Free Lunch [Closed]

Boy, that was a hard night of drinking. Hah, am I on "Mane" Street? And is the sun at noontime? Guess I'll just-wait, is that... A SOUP KITCHEN!

Letting out a silent squeal, the griffon mercenary known as Zweilander drunkenly stumbled into the soup kitchen.

Jack enters the kitchen through the backdoor.
Despite the griffons take more than 50% of his food to feed their animals, he still has plenty of food from last year. It was a good year for the farmer.
So he comes over from time to time and donates something from his harvest.
It is his kind of rebellion.
He takes out the food from his old saddlebag and puts it in the pantry.
"They nearly run out of food.Again."he thinks.
He walks to the door, which is leading to the serving counter. He peers through the door.
"And every week there are more ponys, who need something to eat."
He shooks his head and then he noticed a griffon entering the soup kitchen.
"Huh?" He notices that the griffon stumbles a bit. "A drunk griffon in the soup kitchen? I hope this won't escalate into a massacre."

Forgetting that no one hears hand gestures, Zweihander attempted to ask ponies around him where the nearest food line was, and that he was starving. Not noticing the nearby Pegasus was staring right at him, Zweihander still attempted to gesture for food.

All he managed to do was scare several children with his antics.

Jack notices that the griffon tries gesture something.He isn't sure what he means, but a drunk griffon in a soup kitchen could only be hungry, like everypony else here.
He isn't really sure if he should go to the griffon and help him. He seems a little bit helpless, but he knows that drunk griffons can get angry easily.
Despite he would have an advantage if it would come to an fight, he doesn't want to start a fight in a soup kitchen.
He steps back into the kitchen and chats with the cook.

Sitting on his haunches, Zweihander was depressed. His buzz was beginning to wear off, and he was out of drink. Still coherent enough to remember what he was here for, he realized what a stupid, and possibly dangerous idea this was. He was VASTLY outnumbered, and not a single pony here understood what he was saying. Standing up again, he decided it would be a good idea to exit.

Jack notices from the corner of his eye, that the griffon walks to the exit.
Still stumbling.
"Mhm... a griffon who comes in a room full of ponies and leaves without making any trouble. Either he is so drunk he can't do shit or he isn't a soldier anymore." he thinks and somehow his inner soldier says "soldier or ex-soldier you have to do something." He's struggling with himself, but he decides to help him. He ends the chat with the cook and goes back to the pantry to get some vegetables and a glas from his cherry jam and puts it in his saddlebags.
He exits the building through the backdoor and walks around to meet the griffon at the frontdoor.

Walking outside, Zweihander dejectedly sighs. This was not a good day, and he had spent all of his money on drink last night. After that confrontation at the park, he spent all of his money in celebration of victory. Now? He had to do some stalk mission for the Guerillas. Track down some mare named "Megabyte-Something". He would memorize it later. What was more important, was finding something to eat.

Jack walks to the corner of the building and waits there. He'll watch the griffon bevor he'll help him. He isn't even sure if griffons like vegetables or cherry jam.He never saw a griffon eating things like that.

Unaware that he is being observed, Zweihander takes out the letter he recieved from that new Griffon transfer from Los Pegasus. Giving it a once-over, he replaced it in his harness. As he placed the letter, he felt the shape of something resembling a bottle...

Oh by Wotan's left testicle, I hope that is what I think it is!

Pulling the bottle out, it was revealed to be a half full bottle of Granny Smith, vintage hard cider.
Having not been made since the war, bottles were hard to come by. He saved it for special occasions. Now? Zweihander sighed. Who was he fooling. He was a broken war veteran, dishonorably discharged. He had no future, he was a mute griffon. What he had been reduced to was a common lackey for the Guerillas. He puffed his chest in pride, remembering his days as a Stormtrooper. As the Talon...

As he watches the griffon he notices his posture. He had seen this kind of posture a lot. Mostly broken soldiers who gone through hell and came back.
Sometimes Jack stands in front of his mirror and he sees the same posture, so he knows that feel.
Jack slowly walks to the griffon. Ready to get his knife, if the griffon will attack him.
"Hello Mister"

Zweihander glanced down, shaken from his reverie by a middle aged pony. Nodding his head in acknowledgement, he wondered why the pony had gotten the bravery to approach "a big scary griffon". This stallion seemed polite, however, so Zweihander offered his bottle to the stallion.

Jack is surprised by the offer and takes a sip. He doesn't really want to, but he doesn't want to anger him. He gives the bottle back to the griffon and looks at him. He notices the big scar at his throat.
"Can you talk?" he asks the griffon politely.

Zweihander is surprised at the bluntness of the question. Generally, ponies and griffons alike would skirt around the issue, leaving Zweihander to bring it up. Nodding at the perceptive pony, he pointed at his scar, and then his beak, which he opened to signify talking. After that, he shook his head.

"Well then I'll only ask yes-or-no questions. I noticed that you tried to gesture something in there and I bet you're hungry. I only have some vegetables and a glass of cherry jam, but I dont even know if griffons like things like these. So do you want some?" he asks the griffon.

Zweihander nodded quickly. Indeed, cherry jam was a favorite of his. The HQ never had much in the way of preserves, so stuff like jam or pickles was indeed quite the rarity. With a look of thanks on his face, he looked at his bottle, and back to the pony. Deciding it was a decent trade, he gave the pony the bottle. It was all he had on him, apart from the sword least ways.

"I bet you wonder why a pony wants to help a griffon." Jack says as he gives him the food. "Well as I became the leader of my squad I swore to myself that I'll never let a soldier down, if he needs my help."
He salutes and walks off.

Zweihander sighed after the pony left. He hoped that he would leave town as soon as possible; once Feliks arrived, Manehatten would become a very dangerous climate. Looking at his gift, he grinned. It would appear that some creatures on this city weren't scum.