Soup Kitchen
Nov 18, 2015 3:21:53 GMT
Lasair Landevier Lupen, Emelo and Leo Halvorsen, and 1 more like this
Post by Clairee Donya on Nov 18, 2015 3:21:53 GMT
OPEN TO ALL
Rumors had run rampant before of some kind of military massacre in the hovel some weeks ago, but all that seemed forgotten in the past couple of days as the slums took the brunt of the blast from enemy long range fire. She couldn't fathom why they were striking from the outskirts instead of moving in, but with the MI's secret ops predating the Sveden attack, the city was feeling the strain of both the foreign blockade and the domestic embargo.
Clairee kept what she knew to herself though, and went about her business helping the Donya family cart off all their farm stores and goods to the central square, so they could set up a soup kitchen where the shanty cardboard huts were erected (against the wishes of the nobility no doubt). But where else could they go? Given the situation in the hovel and the raining death nearly hourly? The entertainers district was already at full capacity and the Merchants district wasn't designed for a dense residential population. It was designed for entrepreneurial function not for domestic living.
The sea and sky ports were a joke, since the only housing they provided were the ships themselves and those were already at full capacity BEFORE the war set in. No. they had no where to go but the expanse of parkland in the center of the wealthiest district. The only cultivated plot that they could squat on en mas.
Her brothers, all except for the military one, unwound the tables till the gears stopped clicking and the tables stood firm in a long serving line. She helped carry the heavy buckets of milk from their cows, and the butter from churning all week long. There were also some rolls, though they wouldn't last the night, and they weren't exactly wheat farmers, they were livestock farmers. The produce came from the country side, out of the smaller city states. All of that imported stuff was going to be sorely missed.
As for the livestock... One of their lambs would be on the spitfire tonight. She tried not to think of it. She loved their little lambs and always thought selling their coat for profit was a good enough use for them. Eating a pet seemed wrong... but her father did not consider them to be pets so...
They were a big family, but even with the twelve of them, and their father. they couldn't manage this all alone.
Rumors had run rampant before of some kind of military massacre in the hovel some weeks ago, but all that seemed forgotten in the past couple of days as the slums took the brunt of the blast from enemy long range fire. She couldn't fathom why they were striking from the outskirts instead of moving in, but with the MI's secret ops predating the Sveden attack, the city was feeling the strain of both the foreign blockade and the domestic embargo.
Clairee kept what she knew to herself though, and went about her business helping the Donya family cart off all their farm stores and goods to the central square, so they could set up a soup kitchen where the shanty cardboard huts were erected (against the wishes of the nobility no doubt). But where else could they go? Given the situation in the hovel and the raining death nearly hourly? The entertainers district was already at full capacity and the Merchants district wasn't designed for a dense residential population. It was designed for entrepreneurial function not for domestic living.
The sea and sky ports were a joke, since the only housing they provided were the ships themselves and those were already at full capacity BEFORE the war set in. No. they had no where to go but the expanse of parkland in the center of the wealthiest district. The only cultivated plot that they could squat on en mas.
Her brothers, all except for the military one, unwound the tables till the gears stopped clicking and the tables stood firm in a long serving line. She helped carry the heavy buckets of milk from their cows, and the butter from churning all week long. There were also some rolls, though they wouldn't last the night, and they weren't exactly wheat farmers, they were livestock farmers. The produce came from the country side, out of the smaller city states. All of that imported stuff was going to be sorely missed.
As for the livestock... One of their lambs would be on the spitfire tonight. She tried not to think of it. She loved their little lambs and always thought selling their coat for profit was a good enough use for them. Eating a pet seemed wrong... but her father did not consider them to be pets so...
They were a big family, but even with the twelve of them, and their father. they couldn't manage this all alone.