45th of Searing, 120
It had been several days since his run-in with the Thompson brothers, and he was healing well. All his scrapes had scabbed over nicely, and the bruising of his left eye was healing. Soon, he was sure he'd be able to open it fully again. A lot of his recovery was thanks to Barry, who took great care of the young Rath. On his breaks, he was allowed to eat some of the confectionaries from a few days ago. they'd gone stale and would have been thrown out otherwise. Arkash did not care. The sweet taste of glazed pastry was something he believed he'd never grow sick of. That didn't mean that he could slack, however. Work was still a strenuous, killer ache in his shoulders and back, but he found himself growing stronger as a result of his eating and exercise.
"Arkash," called the low, masculine voice of one of his coworkers, but he was mid-squat, trying to lift one of the bags of flour. "...Coming!" he called through the strain in his gut as he pressed into his legs. He had to keep his back straight, which was something barry stressed all too often when he first started the job. Breathing was also key in lifting, but the mask around his maw made it difficult to breathe. Well, that combined with the dry taste of flour that hung around the air. With enough push, he managed to lift the larger bag and held his breath hard. Veins and all sorts bulged in his neck at the strain. His head was going light, he had to move. The bag was incredibly heavy and threatened to pull his face to the ground if he let its weight control him for even a second. He didn't let that happen. Instead, he took very careful steps, about three of them to the doorway of the storeroom before the weight became too much, and he dropped.
Beyond the door's threshold was a comparatively small kitchen, but it was still almost twice the size of his house. Three doors connected the room. The one he was stood in, which was the storeroom. the one to the left wall of him, which led to the front desk and glass from which all the pastries were set on display. And the right, which was a door that led to the alleyway, and how he commonly entered his workplace. Along all of the walls were surface countertops that were dusted with flour and stray strips of pastry that had been left behind at various points during the shift. The only station that wasn't a mess yet was a series of furnaces, which weren't even burning yet. That was Arkash's favorite part of the shift, as the room grew nice and warm while the coals burned. The one that had called him was Maurice, a tall pencil of a human who'd somehow managed to develop mass on only one part of his body: His stomach. His back was to the storeroom, and he was stirring a large mixing bowl with a wooden ladle, using both of his arms to do so.
"ARKASH!" he called again with thinning patience, then ripped the ladle from the mixing bowl in a powerful turn that betrayed his furious anger. There, he saw the thin, bandaged lizard with a bag of flour sat at his feet. "Oh, you're right there," he spoke with a much calmer tone. Arkash still breathed heavily and deeply but nodded in assurance. "You carried that thing to the door?" he asked again, still caught in the headlights. Arkash nodded again. "Damn, you're packing on some muscle, buddy. Who knew eating stale donuts all night would get you built?" he asked in jest. Arkash glowered. Eating donuts was probably better than eating nothing at all. Probably.
When Arkash scowled, the human laughed light-heartedly. "Well, get that flour over here. The mix is starting to thin." Arkash doubted he needed that much flour, but making the journey once with that much of it would save him time later in the shift. His third nod followed, and he again lowered into a squat. With both claws on the massive bag of flour, he pressed both feet into the tiled ground and straightened his legs while his back stayed straight. For the second time, he managed to fully lift the massive bag of flour from the ground. Unlike the last time, however, he immediately started walking. His legs strained hard and his clawed toes spread out on the tiles as if they searched for grip, but found nothing. When it came to his bad foot, he had to pay extra attention to not twist it awkwardly due to the sprain in his ankle from the week prior. It was mostly healed and was still wrapped with supportive bandages, but he'd hate to suddenly ruin all the healing progress with a misstep.
"Wow, Arkash! You're a fuckin' beast!" Cheered Maurice. Arkash hissed beneath his mask as he waddled painfully closer to the human across the long kitchen. "You can do it! Just a bit further!" he cheered again. Arkash had to breathe, but the flour in the air made his throat dry, and the mask didn't allow him to breathe that much anyway. "Come on! Don't give up now!" For some reason, Maurice was living for that display, at least until barry flung the door of the serving station open, and frightened the lizard. The result was a dropped bag of flower, a dropped Rathari, and a rather uncertain Maurice, who immediately turned to continue mixing the pastry.
"Well what are ya waiting for ya string of piss?! Give the lad a hand!" Demanded the rounded human. "Uhh, yessir," replied the pencil human, who pranced over to the downed Rath and gripped the bag. Arkash held the other end through his exhausted stupor. When Maurice shifted, so did the shorter Rathari. Between the two of them, the bag wasn't so heavy, and he could manage the move with far greater ease. In just a few more steps, the pair were at the countertop, where they then hefted the beast of a bag onto the countertop. Arkash gripped the same counter while he caught his breath, hunched over with his other hand on his knee. "Good work, kid. Care for a chat?" offered the rounded human. Arkash nodded again but stayed hunched over while he caught his breath. "Straight'n up, boy. 'Opens yer lungs."
With that, Barry returned to the desk and let the door close behind him. Arkash did as he was told, and straightened up. He even lifted his head ceilingward, which pulled on a certain tightness in his neck and throat, likely due to his constant slouch. "What did you do?" Asked Maurice. Arkash shrugged. "Idunno," came a quick exhale. "I'll be back in a minute though..." Promised the reptile before he walked carefully to the door. Maurice resumed his stirring and added the necessary amount of flour to the mixture. Arkash wasn't a baker, he didn't know what the portions were when it came to baking a loaf or a pastry, that was Maurice's role. Arkash just helped out with the heavy lifting and the fetching of ingredients.
That did leave him to wonder, though. What did Barry want? Just to chat about nothing at all or was something wrong? Was his job on the line? It didn't feel like it from the way barry spoke to him, but it could have been a show for Maurice. Regardless, he couldn't back away from it; he had to face the round human.
A step into the customer's area revealed a mostly empty room; a rather short one that ended with a brick wall just a few feet from the counter. the far majority of the building was the kitchen, and they shared the same tiled flooring and cobbled stone walls. It was dark out, which was typical. They always prepared the pastries and loaves in the early hours of the day, as it took some time to bake up enough products to sell and to fetch the necessary fresh ingredients, too.
Arkash looked to the baker as the door closed behind him, then spoke a muffled "What's up, boss?" from under his muzzle. "Hey, Ark," spoke the larger of the two as he leaned over the counter to stare into the wall. "We're friends, right? Outside of th' whole boss/employee thing," Arkash nodded carefully as Barry looked to him again. Where was he going with this? "Well, kid, friends talk, right?"
"Right-."
"An' you've 'ad a pretty shitty week, right?"
"...Right-."
"Well, you 'aven't said shit all about it. Now you said shit's all good wif your dad, but... Who fucked you up like that?" barry turned to face the Rathari and motioned a hand up and down. He was referring to the bandages and the black eye. "I don't care that'cha took a few nights off, it's whatever, but... I might be able t' help ya." Arkash fell into silence and looked away from barry with a certain discomfort. barry couldn't help him, not unless he felt like offering spare a five-thousand dunari farthings. Telling him would just cause discomfort and unnecessary worry. He could handle it. After a hefty sigh, he parted his lips to speak. "Yeah, I told you it was one the hollows. It was out in the woods while I was doing some lumberin' an'-" barry shook his head and waved a hand. "Yeah I know, that's what you told Cojack too." With that, he turned to rest on the countertop, apparently disappointed. "...You spoke to my dad?"
Barry shrugged, as though it wasn't something to make a deal out of. "I mean yeah, thought I'd do a house call and 'ou weren't home." Arkash exhaled deeply and shook his head. "Don't gimme that look, 'e's worried about 'ou too. You've been quiet, aloof 'e said. Wanna talk about that?" Something about having his boss visit his home felt uncomfortable. For one, the place was... Not particularly easy on the eyes. For two, he valued his privacy. "I'm just a bit tired, that's all," he shrugged the question off with ease. "Cojack keeping you up?" Arkash nodded a lie. "Alright." barry sighed, then moved away from the countertop to place his hand on the Rath's shoulder. "Just take care of yourself, oh-" he spoke with wide eyes, as though a thought had just hit him. If Arkash could sweat, he would.
"Watch yourself comin' in for work, they says there's another killer on the loose." Arkash's one good eye widened in turn. Another killer? "They say 'e leaves 'is victims in pieces in alleys. Been a few 'its all over the place, no pattern, except it's at night, they say." Arkash's heart sank in his eyes. More like 'her victims'. He'd seen it first hand, one of the killings, the killer herself. The pale, cloaked woman with a red band tattooed to her head. He didn't know her name, but the look in her eyes, that cold hunger, he'd not forget it for some time. "Arkash?" Asked Barry, and snapped the boy from his daydream. Arkash blinked at him and took a deep breath. "You look like 'ou've seen a ghost, kid. Everythin' alright?" Arkash shook his head, paused, then nodded. "yeah, I'm fine. Just scary to think about, is all."
Barry nodded in turn, then turned with his hold still on the Rath's shoulder, which guided him to the kitchen door. "I know, kid. I know."
It had been several days since his run-in with the Thompson brothers, and he was healing well. All his scrapes had scabbed over nicely, and the bruising of his left eye was healing. Soon, he was sure he'd be able to open it fully again. A lot of his recovery was thanks to Barry, who took great care of the young Rath. On his breaks, he was allowed to eat some of the confectionaries from a few days ago. they'd gone stale and would have been thrown out otherwise. Arkash did not care. The sweet taste of glazed pastry was something he believed he'd never grow sick of. That didn't mean that he could slack, however. Work was still a strenuous, killer ache in his shoulders and back, but he found himself growing stronger as a result of his eating and exercise.
"Arkash," called the low, masculine voice of one of his coworkers, but he was mid-squat, trying to lift one of the bags of flour. "...Coming!" he called through the strain in his gut as he pressed into his legs. He had to keep his back straight, which was something barry stressed all too often when he first started the job. Breathing was also key in lifting, but the mask around his maw made it difficult to breathe. Well, that combined with the dry taste of flour that hung around the air. With enough push, he managed to lift the larger bag and held his breath hard. Veins and all sorts bulged in his neck at the strain. His head was going light, he had to move. The bag was incredibly heavy and threatened to pull his face to the ground if he let its weight control him for even a second. He didn't let that happen. Instead, he took very careful steps, about three of them to the doorway of the storeroom before the weight became too much, and he dropped.
Beyond the door's threshold was a comparatively small kitchen, but it was still almost twice the size of his house. Three doors connected the room. The one he was stood in, which was the storeroom. the one to the left wall of him, which led to the front desk and glass from which all the pastries were set on display. And the right, which was a door that led to the alleyway, and how he commonly entered his workplace. Along all of the walls were surface countertops that were dusted with flour and stray strips of pastry that had been left behind at various points during the shift. The only station that wasn't a mess yet was a series of furnaces, which weren't even burning yet. That was Arkash's favorite part of the shift, as the room grew nice and warm while the coals burned. The one that had called him was Maurice, a tall pencil of a human who'd somehow managed to develop mass on only one part of his body: His stomach. His back was to the storeroom, and he was stirring a large mixing bowl with a wooden ladle, using both of his arms to do so.
"ARKASH!" he called again with thinning patience, then ripped the ladle from the mixing bowl in a powerful turn that betrayed his furious anger. There, he saw the thin, bandaged lizard with a bag of flour sat at his feet. "Oh, you're right there," he spoke with a much calmer tone. Arkash still breathed heavily and deeply but nodded in assurance. "You carried that thing to the door?" he asked again, still caught in the headlights. Arkash nodded again. "Damn, you're packing on some muscle, buddy. Who knew eating stale donuts all night would get you built?" he asked in jest. Arkash glowered. Eating donuts was probably better than eating nothing at all. Probably.
When Arkash scowled, the human laughed light-heartedly. "Well, get that flour over here. The mix is starting to thin." Arkash doubted he needed that much flour, but making the journey once with that much of it would save him time later in the shift. His third nod followed, and he again lowered into a squat. With both claws on the massive bag of flour, he pressed both feet into the tiled ground and straightened his legs while his back stayed straight. For the second time, he managed to fully lift the massive bag of flour from the ground. Unlike the last time, however, he immediately started walking. His legs strained hard and his clawed toes spread out on the tiles as if they searched for grip, but found nothing. When it came to his bad foot, he had to pay extra attention to not twist it awkwardly due to the sprain in his ankle from the week prior. It was mostly healed and was still wrapped with supportive bandages, but he'd hate to suddenly ruin all the healing progress with a misstep.
"Wow, Arkash! You're a fuckin' beast!" Cheered Maurice. Arkash hissed beneath his mask as he waddled painfully closer to the human across the long kitchen. "You can do it! Just a bit further!" he cheered again. Arkash had to breathe, but the flour in the air made his throat dry, and the mask didn't allow him to breathe that much anyway. "Come on! Don't give up now!" For some reason, Maurice was living for that display, at least until barry flung the door of the serving station open, and frightened the lizard. The result was a dropped bag of flower, a dropped Rathari, and a rather uncertain Maurice, who immediately turned to continue mixing the pastry.
"Well what are ya waiting for ya string of piss?! Give the lad a hand!" Demanded the rounded human. "Uhh, yessir," replied the pencil human, who pranced over to the downed Rath and gripped the bag. Arkash held the other end through his exhausted stupor. When Maurice shifted, so did the shorter Rathari. Between the two of them, the bag wasn't so heavy, and he could manage the move with far greater ease. In just a few more steps, the pair were at the countertop, where they then hefted the beast of a bag onto the countertop. Arkash gripped the same counter while he caught his breath, hunched over with his other hand on his knee. "Good work, kid. Care for a chat?" offered the rounded human. Arkash nodded again but stayed hunched over while he caught his breath. "Straight'n up, boy. 'Opens yer lungs."
With that, Barry returned to the desk and let the door close behind him. Arkash did as he was told, and straightened up. He even lifted his head ceilingward, which pulled on a certain tightness in his neck and throat, likely due to his constant slouch. "What did you do?" Asked Maurice. Arkash shrugged. "Idunno," came a quick exhale. "I'll be back in a minute though..." Promised the reptile before he walked carefully to the door. Maurice resumed his stirring and added the necessary amount of flour to the mixture. Arkash wasn't a baker, he didn't know what the portions were when it came to baking a loaf or a pastry, that was Maurice's role. Arkash just helped out with the heavy lifting and the fetching of ingredients.
That did leave him to wonder, though. What did Barry want? Just to chat about nothing at all or was something wrong? Was his job on the line? It didn't feel like it from the way barry spoke to him, but it could have been a show for Maurice. Regardless, he couldn't back away from it; he had to face the round human.
A step into the customer's area revealed a mostly empty room; a rather short one that ended with a brick wall just a few feet from the counter. the far majority of the building was the kitchen, and they shared the same tiled flooring and cobbled stone walls. It was dark out, which was typical. They always prepared the pastries and loaves in the early hours of the day, as it took some time to bake up enough products to sell and to fetch the necessary fresh ingredients, too.
Arkash looked to the baker as the door closed behind him, then spoke a muffled "What's up, boss?" from under his muzzle. "Hey, Ark," spoke the larger of the two as he leaned over the counter to stare into the wall. "We're friends, right? Outside of th' whole boss/employee thing," Arkash nodded carefully as Barry looked to him again. Where was he going with this? "Well, kid, friends talk, right?"
"Right-."
"An' you've 'ad a pretty shitty week, right?"
"...Right-."
"Well, you 'aven't said shit all about it. Now you said shit's all good wif your dad, but... Who fucked you up like that?" barry turned to face the Rathari and motioned a hand up and down. He was referring to the bandages and the black eye. "I don't care that'cha took a few nights off, it's whatever, but... I might be able t' help ya." Arkash fell into silence and looked away from barry with a certain discomfort. barry couldn't help him, not unless he felt like offering spare a five-thousand dunari farthings. Telling him would just cause discomfort and unnecessary worry. He could handle it. After a hefty sigh, he parted his lips to speak. "Yeah, I told you it was one the hollows. It was out in the woods while I was doing some lumberin' an'-" barry shook his head and waved a hand. "Yeah I know, that's what you told Cojack too." With that, he turned to rest on the countertop, apparently disappointed. "...You spoke to my dad?"
Barry shrugged, as though it wasn't something to make a deal out of. "I mean yeah, thought I'd do a house call and 'ou weren't home." Arkash exhaled deeply and shook his head. "Don't gimme that look, 'e's worried about 'ou too. You've been quiet, aloof 'e said. Wanna talk about that?" Something about having his boss visit his home felt uncomfortable. For one, the place was... Not particularly easy on the eyes. For two, he valued his privacy. "I'm just a bit tired, that's all," he shrugged the question off with ease. "Cojack keeping you up?" Arkash nodded a lie. "Alright." barry sighed, then moved away from the countertop to place his hand on the Rath's shoulder. "Just take care of yourself, oh-" he spoke with wide eyes, as though a thought had just hit him. If Arkash could sweat, he would.
"Watch yourself comin' in for work, they says there's another killer on the loose." Arkash's one good eye widened in turn. Another killer? "They say 'e leaves 'is victims in pieces in alleys. Been a few 'its all over the place, no pattern, except it's at night, they say." Arkash's heart sank in his eyes. More like 'her victims'. He'd seen it first hand, one of the killings, the killer herself. The pale, cloaked woman with a red band tattooed to her head. He didn't know her name, but the look in her eyes, that cold hunger, he'd not forget it for some time. "Arkash?" Asked Barry, and snapped the boy from his daydream. Arkash blinked at him and took a deep breath. "You look like 'ou've seen a ghost, kid. Everythin' alright?" Arkash shook his head, paused, then nodded. "yeah, I'm fine. Just scary to think about, is all."
Barry nodded in turn, then turned with his hold still on the Rath's shoulder, which guided him to the kitchen door. "I know, kid. I know."
