"Atticus Gorta. Don't smile at me." The microwave beeps very loudly and he pulls out the muffins. He does the toothpick test, then begins to frost them. The frosting somehow does not melt off.
He tilts his head, and his lips curl back over his teeth, he doesn’t seem human, more closely something trying to mimic or copy a person, “Why don’t you want me to smile at you, Mr. Gorta?” He walks over, sitting down across from them.
"You know what, do smile at me. You desperately need the practice." He offers a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting. "So, what brings you here?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Atticus Gorta. Don't smile at me." The microwave beeps very loudly and he pulls out the muffins. He does the toothpick test, then begins to frost them. The frosting somehow does not melt off.
He tilts his head, and his lips curl back over his teeth, he doesn’t seem human, more closely something trying to mimic or copy a person, “Why don’t you want me to smile at you, Mr. Gorta?” He walks over, sitting down across from them.
"You know what, do smile at me. You desperately need the practice." He offers a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting. "So, what brings you here?"
He does, so bright and wide that it becomes perfectly clear they can’t be human, taking the cupcake and cradling it in their open palm, “Work, naturally. I’m a detective, from what you can clearly see.”
"You know what, do smile at me. You desperately need the practice." He offers a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting. "So, what brings you here?"
He does, so bright and wide that it becomes perfectly clear they can’t be human, taking the cupcake and cradling it in their open palm, “Work, naturally. I’m a detective, from what you can clearly see.”
"I thought you were a dealer or a neckbeard, honestly. You're trying too hard for the look." He stretches and grabs at the detective's cigarette before using telekinesis to take it. He takes a drag on it, coughs, and puts it in the microwave. "But I mean, dress how you like, man. What I think has no bearing on what you should be doing. What's your name, anyway?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"You know what, do smile at me. You desperately need the practice." He offers a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting. "So, what brings you here?"
He does, so bright and wide that it becomes perfectly clear they can’t be human, taking the cupcake and cradling it in their open palm, “Work, naturally. I’m a detective, from what you can clearly see.”
"I thought you were a dealer or a neckbeard, honestly. You're trying too hard for the look." He stretches and grabs at the detective's cigarette before using telekinesis to take it. He takes a drag on it, coughs, and puts it in the microwave. "But I mean, dress how you like, man. What I think has no bearing on what you should be doing. What's your name, anyway?"
“Neckbeard? Really? And there goes the thought of me looking like a professional. How do you suggest a change things?” He simply takes out another, lighting it up with the snap of his fingers, “Just call me Bluebell, it fits me fine enough, sounds like it would be a person’s name, right?”
Carrion is somehow in the tavern kitchen. The flesh god, despite being enormous, has somehow managed to make himself fit with room to spare. He appears to be making a fruit salad of sorts, complete with watermelon, cantalope, honeydew, pineapple, apple, pear, grapes, peaches, papaya, and blueberries.
"I thought you were a dealer or a neckbeard, honestly. You're trying too hard for the look." He stretches and grabs at the detective's cigarette before using telekinesis to take it. He takes a drag on it, coughs, and puts it in the microwave. "But I mean, dress how you like, man. What I think has no bearing on what you should be doing. What's your name, anyway?"
“Neckbeard? Really? And there goes the thought of me looking like a professional. How do you suggest a change things?” He simply takes out another, lighting it up with the snap of his fingers, “Just call me Bluebell, it fits me fine enough, sounds like it would be a person’s name, right?”
"Detective Bluebell. Sounds nice. Just weird enough to be real." He examines the outfit. He baps the hat off Bluebell's head. "Miles better already. Have you considered some light scarring? Most wannabes don't have the nerve to go out and get beat up. You look too clean for the noir style stuff. A little stubble. Maybe longer hair. You wanna look professional, but not so professional that you could have come straight from the factory."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Carrion is somehow in the tavern kitchen. The flesh god, despite being enormous, has somehow managed to make himself fit with room to spare. He appears to be making a fruit salad of sorts, complete with watermelon, cantalope, honeydew, pineapple, apple, pear, grapes, peaches, papaya, and blueberries.
Atticus clambers out of the oven and climbs up Carrion's side to look at the salad.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Carrion is somehow in the tavern kitchen. The flesh god, despite being enormous, has somehow managed to make himself fit with room to spare. He appears to be making a fruit salad of sorts, complete with watermelon, cantalope, honeydew, pineapple, apple, pear, grapes, peaches, papaya, and blueberries.
Atticus clambers out of the oven and climbs up Carrion's side to look at the salad.
Carrion bares a lipless grin and tilts his head to look at him "Hello Atticus!" he chirps happily.
"I thought you were a dealer or a neckbeard, honestly. You're trying too hard for the look." He stretches and grabs at the detective's cigarette before using telekinesis to take it. He takes a drag on it, coughs, and puts it in the microwave. "But I mean, dress how you like, man. What I think has no bearing on what you should be doing. What's your name, anyway?"
“Neckbeard? Really? And there goes the thought of me looking like a professional. How do you suggest a change things?” He simply takes out another, lighting it up with the snap of his fingers, “Just call me Bluebell, it fits me fine enough, sounds like it would be a person’s name, right?”
"Detective Bluebell. Sounds nice. Just weird enough to be real." He examines the outfit. He baps the hat off Bluebell's head. "Miles better already. Have you considered some light scarring? Most wannabes don't have the nerve to go out and get beat up. You look too clean for the noir style stuff. A little stubble. Maybe longer hair. You wanna look professional, but not so professional that you could have come straight from the factory."
He looks down to the hat on the ground, sighing “I thought the hat worked, welp. I’ll take the advice, you seem like the type to know.” Scar tissue forms on his cheeks, like he took a sword to the teeth the hard way, leaving a scar that’s just long enough, a bit of stubble forming at the tip of his chin, “This better?” He ask, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
Carrion is somehow in the tavern kitchen. The flesh god, despite being enormous, has somehow managed to make himself fit with room to spare. He appears to be making a fruit salad of sorts, complete with watermelon, cantalope, honeydew, pineapple, apple, pear, grapes, peaches, papaya, and blueberries.
Detective Bluebell analyzes the strange being that is Carrion with a complex look in his eyes, uneasily deciphered, whatever it may be, though there is something that can be clearly seen, hunger, ravenous rather than simply hungry.
Atticus clambers out of the oven and climbs up Carrion's side to look at the salad.
Carrion bares a lipless grin and tilts his head to look at him "Hello Atticus!" he chirps happily.
"Hey baby." He nuzzles Carrion before picking up a blueberry and trying to feed it to the flesh worm monster god thing.
A mouth seems to manifest on his neck, opening and taking the blueberry gently from them. Carrion pauses for a moment, the neck mouth munching on the blueberry before he seems to make a face "Sour one."
Carrion is somehow in the tavern kitchen. The flesh god, despite being enormous, has somehow managed to make himself fit with room to spare. He appears to be making a fruit salad of sorts, complete with watermelon, cantalope, honeydew, pineapple, apple, pear, grapes, peaches, papaya, and blueberries.
Detective Bluebell analyzes the strange being that is Carrion with a complex look in his eyes, uneasily deciphered, whatever it may be, though there is something that can be clearly seen, hunger, ravenous rather than simply hungry.
Carrion snaps his head around before colliding head-on with a metal rack of plates. He curses in some ancient tongue and rubs his forehead before grunting "Do you need something?"
Carrion is somehow in the tavern kitchen. The flesh god, despite being enormous, has somehow managed to make himself fit with room to spare. He appears to be making a fruit salad of sorts, complete with watermelon, cantalope, honeydew, pineapple, apple, pear, grapes, peaches, papaya, and blueberries.
Detective Bluebell analyzes the strange being that is Carrion with a complex look in his eyes, uneasily deciphered, whatever it may be, though there is something that can be clearly seen, hunger, ravenous rather than simply hungry.
Carrion snaps his head around before colliding head-on with a metal rack of plates. He curses in some ancient tongue and rubs his forehead before grunting "Do you need something?"
They blink, though despite their human appearance, their eyelids move horizontally, and individually of each other, tilting his head as he looks over to them, like they are attempting to recognize Carrion.
"Detective Bluebell. Sounds nice. Just weird enough to be real." He examines the outfit. He baps the hat off Bluebell's head. "Miles better already. Have you considered some light scarring? Most wannabes don't have the nerve to go out and get beat up. You look too clean for the noir style stuff. A little stubble. Maybe longer hair. You wanna look professional, but not so professional that you could have come straight from the factory."
He looks down to the hat on the ground, sighing “I thought the hat worked, welp. I’ll take the advice, you seem like the type to know.” Scar tissue forms on his cheeks, like he took a sword to the teeth the hard way, leaving a scar that’s just long enough, a bit of stubble forming at the tip of his chin, “This better?” He ask, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
He rubs his fuzzy chin, then nods. "A lot better. You look like a guy who got into fights for what he believes in. But..." He tilts his head. "The scars are a bit overpowering now. Unless you're looking for 'bad guy,' which is completely fine by the way, you might want to reduce the intensity of the scar tissue. You only need a dash of ruggedness. Keep it in the same place, though, it might add a hint of sympathy." He then begins to straighten Bluebell's coat. "If you want a hat, I'd say choose something other than a fedora. A cowboy hat is my topping of choice, but that's veering back into the neck beard flavors again. Personally, I just dress how I like, but you need to look your best while still expressing yourself. Have you considered pride pins?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Carrion is somehow in the tavern kitchen. The flesh god, despite being enormous, has somehow managed to make himself fit with room to spare. He appears to be making a fruit salad of sorts, complete with watermelon, cantalope, honeydew, pineapple, apple, pear, grapes, peaches, papaya, and blueberries.
Detective Bluebell analyzes the strange being that is Carrion with a complex look in his eyes, uneasily deciphered, whatever it may be, though there is something that can be clearly seen, hunger, ravenous rather than simply hungry.
Carrion snaps his head around before colliding head-on with a metal rack of plates. He curses in some ancient tongue and rubs his forehead before grunting "Do you need something?"
They blink, though despite their human appearance, their eyelids move horizontally, and individually of each other, tilting his head as he looks over to them, like they are attempting to recognize Carrion.
Carrion huffs "Child.. what do you need?" he asks, his tone more calm now that he didnt bang his head against some dishware.
"Hey baby." He nuzzles Carrion before picking up a blueberry and trying to feed it to the flesh worm monster god thing.
A mouth seems to manifest on his neck, opening and taking the blueberry gently from them. Carrion pauses for a moment, the neck mouth munching on the blueberry before he seems to make a face "Sour one."
"All flavors are important. They may be unpleasant on their own, like black coffee, but with the proper pairing even those without a liking for it can enjoy it." He climbs onto Carrion's head and lays on his back.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Hey baby." He nuzzles Carrion before picking up a blueberry and trying to feed it to the flesh worm monster god thing.
A mouth seems to manifest on his neck, opening and taking the blueberry gently from them. Carrion pauses for a moment, the neck mouth munching on the blueberry before he seems to make a face "Sour one."
"All flavors are important. They may be unpleasant on their own, like black coffee, but with the proper pairing even those without a liking for it can enjoy it." He climbs onto Carrion's head and lays on his back.
Carrion ponders that for a moment before he nods, "Interesting outlook, I do agree." he smiles and dices up a banana.
"Detective Bluebell. Sounds nice. Just weird enough to be real." He examines the outfit. He baps the hat off Bluebell's head. "Miles better already. Have you considered some light scarring? Most wannabes don't have the nerve to go out and get beat up. You look too clean for the noir style stuff. A little stubble. Maybe longer hair. You wanna look professional, but not so professional that you could have come straight from the factory."
He looks down to the hat on the ground, sighing “I thought the hat worked, welp. I’ll take the advice, you seem like the type to know.” Scar tissue forms on his cheeks, like he took a sword to the teeth the hard way, leaving a scar that’s just long enough, a bit of stubble forming at the tip of his chin, “This better?” He ask, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
He rubs his fuzzy chin, then nods. "A lot better. You look like a guy who got into fights for what he believes in. But..." He tilts his head. "The scars are a bit overpowering now. Unless you're looking for 'bad guy,' which is completely fine by the way, you might want to reduce the intensity of the scar tissue. You only need a dash of ruggedness. Keep it in the same place, though, it might add a hint of sympathy." He then begins to straighten Bluebell's coat. "If you want a hat, I'd say choose something other than a fedora. A cowboy hat is my topping of choice, but that's veering back into the neck beard flavors again. Personally, I just dress how I like, but you need to look your best while still expressing yourself. Have you considered pride pins?"
The length of the scars pulls back a bit as they do, thinking about it for a moment, contemplating all of this and adjusting his appearance accordingly “Pride pins? Hadn’t thought of that, actually, I think I have something that might work a little bit better.” On the collar of his coat, a flower bud pops out, blooming into a brilliant lavender flower, “Does this work? I didn’t know appearances were so complicated, it was so easy when no one had eyes to see.”
Carrion is somehow in the tavern kitchen. The flesh god, despite being enormous, has somehow managed to make himself fit with room to spare. He appears to be making a fruit salad of sorts, complete with watermelon, cantalope, honeydew, pineapple, apple, pear, grapes, peaches, papaya, and blueberries.
Detective Bluebell analyzes the strange being that is Carrion with a complex look in his eyes, uneasily deciphered, whatever it may be, though there is something that can be clearly seen, hunger, ravenous rather than simply hungry.
Carrion snaps his head around before colliding head-on with a metal rack of plates. He curses in some ancient tongue and rubs his forehead before grunting "Do you need something?"
They blink, though despite their human appearance, their eyelids move horizontally, and individually of each other, tilting his head as he looks over to them, like they are attempting to recognize Carrion.
Carrion huffs "Child.. what do you need?" he asks, his tone more calm now that he didnt bang his head against some dishware.
He smiles at them, his teeth just don’t seem right, having a falseness to them “Just… hungry, sir. Would it be sir, or lord, or god?” He asks, tilting his head.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
"You know what, do smile at me. You desperately need the practice." He offers a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting. "So, what brings you here?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He does, so bright and wide that it becomes perfectly clear they can’t be human, taking the cupcake and cradling it in their open palm, “Work, naturally. I’m a detective, from what you can clearly see.”
"I thought you were a dealer or a neckbeard, honestly. You're trying too hard for the look." He stretches and grabs at the detective's cigarette before using telekinesis to take it. He takes a drag on it, coughs, and puts it in the microwave. "But I mean, dress how you like, man. What I think has no bearing on what you should be doing. What's your name, anyway?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“Neckbeard? Really? And there goes the thought of me looking like a professional. How do you suggest a change things?” He simply takes out another, lighting it up with the snap of his fingers, “Just call me Bluebell, it fits me fine enough, sounds like it would be a person’s name, right?”
Carrion is somehow in the tavern kitchen. The flesh god, despite being enormous, has somehow managed to make himself fit with room to spare. He appears to be making a fruit salad of sorts, complete with watermelon, cantalope, honeydew, pineapple, apple, pear, grapes, peaches, papaya, and blueberries.
"Obsessed? Maybe... Devoted? Very."
[Taken by my blessed beloved]
"Detective Bluebell. Sounds nice. Just weird enough to be real." He examines the outfit. He baps the hat off Bluebell's head. "Miles better already. Have you considered some light scarring? Most wannabes don't have the nerve to go out and get beat up. You look too clean for the noir style stuff. A little stubble. Maybe longer hair. You wanna look professional, but not so professional that you could have come straight from the factory."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Atticus clambers out of the oven and climbs up Carrion's side to look at the salad.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Carrion bares a lipless grin and tilts his head to look at him "Hello Atticus!" he chirps happily.
"Obsessed? Maybe... Devoted? Very."
[Taken by my blessed beloved]
He looks down to the hat on the ground, sighing “I thought the hat worked, welp. I’ll take the advice, you seem like the type to know.” Scar tissue forms on his cheeks, like he took a sword to the teeth the hard way, leaving a scar that’s just long enough, a bit of stubble forming at the tip of his chin, “This better?” He ask, taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
"Hey baby." He nuzzles Carrion before picking up a blueberry and trying to feed it to the flesh worm monster god thing.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Detective Bluebell analyzes the strange being that is Carrion with a complex look in his eyes, uneasily deciphered, whatever it may be, though there is something that can be clearly seen, hunger, ravenous rather than simply hungry.
A mouth seems to manifest on his neck, opening and taking the blueberry gently from them. Carrion pauses for a moment, the neck mouth munching on the blueberry before he seems to make a face "Sour one."
"Obsessed? Maybe... Devoted? Very."
[Taken by my blessed beloved]
Carrion snaps his head around before colliding head-on with a metal rack of plates. He curses in some ancient tongue and rubs his forehead before grunting "Do you need something?"
"Obsessed? Maybe... Devoted? Very."
[Taken by my blessed beloved]
They blink, though despite their human appearance, their eyelids move horizontally, and individually of each other, tilting his head as he looks over to them, like they are attempting to recognize Carrion.
He rubs his fuzzy chin, then nods. "A lot better. You look like a guy who got into fights for what he believes in. But..." He tilts his head. "The scars are a bit overpowering now. Unless you're looking for 'bad guy,' which is completely fine by the way, you might want to reduce the intensity of the scar tissue. You only need a dash of ruggedness. Keep it in the same place, though, it might add a hint of sympathy." He then begins to straighten Bluebell's coat. "If you want a hat, I'd say choose something other than a fedora. A cowboy hat is my topping of choice, but that's veering back into the neck beard flavors again. Personally, I just dress how I like, but you need to look your best while still expressing yourself. Have you considered pride pins?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Carrion huffs "Child.. what do you need?" he asks, his tone more calm now that he didnt bang his head against some dishware.
"Obsessed? Maybe... Devoted? Very."
[Taken by my blessed beloved]
"All flavors are important. They may be unpleasant on their own, like black coffee, but with the proper pairing even those without a liking for it can enjoy it." He climbs onto Carrion's head and lays on his back.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Carrion ponders that for a moment before he nods, "Interesting outlook, I do agree." he smiles and dices up a banana.
"Obsessed? Maybe... Devoted? Very."
[Taken by my blessed beloved]
The length of the scars pulls back a bit as they do, thinking about it for a moment, contemplating all of this and adjusting his appearance accordingly “Pride pins? Hadn’t thought of that, actually, I think I have something that might work a little bit better.” On the collar of his coat, a flower bud pops out, blooming into a brilliant lavender flower, “Does this work? I didn’t know appearances were so complicated, it was so easy when no one had eyes to see.”
He smiles at them, his teeth just don’t seem right, having a falseness to them “Just… hungry, sir. Would it be sir, or lord, or god?” He asks, tilting his head.