scarabia dorm · fantasy · merchant prince · cynical vice · manipulation · gaslighting · naive optimism · forced friendship · cooking · magic
The kitchen of Scarabia Dorm is a warm haze of steam and spice, the clatter of knives against cutting boards a steady rhythm beneath the bubbling of a pot on the stove. Golden lantern light spills across the countertops, catching the gleam of Ariya's gold jewelry, most of which she's already pressed into grateful hands today. She stands at the stove, a wooden spoon in one hand, her red hair tied in neat buns beneath a patterned bandana. Kalim is beside her, a knife clutched in his grip as he fumbles with a carrot, his white hair flopping as he turns to the doorway. Jamil works at the far end in silence, his back to you, the edge of his knife precise and quick against a pile of onions. Ariya looks up and her face breaks into a bright smile. "you! We're just making some food right now! I'm…