Food from Anneka

[hazlogs]

It is currently 10:26 Pacific Time on Sun Jul 29 2001.
Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous

Malachi is awake, but not very much so. The boy lies against the wall farthest 
  from the stairs, sprawled across a wrinkled blanket and staring blankly at 
  the ceiling.

Someone's humming upstairs, almost singing as she fumbles about with the 
  basement door, keys a-clatter, louder when the door swings open, then shuts 
  behind her with a thump. It's Anneka with a brown paper bag, thick with the 
  scent of Chinese food. She's grinning, her hair a wild, curly tangle about 
  her befreckled face-- She's got a good voice, too. Clear and even. "Hello? 
  Anyone 'bout?"

Malachi sniffs once, then levers himself up to a sitting position with a 
  grunt. "Yeah." He takes off his glasses for a moment to rub at his eyes; 
  dark circles are starting to form under them.

Anneka cradles the bag in one arm, jiggles the doorknob behind her to make 
  sure it's locked, then clonks her way down the stairs. "I've got some food 
  'n stuff, if you're hungry." She's got a green windbreaker on-- scuffed and 
  battered and a bit of her elbow is visible through a torn-up hole. "Prob'ly 
  not th'best mornin' food, but there's a lot."

Malachi puts his glasses back on and regards Anneka sullenly for a moment 
  before saying, "Yeah, okay." He gets to his feet, pushing his hands into his 
  pockets as he slouches over.

Anneka is just about five feet tall, a skinny creature with curly, sandy hair 
  that bobs about in a tangled mane more often than it does not. Her face is 
  slightly rounded, her eyes large and green over a splash of freckles and a 
  small nose. She's in her early teens or thereabouts, her voice high and 
  clear. She's got a t-shirt on, black and oversized with a white star on the 
  front, and big, baggy jeans that almost hide scuffed, blocky shoes beneath 
  their frayed cuffs. Your usual sort of urchin-- unremarkable save for the 
  rage that rushes beneath her pale skin, for the way she sometimes looks like 
  she's just holding on to the wolf she is.
Anneka's humming again as she fishes about in the 'fridge, grins when she 
  finds a half-bottle of soda. That gets set down next to the bag, on a 
  clattery table, before she starts to tug white boxes and cups from brown 
  paper. Soup, noodles, that sort of thing. "It's from th'Tin Yen. Not t'bad, 
  'neither, 'cause y'can get a lot an' it's pretty good, too."

Malachi grabs one of the chairs near the table and slouches into it, making no 
  effort to help Anneka with table-setting. "My mom gets food there 
  sometimes," he remarks dully.

A few boxes, noodles and rice, and a big cup of egg drop soup remain in front 
  of Malachi, unopened for his lack of motility. Anneka tugs open her own 
  box-- egg noodles with sharp-scented peanut sauce and cucumber slices and 
  starts attacking it with a pair of chopsticks. She has the looks of someone 
  who has been up a while, and there's dirt and grit under her fingernails.

Malachi grimaces faintly and sits up, grubby fingers digging at the box flaps. 
  He glances around the table as he does so. "Where's my fork?"

Anneka furrows her brow. "Fork." She looks around, then peers into the bag. 
  "Oops." She tilts the bag over and a handful of forks and spoons slide out 
  onto the table. Some napkins, too. "I keep forgettin' that lotsa 'roo 
  folk're from 'round here. I'm not-- Tacoma, for me."

Malachi grabs a fork and starts attacking his share of the chinese food, 
  pausing only to pick out bits that don't look easily identifiable and 
  dumping them on a napkin. "Mmf," he says, though a full mouth. "Yeah, I was 
  born here."

"Hey, cool." The girl's eyes brighten. "I've been lookin' for th'best place 
  t'see th'city from. 'Course, that means a lotta explorin' first." She holds 
  out a hand, waggles pale and dirty fingers. "An' a lotta crawlin' 'round on 
  roofs."

Malachi wrinkles his nose. "City sucks," he states bluntly, picking something 
  dark green and vegetable-y from his noodles. He flicks it onto the napkin, 
  where it joins a small but growing pile of discarded 'ick' food.

"They can be pretty bad, sometime," Anneka says. "An' sometimes worth savin'." 
  She glances at the pile of discarded food while she munches on a huge 
  mouthful of noodles.

Malachi keeps his eyes focussed on his food. "Blow it all up, that'll fuckin' 
  save it," he replies in a low tone, just audible. He stabs into his noodles, 
  savagely.

Anneka is an odd creature. The cub's simmering anger flows around her over 
  her, doesn't ever quite seem to touch her. She munches on her noodles for a 
  bit, then reaches for the soda. "When I'm mad I go swimmin' a lot. D'no what 
  works for you, but it's th'important thing. First part of learnin' how to 
  work with what'cha are is knowin' how to hold on to it."

That little remark gives Malachi pause. He looks up at her, squinting. "Huh?"

Anneka points a chopstick at the boy. "You look real angry 'bout somethin', 'n 
  that's okay-- 'cause we all are. 's part of what we are, th'rage. An' it's 
  part of what we are t'know how t'control it."

Malachi scowls and looks down to irritably poke at his food. His portion's 
  barely half-finished, and the soup isn't even touched, but already his 
  appetite seems to have vanished. "I'm not tryin' t'fuckin' kill nobody, am 
  I?"

Anneka draws one noodle out of the box, comically long, and regards it with a 
  certain curiosity. "Nope. An' that's cool." She stuffs the end of the noodle 
  in her mouth and starts slurping at it.

Malachi jabs at the food a few more times, then pushes it away with an abrupt 
  motion and gets up, stalking away with hands in pockets.

Anneka wriggles her way out of her coat, lets it flop back on the seat behind 
  her with a clunk, and pokes away at her noodles. "It's my moon right now," 
  the girl says, amiably. "Though it's not quite th'nature of mine t'be real 
  /mad/ on it. That's for when th'moon's full, an' it gets us all chompin' an' 
  snappin' at stuff."

"Yeah, yeah..." Malachi prowls along the edge of the room, regularly slapping 
  his palm hard into the wall. "Full moon... oss-pisses an' shit."

Anneka nods, her mouth full of noodles. "Mm-hm." She glances at Malachi now 
  and then, though her attention seems bent more on finishing her lunch. "I'm 
  a Philodox. That's th'half moon." She blinks twice and fishes a battered 
  wristwatch out of a pocket-- Half the strap is missing. "Uh-oh."

Malachi turns around, peering toward Anneka. "What?"

Anneka clears out the rest of the noodles, then eyes the food on the table. 
  The soup, untouched, goes back into the bag along with the rest of the 
  unopened boxes. She certainly bought more than two people would need. "Gotta 
  go an' check somethin'." She tugs her coat on, grins at Malachi. "Project-- 
  th'stuff I was mentionin' b'fore, 'bout lookin' for th'best place to see 
  th'city from."

Malachi grunts. "Oh." He stuffs his hands into his pockets. "See ya, then, I 
  guess."

That gets a big smile from Anneka. "Yup. I'll be back later, sometime." She 
  furrows her brow and counts off items on her fingers. The abrupt intensity 
  of her gaze suggests the ritual of doing so is important. "It's lunchtime, 
  so if I can barge 'round I can get some money from doin' skate stuff, then 
  maybe pick up some cans, an' then-- project. So, I'll be back pretty soon." 
  She starts to clomp her way up the stairs, then pauses and looks back. 
  "Anythin' y'need? I can get pizza or somethin'."

Malachi just shakes his head. "M'fine," he mutters, even if he isn't.

Anneka nods, reaches up to brush curly hair away from her eyes. "Okay." She 
  glances about at the basement. "Bein' stuck inside's yucky, but it won't 
  last too long. Happened t'me, after my firstin'." She grins. "Borin'." She 
  clomps the rest of the way up the stairs and opens the door. "Back soon!" 
  She slips the door open far enough to let herself through, shuts it behind 
  her. Keys jangle about, and then the cub's gone.

Anneka vanishes up the stairwell to the sanctuary.