Nocturna League- Season One Box Set

by Kell Inkston

  Cooking Minion laughs, his wide white jaws, opening with menacing size — definitely large enough to accommodate Jacqui's head. "Sure thing, except I didn't use any of your 'awesome' forbidden ingredients. I've realized I don't really have anything to learn from you that's meaningful, so I'm going to make my move tonight."

  Jacqui's fox ears prick up violently. "What?"

  Cooking Minion, standing atop the cooking island next to Boris, strikes a heroic, ambitious, dramatic pose, inspiring Boris and making Jim feel even more awkward about this group's level of weirdness. "I'm going to crush you, ya' dingo-ass sunnovabitch."

  "B-but my secret recipes!"

  "The ones that use your secret ingredients? Please. If they were that special then why did my dessert take center stage? I'm going to out do you with complete, comprehensive superiority, honor my master, and quit, leaving Irefall with a dishonored, inferior cook, and a reminder that the better one has gone on to serve a superior master!"

  Jacqui hisses between his sharp set of carnivore teeth. "So be it, you pretentious little child. I'll show you what real cooking is! Real art, real skill, real genius!"

  Cooking Minion stamps his foot. "Alright! It's on! The best-received course set of the three will belong to the best chef. Agreed?"

  Jacqui's tail whips energetically. "Naturally."

  Boris takes in a deep breath through his mandibles, sounding more like someone gasping for air through a bag around their head. "IT IS OF THE ABSOLUTEINGLY!"

  Cooking Minion laughs confidently. "Alright! I'll take an assistant." He looks over to Jim. "You!"

  Jim freezes in horror. "M-me?"

  The Minion has the gaze of a leader about to move his men forward in a life-or-death assault on an enemy position- radiant, fatal, inspiring. "Of course. I'll make you a better chef than either of these animal gonzos!"

  Jim looks away in distaste. "Eh, I'm a pretty shitty cook to be honest. I'm sure you'll be fine by yourself."

  Cooking Minion scoffs. "There's no sense in containing the joy of cooking masterpieces to just one person, and besides, they'll have aides as well!... Girl, get in here!"

  Boris and Jacqui look to one another as Grancis finally makes herself visible from the pitch of the door frame. "Good morning, everyone!"

  Boris nods. "IT IS ABOUT OF THE TIME YOU WOULD BE OF THE GETTING HERE, GRANCIS FLESH. BE COMING OF THE HERE AND BE OF THE HELPING!"

  She nods, her expression sharpening to prepare for business. "Yes s-"

  "I think not," Jacqui says with a calculating, cold twitch of the ears.

  "WHAT IS THIS THAT YOU'RE OF THE SAYING?"

  Jacqui folds his arms. "To ensure your skill is true, my opponent, surely you wouldn't let yourself be helped by your familiar crutch just as I. I don't have my assistant, so neither should you."

  Boris looks to Grancis, looks back to Jacqui, then finally, his cleaver. "THAT WILL BE OF THE ACCEPTABLE."

  Grancis draws back. "Sir, are you sure? I mean, I have total confidence in your cooking, but-"

  "THE FOX MEAT IS OF THE RIGHT, GRANCIS MEAT. YOU WILL BE OF THE IMPROVING OF HIS FLESHFOODENING. DON'T BE OF THE WORRYING FOR ME. I SHALL STILL BE OF THE KICKING OF THE ASSENING."

  Grancis smiles, a brow raised in awkward humor. "Alright, sir." She steps over to Jacqui. "Good morning, sir."

  "Well at least one here has a proper respect of my reputation," he says with his usual cold, mild frown. "Just do exactly as I say and you'll be fine; I might even bring you on board as my assistant chef!"

  "O-oh," she mutters, half afraid to let Jacqui down because she's scared of him, and another half scared because he's so cute. "I'm not sure if I can do that. I have a cont-" She stops just as Cooking Minion swerves to the doorway.

  "The officer's coming," he says quickly.

  Grancis and Boris, who of course is, as always, privy to The Captain’s ingenious plan, immediately go to action. Grancis hides herself behind the nearest island, and Boris conveniently blocks the passage over on one side. Jacqui just crosses his arms with disapproval as Jim watches carefully.

  "Good morning, thought I'd check again," Martaine says as he steps in, his near-silent footsteps becoming obvious now that he's walking on the kitchen flooring and not the soft carpeting of the hallway. "Are you all certain you haven't seen her?"

  "BEEN SEEING OF THE WHO?" Boris asks, crossing his massive claws nonchalantly and sounding completely inconspicuous.

  Martaine squints at Boris, and then across the others. "You know, the mayor wouldn't be pleased were she to discover a guest was being hidden from her."

  Jim and Jacqui flinch- the question now is who'll drop first. Martaine scans over Boris' black, stalk-eyes, Cooking Minion's relaxed, venomously smug expression, and over then to Jacqui and Jim, who both are showing signs of consideration - certainly, what would they have to consider if they had nothing to hide?

  "All I need is to check up on her. Help me out here."

  Jacqui clears his throat. "Well that's simple enou-" In response, Boris reaches for his cleaver and Cooking Minion opens his jaws in a threatening "make my day" manner.

  "What's that, Head Chef?" Martaine says, approaching him.

  "E-eh... nothing, sir! I mean to say it is simple enough because we all have no idea where she is!"

  Officer Martaine Vangair hums in suspicion. "You understand what would happen were she to find out you all have been hiding her, yes?"

  Jacqui feigns a smile. "Of course, my good boy! And we have nothing for you here. So, shoo!"

  Martaine sighs, pauses and smiles. "Alright, well if you do see her, turn her my way. I'd like to ask her to dance with me tonight."

  There's a peep under the table. He got her.

  Amidst Jacqui blubbering excuses and Boris readying his cleaver again (though this time for a different person,) Martaine swings around a cooking island to see Grancis.

  "Hi," she says.

  "Hey," he says. "You can get up, now."

  She ascends from her sitting position to full height, brushes herself off, and motions Boris to not decapitate Martaine, as he has been preparing to do the moment he found her. "Sorry about that, officer."

  "That's... that's quite alright, Miss Vereyrty. I actually have no intention on telling the mayor that you're here."

  "Really?" Grancis asks just as Jacqui lets out a short, hooting sigh.

  "Of course. I know she's planning on having you all," he looks around, scanning over their expressions. "Dealt with," Martaine continues. "I wouldn't dare turn you in... I'm just glad you're okay. I thought you... you did something brash."

  Grancis motions over to the edge of the room, and the two step over.

  "Not quite. I've been resting like I should have, but apparently The Captain has a great big plan and I only know so much of it. I have something I have to do tonight... So I can't really go to the dance with you."

  Martaine smiles. "Well, we can dance after all this is through... I... I have faith that you'll be okay. You were in my prayers last night and it seems as though they've been answered up to now... Do you know what happened to your friend?"

  "Colette?" Grancis asks.

  "Yes, Colette."

  She peers about as if looking for the answer. "I don't know... I'm sure she's okay though."

  Martaine raises a brow as Boris, Cooking Minion, and Jacqui enter another shouting match. "I thought you'd be more concerned about her."

  "Well, I am... but I don't see why I should worry about something that's out of my control. Besides, I know for certain she'll make it through this," she says.

  "But it..." Martaine stops himself, staring into Grancis' eyes. Something about her just doesn't seem receptive. She's so incredibly calm amidst all of this, it's almost scary. "Nevermind... If you don't mind, I'd like to stay down here with you. Miss Irefall sent me off as a formality, really, so I can search just a single room and she'll know just as much."

  She grins. "I'd love that, and I think I know exactly how you can help down h
ere."

  "And how's that?"

  She takes up his hand and leads him over to Boris. "I found your assistant chef!"

  Boris gurgles in acceptance. "IT WILL HAVE TO BE OF THE DOING."

  Martaine laughs. "Wait, cooking? I'm not..." he looks at Grancis again, she's excited, even in the midst of what could be her last day. His concern turns to a smile. "Yeah. I got this."

  "Awesome!" she nudges him and she moves over to Jacqui's island.

  Jacqui nods, his professional guise resumed. "Now then, back to business. Chefs will have their assistants get the desired ingredients. We'll go with three courses each, a starter, a main, and a dessert. We start in ten minutes."

  Cooking Minion gestures a brooding Jim over. "Heya, ready to make culinary history?"

  Jim looks over to Grancis and Martaine, occasionally firing a glance at the other as they take down ingredients from Boris or Jacqui. "I guess... but I'm not a cook."

  "Yeah, and I'm not the coolest dude on the block, except I found out one day I was wrong about that. You're about to make art with me, Jimsi. Get excited!"

  "I just..." Jim focuses in on Grancis this time. She looks happier than he's ever seen her on The Nocturna. On her lips is a smile he could never give her.

  Cooking Minion sighs. "Hey, you know the best way to someone's heart is through their stomach, right?... Well it's actually through under the rib cage, but that's only if you're trying to tear it out. If you want to keep your heart in your chest and still have them love you, you're going to have to do things they like. It’s pretty obvious Grancis likes cooking."

  Jim stares on wistfully. "How can I compete with that? I... I can't even keep my priorities in order with one girl... I wanted my first time to be with someone I actually loved."

  Cooking Minion crosses his arms, one hand already on a cutting knife. "Wow, you really are a situation. Look, I'm not Psychiatrist Minion nor am I Mental Health and Wellness Therapy Minion. You're just going to have to suck this up and win the fight."

  "But I do-"

  "But nothing, ya' dork! The only thing anyone cares about is how well you perform. No one has time for feelings in the real world, so act like what you're doing counts."

  Jim stares on at Grancis for just a second more. "You're right." He looks away from her and to Cooking Minion, one leg arched on top of an upside down pasta bowl.

  "Alright! Let's get this party started!" Cooking Minion tatters off a slew of ingredients onto a list with horrifying speed. Jim always heard how freakishly dexterous blighted chaosfolk are, and seeing Cooking Minion create a thirty-two bullet point list in a matter of seconds only affirms this. Jim takes the list with a confident grip. "Be right back," he says.

  Standing next to Grancis as one reaches over the other in the pantry, she does the polite thing. “So, how was your night?”

  Jim winces. “Eh…” Now is his opportunity to stand out as a man of both courage and honesty. “-Last night was…” He can now show himself to be a man capable of taking not only shame but also display the bravery of placing it on himself. “-It was definitely…” It’s such a rare occasion he has even a moment’s privacy with her, he must be as distinct and open as possible if he truly wishes to win her heart. “It was a’ight.”

  Grancis nods as she snaps up a container of croutons. “Good. Mine was nice too.”

  “Yeah.”

  She doesn't pry further. "Well, I have what I need, so I'll see you out there."

  "Right."

  Grancis disappears from the doorway and gets rushed along by Jacqui, allowing the courteous Martaine to enter next.

  "Good morning, Mister Masthaven." He says with a nod before getting to work. His gaze moves quickly across the shelves, snapping up small amounts of each ingredient and placing them across a large platter.

  Jim takes a breath. "Morning," now that it's not Grancis, he instantly regains his mettle.

  "I trust that... the Mayor was not too unpleasant a hostess for you last night?"

  Jim's hair stand on end. Of course they'd know, Grancis just wouldn't bring it up.

  "Well... no, no she was fine."

  Martaine hums. "Well, so long as you, well, were fine with it, then I suppose there's no problem."

  Jim sighs. "Well, it wasn't the best night, at all. A matter of fact it sort of sucked."

  Martaine grabs a few dashes of cumin. "Did it?"

  "Yeah. I don't think of myself as a playboy- it was awkward and I didn't even get to do anything... Besides, there's someone else that I like... a lot."

  Martaine finds the basil. "And have you told this person how you feel?"

  "No. There's no way she'd like me back."

  Martaine looks to Jim, then Jim to Martaine, and for once the two men make actual eye contact. "You know," Martaine starts, "I don't mean to overstep my boundaries, but I have a bit of advice about that if you'd be interested in hearing it."

  "Not at all."

  "Alright then... Where I'm from, honesty is considered an optional trait. Of course, people like honesty and think it's good, but most people only look at it as something 'nice' rather than 'necessary'. Thing is, while the culture I'm from doesn't look up much to honesty, my beliefs and religion tell me to. That one should only lie if it's in the best possible interest of a person- that is, displaying your love for them through an action that might appear to be sin to the untrained eye, but in fact is simply the means to a better end. Now, I would not tell you that all applications of the 'means to an end' thinking is righteous, but it does, however have a place like so many things in creation."

  Jim raises a brow. "Uh... what's sin?"

  Martaine winces. "Oh, imperfection from God's mark of being."

  Just like Grancis, Jim draws back a tad. "...What?"

  The officer sighs. "Look, forget it. I was getting off track anyway. Anyway, no matter if you think honesty is required or not, it shows a proper respect and, if I may say, love for the other person to tell them the truth. A friend of mine learned this." Martaine takes a breath, raising a sigh from Jim. "He had a woman he loved dearly, but as the years went on, his passions became weaker and their arguments more frequent, until one day, he had drank too much at one of the local establishments and met another lady, equally drunk and as ready for adventure as he was. They slept together-"

  "Eh, Officer," Jim interrupts.

  "Yes?"

  "We're sort of in the middle of a cooking contest... and besides, I get you. I'll just tell her the truth- show her some love. If she doesn't like it, then I guess that's just how it is."

  Martaine smirks. "That's good enough, Mister Masthaven. I'm glad I could at least be of some assistance."

  Jim presents his free hand, and Martaine takes it for a light, ingredient-handling shake.

  The two step out, one who goes straight to Boris' side, and the other to Grancis.

  Under the gaze of a disgruntled Cooking Minion, Jim beelines it to her.

  "Hey, Gran," Jim says.

  "Yeah?"

  "Thing is, last night I... I slept with the mayor. Sorry."

  Grancis bats an eye, but only for the slightest moment because of how unexpected his statement was. "Well... okay. Glad you had fun, Jim. Thanks for sharing your secret- I'll make sure The Captain doesn't find out." The very worst part is that there's not even a hint of sass in her voice. She doesn't find this strange at all coming from Jim.

  Jim freezes up, gaining a decisively Captain-like impulse from her. "Wh-what do you mean?"

  Grancis stays to her preparations. "Well, you know. I assume you had a good time. I'm happy for you- she seems like your type, at least that's how you were acting yesterday."

  "O-oh..." Jim nods slowly. "Right. Thank you... Good luck."

  Grancis glances over to smile. "And you," she says just before firing yet another look over to Martaine, who is rapidly following Boris' flood of directions.

  Jim steps back to Cooking Minion with the ingredients - his expression is that of a corpse's.
<
br />   "Had a good time?" Cooking Minion asks with a grin.

  Jim shakes his head. "She doesn't even have a clue... but it's so much worse than that. This is terrible."

  The minuscule minion looses a sigh. "I thought we were past this."

  "Me too... I thought that I'd be ready for her to be angry... but she wasn't angry, or sad, or happy I was honest, or anything... she just didn’t care."

  Cooking Minion's expression changes from a stern leader, slowly, to a concerned, sad little thing that understands what Jim is talking about all too well. "Look, Jim: disappointment is a fact of life. Maybe the girl you like doesn't even see you as a prospect, and maybe... maybe you work for your overlord day in and day out for millennia without being rewarded the one thing you truly want. Maybe..." Cooking Minion stares into the depths of a heated pan, butter sliding in the most depressing way butter can slide across a pan - like a yellow slug of pure fat leaving a trail of saturated sadness wherever it goes. "Maybe a slew of rewards and gifts isn't actually what a minion wants, but validation - the real kind."

  Even amidst Cooking Minion's sudden tangent, Jim isn't broken from his trance. Instead we just have two poor souls standing around a cooking island- how depressing.

  There's the continuous sounds of pans and cookware used by the other two teams, but these two stand still, entranced in their own thoughts. Finally, Cooking Minion gives a long sigh. "But of course, that's why I'm doing this. It's so hard to be appreciated by someone who'll forget all the things you do a week later... but it's worth it still. Okay Jim."

  The wide-eyed Jim slumps upon the counter. "Yeah?"

  "If you want her to see you as something great... or something at all, maybe, like I said, let's outdo them both!"

  Jim stares blankly at Cooking Minion's reinspired features. "It doesn't matter."

  Cooking Minion sighs. "Are you for real, kid? Like you get to help out me. The High Overlord's personal chef? Most cooks would literally kill for an honor like this!"

  "I think I'll just..." Jim looks aside to the door so slowly and so sadly, that Cooking Minion could swear for a moment he's staring at Tearful Soliloquy's Minion.

  "No, I don't think you will just anything. You're going to absolutely be my assistant and make culinary history- that's that!"