thirty-nine bites (Czarina/ anyone else)

[Anonymous]

Hunger presented Clytemnestra Vix with a problem. She was quite hungry, but she also found herself in the middle of studying chemical brain function, a task which she felt obligated to finish. Her need to perform well as a candidate almost overrode her need to eat, but as her stomach flipped over and the emptiness of it sunk her insides into a rather unfortunate state, Clytemnestra realized she would not be able to perform in her written assignment without first eating. The hungrier she got, the more distracted and unable to work she became, as her focus flipped from practical thoughts to her need for sustenance, and so if she truly wished to finish her work, she figured she must eat. The girl stood, pushing her chair into her desk, carefully nudging the heavy chair with her foot so that it slide under her desk at a perfectly straight angle, and Clytemnestra powered down the notepad on which she had been reading and taking notes, before returning it to its position in the exact middle of her desk. Clytemnestra was a naturally neat person, but the stress the candidacy program placed on cleanliness encouraged her habits to an almost obsessive level. She was praised when her things were neat and straight, and punished when she allowed messiness and chaos to enter her life. Clytemnestra hated messiness.

The girl slipped on her short, gray jacket and exited through the door to her shared room. The monotonous nature of the candidate’s uniform often frustrated the girl. She was not a creature who enjoyed color; quite contrarily, in fact; brown clothing composed most of her wardrobe, but she found the gray color made her skin appear lusterless and dull. It was already a dull color, a tan color, but a darker color lacking the golden glow most skin her shade possessed, and the gray uniform did nothing to improve her appearance. Clytemnestra understood most people had the same issue, as the uniforms were not very attractive, but it was unfortunate nevertheless. As it was mid-afternoon, the girl had worked through lunch, only a few other people sat in the dining room.  Clytemnestra scanned the room with her unusually golden eyes, which currently, due to bright lights, appeared rather dark, but she saw no one she knew well. With a small, deflating sigh, the girl picked up a tray and wiggled into the lunch line.

The food was as unpleasant as usual, but Clytemnestra’s hunger eclipsed her initial repulsion to the food. She would eat it because she was hungry, and at this point, it did not matter what she consumed. Clytemnestra moved to an empty area of seats, pulled on chair out, and gracefully took a seat in it. She moved incredibly well, which was an aspect of her she knew resulted from her father’s genetic tinkering. It might be fair to say the girl possessed the grace of a cat, because she might actually share a kinship with the other animal on a genetic level. Her grace was animalistic in its perfection, both literally and figuratively. With a small movement, Clytemnestra picked up a fork and began to take dainty bites. She was famished, but she believed in eating slowly, as it both increased her metabolism and presented and pleasant and lady-like method of dining. Her father insisted she constantly act with the grace and etiquette a woman should possess, and whatever Henry VIx requested of his daughter, Clytemnestra internalized. As she ate, a slip of her straight brown hair fell from its position in the messy bun on her head, and into her face, where it dangled for a second before she returned it behind one of her ears. She muttered slightly in annoyance at the discretion of her hair, and her eyes once again darted around the room. Would anyone know if she ate faster, if she disregarded her polite eating and ate with an intensity which expressed the hunger she felt? The movement of her fork increased pace, as Clytemnestra continued to eat.

((So, I am not happy with this, but at least it was prompt...And being new, I was not sure of some details, so I either made assumptions or left stuff out. If anything I assumed does not fit the setting, tell me, and I will change it.))

[Anonymous]

Finaa was beat. Her stress level was wearing her out. Everything seemed to be going wrong. Alesku never seemed happy with her and she was terrified she wouldn't ever pass, her love life was a strange mess and she wasn't sure she could even stand to look at another book right now.

"Uhh! I'm so stressed I can't even eat!" Finaa only had about a normal person's worth of food in front of her, picking apart her bread and nibbling on the smaller pieces, "I don't know why I bother. It never seems to help."

Even with her shape shifting abilities, the girl looked tired. She hated studying, but she was hitting the books hard. And on top of her normal studies, she was trying to study up on all the science stuff Alesku rattled off at her. None of it really made sense to her and it was hard for her to apply it to her shifting. That was all intuitive and instinctual. Trying to think about it scientific terms gave her splitting headaches and bad results.

But none of that mattered right then. She had her Shiloh time and that was awesome. Beaming at him, Finaa rubbed her foot against his under the table, "I've missed you. It feels like forever since you were here. Now that you are a big bad Pilot, you too good for me." Finaa then smirked, "Give me some good gossip. You gotten into any of the Pilots pants yet?"

Her attention was distracted when an odd, rather unfortunate looking girl sat nearby. There was just something odd about her movements that interested Finaa. She didn't move quite right.

A glimpse of her eyes was enough to get Finaa's curiosity up enough to lean over slight and beamed at the girl. She was the same stage as Finaa was, but Finaa couldn't recall anything about her, "Hi!"

She paused then, realizing she wasn't sure what to say next. Just asking her 'Why do you move weird?' seemed rude. But Finaa hadn't really thought about what to say next, "Uh...I'm Finaa."

[Rhi-Rhi]

Thankfully, before Shiloh could report that no, no he hadn't scored with any of the Pilots yet because they were a bunch of psychopathic assholes and getting interrogated for a crime he hadn't committed kind of dampened his libido, Finaa was distracted. Good thing, too, because he didn't want to go into all that crap. He followed her gaze over to a Stage 3 and then looked right back at Finaa as she introduced herself. Okay?

That was random.

But then again, Finaa was a girl and much as he loved her, Shiloh couldn't begin to understand the female brain.

Unlike Finaa's friendly introduction, Shiloh only looked at the other girl--the same flat, grumpy look he gave anyone that wasn't Finaa or Rhys, a measuring up-and-down look like he was judging her. Which he was. It tended to have a better effect on candidates now that he was a Pilot, and even though he wasn't currently in uniform most candidates were able to spot him for what he was. Mainly because he was a fresh graduate, anyway, and hung around here enough to be familiar to most; some of the older candidates might even remember him for being a bully when he was younger. But also because he could go around in street clothes whenever he liked, unlike the candidates that were confined to their uniforms save on special days.

He wasn't too familiar with the girl. Might have seen her around here and there, but Shiloh always had kept mostly to himself. Right now, he couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy as Finaa turned her attention to the other candidate. He wasn't normally the jealous type, but he hadn't seen Finaa in ages, this was their time and now her attention was off of him.

Stupid, irrational maybe, but still there.

He rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat with a small grunt. Oh well. She was a girl. Let her have her girl bonding moment.

"Yeah, yeah, missed ya too," he muttered under his breath, not bitter in the least!

[Anonymous]

Clytemnestra never imagined being approached. She had planned to eat her food in peace, by herself, and so the intrusion shocked her momentarily. At first, she was not sure the introduction was aimed towards her, so Clytemnestra slowly turned her head slowly to face the girl, with her eyes wide and glossy. When Clytemnestra realized the statement was indeed towards her, she struggled to react. She was not sure she knew the girl, but the given name was almost familiar, as if she had heard it from the lips of other candidates or from pilot instructors. The pause was only a second, a few of Clytemnestra’s heartbeats. Finally, Clytemnestra decided that she needed to do something, because if she did not act, she would make a fool of herself, and worse, she would seem rather rude and inappropriate. Clytemnestra turned the whole way, so that she was facing the other girl, and turned her lips into a stiff smile.

It was at that moment, that Clytemnestra saw the other girl’s companion fully. He was dressed in plain clothes, which meant he could not be a candidate. Candidates had to wear their ugly uniforms at all times, which was why Clytemnestra currently donned her own gray uniform. She swore the pilots tried to make the uniforms as ugly as possible; maybe someone high up in the system believed that the horrible gray monstrosities would prevent sexual attraction, or maybe someone just enjoyed seeing teenagers dressed in the most unflattering way possible, but the uniforms looked good on few people. Not to wear them—that was a privilege, and it was a privilege pilots gained and often used. Clytemnestra was positive the grumpy looking boy was a pilot, and the thought made her nervous. She had never eaten lunch around a pilot that was not her mentor or teacher. She hardly interacted with real pilots. What should she say to him? How polite and submissive should she be? Instead of dealing with the pilot issue, Clytemnestra realized she had to respond to the girl first, because there was no way her shaky, uncomfortable smile was going to please the girl for too long.
“I’m Clytemnestra Vix, stage three candidate.”
Clytemnestra responded. She attempted to make her voice sound as casual as possible. The result was that it sounded stern and rather uninflected.

Clytemnestra turned back to her food so she could take a few more bites. She did not want to take too many bites, or to focus on her food for too long a period of time, because then she might appear too uninterested in the couple before her or at least rude and standoffish. She knew she had a tendency to be a bit standoffish, and she wanted to avoid the feeling. The boy was a pilot, after all, and Clytemnestra wanted to impress as many pilots as possible.
“But, I mean, you can call me whatever you like.”
Clytemnestra explained. She shrugged her shoulders, and turned to eye the couple again. They were an interesting pair, Clytemnestra noted. The girl seemed so bright eyed and curious, while the boy seethed with unpleasant grumpiness. She hoped she had not already ruined her chance to impress him. She probably already had.

[Anonymous]

The girls odd reaction startled her. The girl was very stiff and seemed almost confused by Finaa's introduction. Though, to be fair to the girl, it was a little odd for Finaa to just start talking to her. But Finaa was curious about the girl, about the things that were just a little off. It intrigued her shapeshifting brain.

Blinking at the very formal name giving, Finaa gave an awkward smile, "Oh...uh yes. I'm Stage 3 too. Cool, huh?" Crap, maybe this had been a bad idea. Shiloh's grumbling had Finaa shifting to frown at him, "Shiloh! Don't be an ass!"

Finaa's foot slid under the table and pressed up against Shiloh's leg, rubbing it slightly, "You know I missed you. Now stop glaring or you are going to scare her. Really. Would it kill you to not be an ass? I'm not asking you to actually be nice or anything."

She adored that man, but sometimes Finaa wanted to throttle him. He was so defensive and prickly. Though at the same time, it made Finaa feel protective. She wanted to keep him safe from all the bad things that had caused him to react that way.

Turning her attention back to the girl, Finaa gave her another smile, "I was just wondering what race you are. You move interestingly."

[Rhi-Rhi]

Shiloh, who had been zoning out (albeit sulkily) jerked upright and threw up his hands. "What? I didn't do nothin'," he exclaimed, looking from her to the candidate and back again. What'd he do? He was letting them talk, weren't interrupting or nothing, and now he was an ass? Oh, it was because he was glaring? He didn't even know he was. Goddamn.

He smoothed his face out as much as he could and nudged her leg back. At least she knew how to soften the blow. Finaa had to be the only person in the world who could call him an ass and have it bother him. Anyone else and he couldn't give two shits because chances were he was trying to be an ass and didn't like them anyway. Well, aside from Rhys. But if he called him an ass it was more like a compliment. "I weren't glarin', neither."

But he'd been told, now, called out on his behavior, so he decided he might as well make an effort. Right. Candidate. He probably was freaking her out because she sure was acting reserved. It had taken Shiloh forever to start feeling comfortable around Pilots back when he was a candidate. The discomfort hadn't entirely gone away; he still sometimes felt out of place--even if he'd damned well earned his way there and fought his way through the program, determined to pass.

He leaned his elbows on the table, waggled his fingers at the girl and, for Finaa's sake, managed to produce a lopsided smile. "Yo." Social skills had never been his strength, but then again here Finaa was asking point blank why she moved the way she did and what her race was and he arched an eyebrow at his friend.

"Looks human t' me. Jus' scared, yeah?" He directed the last bit to Cee, looking back at her. Finaa may have thought the girl moved 'interestingly'. To Shiloh it just looked awkward and overly cautious. "Ya don't gotta be all uptight. I ain't here to beat up candidates or nothin'."