Humans are Weird - Slice
Clouds of steam laden with delicious smells did their best to fill the workspace before they were whisked away by vent systems that were just a hair’s touch under-powered for a kitchen feeding a crew of giant mammals. Quilx’tch brushed a paw over his upper mandibles and shook a few drops of condensate off of his talon, resisting the unsanitary urge to taste the liquid. Instead he used a different paw to lift the lid on his simmering pot of broth and lifted out a test with a third. It was a perfectly adequate broth, but something a bit sweeter was more what he thought the rest of the crew of Trisk would appreciate in their bowls this night. Quilx’tch turned the heat down under the broth, taking it down to just below a simmer and padded lightly to the edge of his raised workstation.
Below him wide platues of cooking surfaces spread out, marked with warning colors specific to his species. “This space is likely to have tanks of boiling water dropped on it.” Read one of the counters. “Earth Fruit is Round and can be up to twenty times your mass.” Declared another. This one was marked with a very simple warning glyph, in the color of blood that translated to “it rolls”. Quilx’tch gave an amused click as he noted the number of surfaces in his visual range that were marked with that particular warning. Finally he spotted what he was looking for. One of the human cooks was reducing the orange tuber they so often favored to what were small shreds even by Trisk size conventions. Quilx’tch calculated the quickest route over the spider walks to the human’s work station and trotted happily through the delicious fog until he could wave his apron for the human’s attention.
The human, one known to Quilx’tch only as “Cookie Green”, glanced up at him and bared his large teeth in a friendly greeting. Cookie, of course was a traditional fond alteration of the title, cook, and made sense in a Shatar sort of way. However as the man’s family name was not green, he did not favor ‘greens’ in the vegetable sense in his recipes, and was distinctly not a color the humans would consider green his designation remained a mystery to Quilx’tch.
“Can I do something for you Quick?” Cookie Green asked.
Quilx’tch swiped another drop off of his mandibles before replying, and the flick to get it off of his talon caused Cookie Green to smile wider in amusement. A sentiment just as puzzling as the human’s name but Quilx’tch brushed that off as well. He had a crew to feed and a pot just below a simmer with the macro-nutrients in a delicate state. Observations on cultural reactions could wait.
“Could I request this apron full of your shredded carrots?” Quilx’tch asked, loudly to be heard over the din of the room.
“Didn’t know carrots were good for you spider types,” Cookie Green said in surprise as he lifted more than the required amount, pinched between three fingers on one hand and held them out so Quilx’tch could position his apron under the mass and catch it when it dropped. Quilx’tch felt his fur puff out in shock and his mandibles twitch in concern.
“They are quite safe,” Quilx’tch assured the human. “And the sugars are delicious when properly extracted. Pardon me Cookie Green, but the end of your middle digit is bleeding!”
The human uttered a low word that Quilx’tch was fairly certain was a common swear word and immediately pulled his hand up to his eyes to inspect the blunt ends of his digits.
“Coulda’ sworn that was healed enough not to split again,” the human rumbled in annoyance. “Still, looks like to caught it before any of the blood escaped the crack and the scab. Thanks Quick. I’ll just go put a quick clear-seal on this and get back to work.”
“Doesn’t that hurt?” Quilx’tch demanded.
“Stings a bit,” Cookie Green admitted, “at least it does now that I noticed it. Would have really stung if I added the citrus juice to the salad before I sealed it. So thanks there. Saved me some pain.”
“I am quite pleased to hear that,” Quilx’tch said, relieved that the human was taking his safety, or at the very least the integrity of his kitchen, seriously. “But how did you get that injury there, did you cut yourself on a knife?”
Quilx’tch was trying to imagine at what angle the human could have been holding a knife of any kind in the kitchen to get such a shallow, to the thick-skinned humans, cut on his dominant hand. However Cookie Green shook his head.
“Not sure,” he said. “But I wasn’t even in the kitchen when it happened. Never been hurt in my kitchen by my tools. I was just out visiting the seal-snake, Old Toby, you know he’s one of the last of generation one still alive?”
“Ah, did he give you a play bite?” asked Quilx’tch a bit hesitantly. The injury did not really seem consistent with that either.
“Old Toby?” Cookie Green asked with a laugh. “With what teeth? Nah, I was scritching him behind the … well they don’t really have external ears but in that general area and his tracking tag, one of the old style, brushed up against my finger, and something on it, couldn’t see through the fur gave me this slice. Bugger of a thing a slice on the end of a finger. Doesn’t like to heal quick and if you are even a little careless just splits apart and undoes three days healing.”
The human heaved a tremendous sigh, used his uninjured hand to wipe condensate off of his eyebrows, and flicked the water off of his hand without laughing Quilx’tch noted thoughtfully, before turning away from Quilx’tch with a wave.
“Gonna go seal this now, hope the carrots are what you needed.”
Reminded of the task at hand Quilx’tch turned and trotted back to his own pot of broth, marveling at humans who were so casual about loosing three days worth of outer membrane healing, but putting it aside. His broth did need more sugar, which the carrots would provide, and Cookie Green clearly considered the slice of no importance.
Below him wide platues of cooking surfaces spread out, marked with warning colors specific to his species. “This space is likely to have tanks of boiling water dropped on it.” Read one of the counters. “Earth Fruit is Round and can be up to twenty times your mass.” Declared another. This one was marked with a very simple warning glyph, in the color of blood that translated to “it rolls”. Quilx’tch gave an amused click as he noted the number of surfaces in his visual range that were marked with that particular warning. Finally he spotted what he was looking for. One of the human cooks was reducing the orange tuber they so often favored to what were small shreds even by Trisk size conventions. Quilx’tch calculated the quickest route over the spider walks to the human’s work station and trotted happily through the delicious fog until he could wave his apron for the human’s attention.
The human, one known to Quilx’tch only as “Cookie Green”, glanced up at him and bared his large teeth in a friendly greeting. Cookie, of course was a traditional fond alteration of the title, cook, and made sense in a Shatar sort of way. However as the man’s family name was not green, he did not favor ‘greens’ in the vegetable sense in his recipes, and was distinctly not a color the humans would consider green his designation remained a mystery to Quilx’tch.
“Can I do something for you Quick?” Cookie Green asked.
Quilx’tch swiped another drop off of his mandibles before replying, and the flick to get it off of his talon caused Cookie Green to smile wider in amusement. A sentiment just as puzzling as the human’s name but Quilx’tch brushed that off as well. He had a crew to feed and a pot just below a simmer with the macro-nutrients in a delicate state. Observations on cultural reactions could wait.
“Could I request this apron full of your shredded carrots?” Quilx’tch asked, loudly to be heard over the din of the room.
“Didn’t know carrots were good for you spider types,” Cookie Green said in surprise as he lifted more than the required amount, pinched between three fingers on one hand and held them out so Quilx’tch could position his apron under the mass and catch it when it dropped. Quilx’tch felt his fur puff out in shock and his mandibles twitch in concern.
“They are quite safe,” Quilx’tch assured the human. “And the sugars are delicious when properly extracted. Pardon me Cookie Green, but the end of your middle digit is bleeding!”
The human uttered a low word that Quilx’tch was fairly certain was a common swear word and immediately pulled his hand up to his eyes to inspect the blunt ends of his digits.
“Coulda’ sworn that was healed enough not to split again,” the human rumbled in annoyance. “Still, looks like to caught it before any of the blood escaped the crack and the scab. Thanks Quick. I’ll just go put a quick clear-seal on this and get back to work.”
“Doesn’t that hurt?” Quilx’tch demanded.
“Stings a bit,” Cookie Green admitted, “at least it does now that I noticed it. Would have really stung if I added the citrus juice to the salad before I sealed it. So thanks there. Saved me some pain.”
“I am quite pleased to hear that,” Quilx’tch said, relieved that the human was taking his safety, or at the very least the integrity of his kitchen, seriously. “But how did you get that injury there, did you cut yourself on a knife?”
Quilx’tch was trying to imagine at what angle the human could have been holding a knife of any kind in the kitchen to get such a shallow, to the thick-skinned humans, cut on his dominant hand. However Cookie Green shook his head.
“Not sure,” he said. “But I wasn’t even in the kitchen when it happened. Never been hurt in my kitchen by my tools. I was just out visiting the seal-snake, Old Toby, you know he’s one of the last of generation one still alive?”
“Ah, did he give you a play bite?” asked Quilx’tch a bit hesitantly. The injury did not really seem consistent with that either.
“Old Toby?” Cookie Green asked with a laugh. “With what teeth? Nah, I was scritching him behind the … well they don’t really have external ears but in that general area and his tracking tag, one of the old style, brushed up against my finger, and something on it, couldn’t see through the fur gave me this slice. Bugger of a thing a slice on the end of a finger. Doesn’t like to heal quick and if you are even a little careless just splits apart and undoes three days healing.”
The human heaved a tremendous sigh, used his uninjured hand to wipe condensate off of his eyebrows, and flicked the water off of his hand without laughing Quilx’tch noted thoughtfully, before turning away from Quilx’tch with a wave.
“Gonna go seal this now, hope the carrots are what you needed.”
Reminded of the task at hand Quilx’tch turned and trotted back to his own pot of broth, marveling at humans who were so casual about loosing three days worth of outer membrane healing, but putting it aside. His broth did need more sugar, which the carrots would provide, and Cookie Green clearly considered the slice of no importance.
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