for how long', but that's not one she's in any mood to address. Gauging by the nightmare bubbling in her stomach, it won't be long at all. Ultimately, she issues a bland-sounding, "Since our shift is over," the shift that shouldn't have existed, in retrospect, "I am going to go back to the barracks."

Cassara snickers as she watches Ez straighten up. These girls have some pride. She looks aroun the kitchen and grabs some bread and some meat and some other stuff. Gotta bring at least something up to eat. She chuckles at Aglaia. "Good Luck with that, kid." She gets her stuff together and walks past Ez, giving her a pat on the back. "You two did alright." She says, sincerely, as she walks out the door.

She peaks back in for a second. "Oh, and see you all around for physical training…" and then she actually zips out!

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