Pablo's Place

“Chef Pablo!” a woman’s voice cried out.

A lanky, greying orc straightened his spine from a formerly hunched position to set his impatient gaze upon one of his servers. The dark-haired goblin only just barely stood as tall as the grey-skinned orc’s waistline, so she often had complaints about neck pains just from having to talk to her boss.

“What is it Arianette?!” the orc threw down a ball of dough with a puff of flour, “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Sorry sir!” the goblin bowed her head low, “Raian Ghannam is at the door, sir!”

A surplus wave of stress washed over Pablo as he dragged a tattooed hand down his face with a groan. Despite only being middle-aged for his kind, the goblin watched at least another ten years pile on in just a few moments.

“Is that damned Senrali with him?”

“No sir! Just a, uh—” a verse of gestures and frowns overcame Arianette as she trailed off.

“Spit it out, girl!”

“A squid person…?” she seemed confused by her own statement.

“A squid?” the chef repeated with a scowl.

Pablo bent over to try to see past the thriving crowd of customers, much to his futility, but instead saw to barging past his employees to lean up against the exit of the kitchen. His blue eyes homed in on the sight of Raian seemingly playing Rock, Paper, Scissors, Dragon* with a scrawny-looking individual with tentacles for hair.

He scoured the surroundings for any hint of purple, or a tail, but found his anxieties alleviated when he spotted none of the two.

“I’ve seen plenty of beastfolk in my day, but never something like that…” the orc spoke, “let him in! But keep an eye on him.”

“Yes sir!”

~~~~~~~

Detours and distractions aside, the duo’s destination had been reached. Scents wafted from the kitchen that Mochi could have never imagined, only adding layers onto his already-bursting curiosity and hunger.

Time and cool air had at least mostly dried Mochi off to the point he was allowed in, but the smell of the ocean still clung to him. After a few more rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Dragon, a little goblin rolled on up clad in black and white attire, her clawed fingers wrapped around a pair of menus almost the size of her torso.

“Good evening! How may I be of assistance?” She beamed a pointy grin toward the squid, which immediately faded the moment she laid eyes on the tower of a man stood before her, “Raian.”

A chill rolled down the handler’s spine, and the clarity hit him that the moment he stepped into Pablo’s Place, his ankles were no longer safe.

“Pizza, please and thank you!” Mochi cried, perhaps a bit too excitedly.

Arianette frowned, “I— we make that, yes. Do you… ah…”

“Just…” the man rubbed his eyes, “we’d like a table for two, please.”

Arianette raised an eyebrow, and quietly glared at Raian, tapping a rogue foot in the meantime.

“Fine, but no alcohol.” She pointed.

“I don’t even— okay, fine, no alcohol.”

Raian wasn’t much of a drinker, but the problem was that Unali is. Very much so, in fact. The last time the Senrali was here, they drank out their entire liquor cabinet, threw a chair on to the roof, and then proposed to Arianette using someone else’s ring.

Not to say the two had a relationship to begin with, but the goblin girl felt a little bit heartbroken afterward, nonetheless.

Thus, they were guided to a vacant spot on the outer edge of the establishment. The odd stare still happened, but they were far away enough that it didn’t bother Raian too much. They got themselves a window view at least, but there wasn’t much of interest out there.

The green, freckled woman took their orders in as few words as possible and scurried off among the herd of tables. It was quite a nice restaurant, one that favoured artistry in its barebones brickwork and sea-treated wooden pillars upholding the entire place.

Being surrounded by such a crowd wound up putting both squid and handler on edge a bit more than usual. Mochi was simply just not used to crowds, but for Raian, it went a bit deeper. The feeling was less intense the further down to the shore you go due to the fact you’d encounter all kinds of people there, but up here you’d need a thicker wallet just to walk around. Perhaps Mochi hadn’t noticed it yet, but people were looking.

Malicious or not, Mochi was certainly getting a few more stares than Raian felt comfortable with.

As they filled their seats, the boy noted that there had been something he wanted to ask Raian ever since they left the beach, but never quite had the best moment for it.

“Raian?” the boy spoke, not quite mustering up the courage to look him in the eye.

The handler hummed in response; eyeing up what else happened to be on the menu before him. The tiramisu looked tempting, at the very least.

“Why are you scared of the ocean?” he tapped his fingers on the edge of the table.

Raian frowned, shuffling closer in his chair to rest his elbows on something a bit more solid. He didn’t say anything immediately, but Mochi could feel a potent gaze on him. Why was he waiting? Maybe this was a mistake, Mochi thought.

The thud of glass and clatter of ice broke any train of thought as Arianette shoved a tray atop their table with their respective drinks and left it there, scurrying off to attend to other customers.

The two silently played about with their beverages, with the squid being pleasantly surprised by his lemonade, although he didn’t like much how it tickled his tongue, nor did he understand why this drink was ‘car bonneted’, or what it had to do with cars.

“When I was young, very young, my sister and I used to play in this lagoon – it’s like a lake, I guess – with a bunch of other kids, and on one evening when it was just me and my sister, I got caught in a rip current, this strong force that just pulled me out to sea,” he explained, taking a sip.

“Were you okay in the end?”

“Eventually, yeah.” He nodded, “I panicked, of course, and went under trying to fight it, but someone noticed me and pulled me back to shore. I haven’t exactly been willing to go back into the ocean since.”

The squid wasn’t quite sure what to say. He knew what he wanted to do, but maybe tackle-hugging someone in the middle of a restaurant wasn’t the most appropriate move. But then a realisation hit him, and his eyes widened.

“Wait a minute - you have a sister? What’s she like? Can I meet her?!” his voice gradually raised.

“Ah,” the man lowered his head and exhaled sharply with a smile, “she’s… a bit hard to reach at the moment, but she’s wonderful. She was terrifying at times as a kid, completely fearless too. I think Unali takes after her a bit, whether they admit it or not.”

The squid bore a look of awe; in the six months he had known the man, this was the first time he had willingly talked about his family. He wanted to know more, and it almost hurt deep in his chest that he didn’t know more to begin with.

“What’s her name?” he bubbled, scooting closer in his chair.

“Luca,” Raian’s smile dimmed ever so slightly, “her name’s Luca. Named after our grandfather, actually.”

“You have a grandfather?!” Mochi’s surprise came full circle.

“Everyone’s got a grandfather.”

“Well, I don’t!” the boy shrugged.

Now, that was a topic that would require a lot of unpacking, because for now, they had another subject come to the table. Rippling with steam and lined with a healthy dose of char, they looked just like how Mochi imagined.

One margherita**, topped with fresh basil, and one with black olives and anchovies. Already pre-sliced, against the better judgement of people who think they need to dictate how other people eat their pizzas. Familial discussions had to be put aside for now, it was the stomach’s turn to do the talking.

Having his full, undivided attention, Raian pulled up a prime slice of fishy goodness and motioned for Mochi’s attention without even breaking eye contact with his food.

“Alright – see, what you do is you fold the crust in on itself a little bit, just to ensure that the edges and end of the pizza don’t sag, and then—”

Raian’s flow of words practically got blindsided by a tram as the sight of Mochi eating his pizza crust-first not only stunned him, but also those around him.

“Mochi, no.” Raian blurted in the exact same intonation one might say the same to a cat trying to chew through an electrical cable.

“Mwaht—” the squid mumbled with a mouthful of dough.

Before Raian could even open his mouth, Pablo was already towering over the two of them. How he got there so fast is a family trade secret passed down for generations, but secrets did nothing to ease the ominous glare beaming down on the handler.

“Do we have a problem?” you could practically mill wheat with how heavy his voice was.

If looks could kill, then this was genocide. He wasn’t staring daggers, these were zweihanders. The entire restaurant came to a complete standstill, and Pablo’s stare turned to Mochi, who only thought it appropriate to stare back whilst complying with Raian’s instructions.

“No,” Raian uttered, “no problems here.”

“Good.” The orc flipped a towel over his shoulder and disappeared, leaving the duo to it.

While Mochi proceeded to savour every bite, Raian knew better, and instead savoured every little bit of expression in the squid’s face. He hardly focused on his own food – it was something he admitted guilt to many times that whenever he introduced a new concept to someone, he would be ever attentive.

But there was something else there. He found himself staring a bit more than he usually does. His smiles were a bit more truthful, but between that, and the distant glares of Pablo from the kitchen, they both saw fit to hurry up before he came back to toss them in the oven too.

*Dragon always wins. Unless more than one person threw a Dragon, then all Dragon-throwers lost. It’s not a very well thought out game.

**The Queen Margherita of this world is an extremely popular drag queen, and they’re still kicking.