Severingblade:

severingblade‌:

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Novus became rather alarmed by her voracious motions. He did not mind the barbaric table manners but the thought of a prickly fish bone accidentally going down her gullet was a different story. He minded every bite carefully until he upheld hand to signal pause to her, partially for his own sake … to no avail. She would not stop יִ יִ

Eventually his own meal escaped the periphery of his mind, tortured by each mouthful. By the time she finished, his left hand rested precariously over the side of his head, nearly slumped in his seat like he had just ridden on the back of a legiana careening towards fast approaching earth before sweeping up in the nick of time.

Once the lynian and the felynes had reprimanded Cornelia into submission, Novus turned back to his meal and spoke. Without looking to them. His words were not entirely for them.

﮴ Hunters are taught to eat before moving out to perform their duties. She is beginning to apply what she has learned. ﮴

A harsh grunt was elicited from the meowscular chef, who nodded firmly in approval with arms crossed over broad chest, eyeing down the felyne that accosted Cornelia until it returned to its post.

﮴ Now she is ready. Yes? ﮴

Cornelia let out a quiet puff of breath, leaning back a little despite the Felyne’s less than pleased glare to cool off after her metaphorical meal sprint, shoulders briefly jerking as another sharp hiccup caused her body to tense. The furred, disapproving cook shook their head, sighing and meowing softly to themselves like a disappointed parent.

“Mraww... What even is the use of eating like a starved Deviljho if you end up in more danger from choking on a piece of bone, rather than during the actual hunt...” Cornelia didn’t reply to the disapproving earful and tongue clicks, as usual, instead choosing to make her... pronounced lack of care for her table manners and eating speed known by rolling her eyes. Probably hard enough that it might as well have been audible.

She always scarfed down any food put in front of her at a speed that wasn’t exactly healthy, even when only reasonably hungry, sure, but it wasn’t like conditionned reflexes were easy to get rid of. No matter how much they’d lost their usefulness, especially... then. But she could admit that she still appreciated this particular Felyne’s concern. Casserole - that was her name, did babysit her enough for her to consider her having earned plenty of reasons for respect.

Casserole sighed, giving Cornelia a knowing side-glance before shuffling back to her post, avoiding to further test the master chef’s patience for slackers. Cornelia herself simply quietly waved her off, before turning back to Novus. She wasn’t hungry anymore, so as far as she was concerned, a conversation, no matter how one sided, seemed to be a nice way to kill time.

Though, she supposed that now that she had an actual TABLE to write on, she could try to be a bit... chattier. Turning around briefly, she started rummaging through the utility belt strapped around her waist, pulling out with a triumphant, muted “ah-HA!” a small charcoal pencil and a crumpled note, that she quickly smoothed down, blank face up. She then settled her elbows on the table, resting her chin onto the open palms of her hands, legs swinging idly as she stared very much intently at the older hunter, a tiny, expecting smile on her lips.

“Mhhh?”

fairburned started following you

Well, it’s not often Cornelia sees people close to her age. Everyone at the comission is either old enough to have applied for shipping to the New world, or... REALLY old. Wyvernian-esque old. Quickly, how DOES one greet a fellow teen?

...They do seem somewhat nice, despite her not knowing much about them. Cornelia’s pretty sure they won’t mind if she improvises something!

“...Pthbl?”

Apparently her improv ended up being “smiling and sticking her tongue out with a little inquisitive buzz”. It’s cute, if anything.

fairburned‌:

“thanks, kid,” mumbled offhandedly as the Rider follows behind the other girl. She’s small, Ciela notes, but scarred and tough-looking– kinda like Ci might appear should she be garbed in clothing that showed the many circular bitescars littering her forearms. Her guide is also full of energy; it’s no issue for Ci to keep up, but it does make trying to talk to her a little challenging.

She doesn’t know where she is, but she can’t shake the feeling it’s someplace she knows of– maybe from a Hunter she’d met somewhere before.

“yeah, i know it’s an odd question, and the why is equally unsatisfyin’, i’m sorry to say–”

The cry of a frightened wyvern from somewhere a ways away cuts her off. She freezes up, just for a moment, eyes wide.

“that’s him!” She’s gotta find her boy and fast.

“Mh-mh!”

Cornelia gave a small hum of aknowledgement as the stranger thanked her for her help - unfortunately, this was the most noise she was getting out of the small redhead for the time being. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to make more noise than that, but she often found communicating at lenght with strangers... difficult. She couldn’t quite place how it came to be, but it simply was, and she’d learned to deal with it.

She turned around briefly to look once more at the stranger girl, shooting her a small grin and pointing to the far right of the port. Not too far from the botanical research center, crowned by a massive tree, a wide, winding staircase rested against the cliff, leading to the higher levels of Astera. She could have taken the crude elevator of sorts, not much more than poles moving along a chain, chugging upwards with the motion of the wheels that the large waterfall pulled along its wake, buuut... They were a bit tricky to get around for newcomers.

Instead, she started hopping up the staircase... and almost slipped when a distant, frightened call reached her ears. Rathalos, if she had to guess. Cornelia froze, whipping around on flexed knees, suddenly very much alert, checking the stranger’s expression for answers. Turned out, she hadn’t lost her rathalos by much, given the proximity of the sound.

“MRFFF!” A muffled grunt was all she shot back to the scared hunter, as good a follow me as any, as she whipped around and booked it upstairs, rushing in the OPPOSITE direction to a few frightened researchers, notes under their elbow and a few sauce stains around their mouth. Seemed they’d been interrupted mid-lunch.

The little hunter-to-be nearly sprang forth from the stairway and onto the canteen floor, stance wide, and ready for anything, not waiting much for the hunter-to-be that she knew, had probably followed.

fifthfleetproven‌:

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It was about then that he began to wonder if Cornelia lacked the ability to speak. At the very least, the youth could listen. As she began her attempt to gesticulate a concept to him, Novus angled his head attentively. His eyes moved from article to article, from grimace to finger on chin. Then to finger on armor, which eventually led him to expand his attention out to the rest of her outfit. Didn’t take him long to note the simplicity of it and the settling of his expression indicated that he might have reached an understanding.

An approving smile tugged at the right corner of his lip. A soft nod followed and he could be seen preparing to speak. The words, however, only welled up in his chest before being restrained. Next, he took a breath and shifted his weight onto his other foot, peering into her youthful expression. He had chased after countless mysteries as a hunter. Discovered truths that belonged in fables, yet the potential that comes with blooming youth still filled him with anticipation. What might she discover after his own time has passed?

“You are to be a hunter. Then if you will grant me the audience, I have a concept that may consume you in hours of introspection. You may have already discovered it but I wish to tell you for certain.” Because you remind me of family. “If you would listen.”  

As in all professions, there were those who looked upon the role of hunter as a career and others who looked at it as so much more. Novus was very firmly the latter and there were few like him. Inevitably, she would begin to see it as well. See hunters who lived as hunters and hunters who worked as hunters. One day she would find herself tilting in one direction or the other and then she would start to apply that understanding to her closest friends, identify which was which. It could make her feel alone. It could fill her with arrogance. It could resolve her.

“Never use materials that you haven’t earned. That is a hunter’s pride.”

A hunter should understand what he meant by that, even an apprentice. One day she would slay her first wyvern and earn the right to wield weapons made from its bones, wear armor made from its scales, receive gifts bearing its fangs … but never before the hunt is complete.

For a few moments, he watched her closely, looking to see if whether she had just been told about a philosophy she was born with an understanding of or if she had been given something new to contemplate. Regardless of the outcome, he quickly digressed, hoping not to come off as intrusive on her development as a hunter. Given the history of his squad, many may hope she regards him as transient wind. 

“Oh,” he remembered, “My name is Novus.” Turning his gaze skyward and to his left, he continued, “The fresher ingredients will not last long at the canteen. Shall we?” 

The young one smiled in return as the other considered her apprenticeship, and gave it his quiet sceal of approval. It probably was funny to see a young one taking the same path as him. He caught himself before he could comment on it, and Cornelia felt herself press her lips together. She wished she could squeeze out a question on what in the world was swimming in the hunter’s mind, but... well, the fault wasn’t exactly on her not trying to. The young apprentice had never quite figured out how to get her tongue and jaw to cooperate with her wishes at all times.

It wasn’t that she was incapable of speech, far from it. But... time and time again, amongst strangers, words found themselves trapped in her chest, squirming like snakes in a basket, unable to fly free. The best she could summon were grunts, whistles, whines and every sort of inarticulate wail that could be produced by a human voice. And then some. It was... frustrating.

Especially when her interlocutor would weave a rather flowery verbal tapestry. That much flourish in a hunter’s vocabulary was... okay, not THAT uncommon. Cornelia had heard fleeting tales of hunters amassing such fortunes that families dealing with the craft for several generations would gain some... aristocratic qualities, to say the least. A lot of useless fluff, if Cornelia was to be honest. She shot the stranger an odd look, as if questionning the delivery of his nugget of wisdom, before letting her traits relax, as she nodded.

The delivery was perhaps odd, but the content was worth minding. She shot a small look at herself, at the hunting knife strapped to her back, before returning her attention to the stranger, giving a quiet hum of understanding and an appreciative smile. To earn your place in the world, to struggle, to call things your own from sheer effort... Every creature, from the high and mighty wyverns that flew the skies, to the bugs crawling in the soil, had to go through that struggle. It was just how things were. A good piece of advice, really.

The greeting was met with the small apprentice fishing into her collar, pulling out a small iron tag, onto which was engraved her name, holding it up so Novus could read it properly... until he made the comment that fresh food wouldn’t wait forever. That much decided her quickly to nod, grin, and shuffle ahead, knowing the way to the canteen... but, finding herself squirming a little as she had to navigate the crowd to get there.

fairburned‌:

Okay, weapons were being grabbed, and there’s a chance they have access to bowguns out here, so… yeah, the gate’s the best option. She leaps into action; with fluid motions, she hops up to the– saddle??– upon Ratha’s back and swings her leg over it, setting herself atop her steed with ease. With a nudge to his sides and a command of “ratha, up!”, the Rathalos spreads his wings and takes off with only a smidge of a start.

Now there’s something you don’t see every day.

After a few quick circles above the canteen to judge the wind currents, Rider and Monster land on the other side of the gate, sending a small puff of dirt up at the creature’s talons. Ciela pats his head again, and Ratha puffs his chest out with pride.

“thanks. we’re not out of the woods yet, but it’s a start.” Beat. “the name’s ciela. as you can see, m’ a rider.”

Upon hearing the rustle of leathery wings, Cornelia did shoot a glance over her shoulder, blinking slowly as she was met with the sight of the stranger actively settled on top of the rathalos, flying up with the juvenile - up, up, and... around the gate, to land right next to her, kicking up a cloud of dust. All the while, the young hunter’s gaze does not leave the Rathalos and his rider, wide copper eyes staring at the scene in silent, stunned curiosity.

Eventually, presentations are made and she smiles, and the smile turns quickly into the biggest grin she can muster. She doesn’t need to tell the rider, but, this is all quite exciting to her. Seemed those sea shanties, those rumors, about monster and human living in a sort of peaceful agreement, weren’t just wind in the sails. No other deduction to pull from the sight, that much was certain.

She doesn’t answer beyond a mild, excited squee, and a little wiggle during which she can’t help but tap her feet on the ground. Cornelia has other ways to introduce herself. Namely, by pulling from the neck of her leather shirt a small, flat iron square, into which was hammered her name. A pleasant alternative to people never knowing what to call her.

C-O-R-N-E-L-I-A

That’s about when the stomping of a small crowd of disturbed hunters, and curious scholars, reaches her ears. Upon which, Cornelia swiftly decide to give a mild grunt, and then promptly leg it as fast as she can muster, along the coast and towards the forest. She knows just how far they’ll be chased. And where they’ll be safe.

fifthfleetproven‌:

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The brief period of confusion that took hold of Cornelia’s expression worried him. Thoughts flashed immediately through his head, wondering if he had come off in some unintended way. For now, he was unable to secure a moment to explain himself before lowering his head to peer into her name tag. Again, a smile traced his lips, followed by a nod. By now, he was certain that she couldn’t speak, or wouldn’t. There weren’t enough clues in hand to know exactly what her story was. One day.

Watching her hurry for the canteen, he turned and began to follow, struggling to squeeze through the same pathways. She eventually lost him in the sea of people but in the end, their destinations were one in the same. Upon arriving at the canteen, stepping off the chain escalator, he laid eyes on her again and made his way, lifting his hand to greet. Seasoned meat cooked and when platters were revealed, the appetizing scents emanated towards them in waves. Even Novus felt a growing hunger.

After taking a seat, he turned his attention to the young one and held one hand out to stop her from using her voucher. How would it have looked if he partook freely from the meal he had given to her as compensation for the lost pear? Reaching into a pouch, he procured another and handed it over before ordering. She was free to follow suit, a vault of dishes awaiting her favor.

For him, it was all meats. Different dishes of aptonoth and apceros. A plate of steak still sizzling in a bed of vegetable sauce greeted him surrounded with red and yellow peppers and touched lightly with ground kut-ku beans for a bit of spiciness. A bowl of cheesy apceros casserole sat in gooey anticipation and a basket filled with ground beef and cudgel onion braided in a crispy golden layer of bread followed close behind. Today, he was in no rush to head out on an expedition or hunt so when his hands extended, it was calmly.

Spending another moment glancing into Cornelia’s face at a angle as she ate, again reminded of his friend, he spoke, “I wanted to apologize if I came off the wrong way earlier about my advice. I didn’t mean to say you haven’t earned your gear. I meant after you’ve completed your first hunt.”

When the thought that it might not be her way to think as he did crossed his mind, only peace seized his features, rather than displeasure.

“But truthfully, every hunter may make their own way. I certainly didn’t take all the advice I was given. Perhaps your way would reject mine and that is something admirable as well. To forge your own code. I do believe, however, that pride tempers anything we choose to spend our lives endeavoring upon.”

Having a... thing or two to take care of, anyways, Cornelia didn’t mind much that she promptly lost the hunter in the crowd, which most rudely spat her out at the bottom of the large, winding stairway that lead to the upper levels of Astera. The outpost wasn’t big, and unless you went out of your way to visit the facilities that weren’t settled for hunters, your chances of getting lost were slim. So, she figured, she’d find him again eventually.

Plus, t’wasn’t like they weren’t headed for the same destination. The young apprentice practically shot up the stairs, bounding happily along the way before coming to a stop at the canteen. The signal that the message regarding the provisions had been sent was quickly conveyed by a wave of the hand towards one of the felyne cooks, who waved back promptly. Novus was, expectedly, not too long after found stepping off the faster elevator.

Cornelia waved right back, somewhat unphased by the delicious smells wafting about, much unlike Novus. Blame running errands for the kitchen, eventually, your nose was bound to grow accustomed to the smell of cooking food. But, there was a bit of a grumble as she remembered her half-eaten snack. The sugar buzz from the fruit hadn’t really done much to give her energy reserves any replenishing. Cornelia perched herself on a seat at one of the tables surrounding the canteen, bringing a knee to her chest, not seemingly caring much this could have been interpreted as poor table manners.

She let him order first, fishing out of her pocket the ticket that she promptly handed to the felyne taking their orders, rocking slightly on her seat as she tried to think of something to eat, and how to pantomine it properly. Admittedly, her imitation of a fish was probably rather funny to look at, though it did get a few raised eyebrows from the felyne that was jutting their orders down.

There honestly wasn’t as much flourish in her plate as in Novus’, but the grilled sushifish she had managed to order, with steamed veggies to the side, was plenty to her liking. Blame hanging out with felynes too much, their tastes were rubbing off of her. She might not have been that hungry, but she scarfed down the fish with much less peace and calm than her interlocutor, eating fast and only leaving sparce crumbs of meat hanging off the otherwise well cleaned fish bones. Not really out of hunger, more out of a sense of... urgency of sorts, pausing in her wolfing down to nod quietly every few words she found truthful.

She might not have been able to respond to his words, but listen she did. Until the shrill voice of one of the kitchen’s furry cooks reached her ears, causing her to grumble. “Young missy, did you deliver the message, or did you just sit down to have a snack?”

Cornelia raised empty hands, pouting a little at the nagging of the Felyne cook, only to sink a little onto her seat as the apron-wearing, bandana-bearing lynian came trotting over to eye her plate with a disapproving look. “Did you just wolf that down?” The young girl tried to shake her head no, but...

Hiccup!