*Cool. I didn't remember, really. I haven't RPed here in a long time.*
Barbeau is in the kitchen, churning some butter.
Damian walks into the kitchen holding some eggs and several vegetables.
The Head Chef looks over, not stopping. "Ah. You. You're about 7 seconds early today. What kind of eggs are those?"
"I got them from the pelican king. He got them from somewhere else, and everyone needs breakfast." He begins dicing vegetables.
Barbeau watches for a few seconds, then looks through the cupboards, drawing several different cheeses. "That's hardly enough eggs for the whole crew. How does an overstuffed French-style sound? Lots of filling, not much eggs. We can use some meat so we still give them enough fat and protein. I've got some bacon I've been saving."
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.
*Cool. I didn't remember, really. I haven't RPed here in a long time.*
Barbeau is in the kitchen, churning some butter.
Damian walks into the kitchen holding some eggs and several vegetables.
The Head Chef looks over, not stopping. "Ah. You. You're about 7 seconds early today. What kind of eggs are those?"
"I got them from the pelican king. He got them from somewhere else, and everyone needs breakfast." He begins dicing vegetables.
Barbeau watches for a few seconds, then looks through the cupboards, drawing several different cheeses. "That's hardly enough eggs for the whole crew. How does an overstuffed French-style sound? Lots of filling, not much eggs. We can use some meat so we still give them enough fat and protein. I've got some bacon I've been saving."
"Ah looks like we won't have a breakfast like this one for a while then. Let's do it." He begins to crack the eggs into a bowl, taking whatever parts he has and preparing them carefully.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
*Cool. I didn't remember, really. I haven't RPed here in a long time.*
Barbeau is in the kitchen, churning some butter.
Damian walks into the kitchen holding some eggs and several vegetables.
The Head Chef looks over, not stopping. "Ah. You. You're about 7 seconds early today. What kind of eggs are those?"
"I got them from the pelican king. He got them from somewhere else, and everyone needs breakfast." He begins dicing vegetables.
Barbeau watches for a few seconds, then looks through the cupboards, drawing several different cheeses. "That's hardly enough eggs for the whole crew. How does an overstuffed French-style sound? Lots of filling, not much eggs. We can use some meat so we still give them enough fat and protein. I've got some bacon I've been saving."
"Ah looks like we won't have a breakfast like this one for a while then. Let's do it." He begins to crack the eggs into a bowl, taking whatever parts he has and preparing them carefully.
Barbeau snaps his fingers to light the stove as he places several small pans on it and puts plenty of butter in each. "The first few omelets are always imperfect, so we'll save those for ourselves. They won't be bad, though, given that I took my copper pans from the wreckage of The Gut."
He moves with startling speed, clearly used to working in a bigger kitchen and doing batch cooking.
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.
*Cool. I didn't remember, really. I haven't RPed here in a long time.*
Barbeau is in the kitchen, churning some butter.
Damian walks into the kitchen holding some eggs and several vegetables.
The Head Chef looks over, not stopping. "Ah. You. You're about 7 seconds early today. What kind of eggs are those?"
"I got them from the pelican king. He got them from somewhere else, and everyone needs breakfast." He begins dicing vegetables.
Barbeau watches for a few seconds, then looks through the cupboards, drawing several different cheeses. "That's hardly enough eggs for the whole crew. How does an overstuffed French-style sound? Lots of filling, not much eggs. We can use some meat so we still give them enough fat and protein. I've got some bacon I've been saving."
"Ah looks like we won't have a breakfast like this one for a while then. Let's do it." He begins to crack the eggs into a bowl, taking whatever parts he has and preparing them carefully.
Barbeau snaps his fingers to light the stove as he places several small pans on it and puts plenty of butter in each. "The first few omelets are always imperfect, so we'll save those for ourselves. They won't be bad, though, given that I took my copper pans from the wreckage of The Gut."
He moves with startling speed, clearly used to working in a bigger kitchen and doing batch cooking.
"Ah I heard about the Gut, sorry about that by the way. Let's do that. Although you'll have to tell me what to do." He continues working, the first few omelets going okay, but not as good as they could. He sighs "Well we know which one's ours."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Barbeau snaps his fingers to light the stove as he places several small pans on it and puts plenty of butter in each. "The first few omelets are always imperfect, so we'll save those for ourselves. They won't be bad, though, given that I took my copper pans from the wreckage of The Gut."
He moves with startling speed, clearly used to working in a bigger kitchen and doing batch cooking.
"Ah I heard about the Gut, sorry about that by the way. Let's do that. Although you'll have to tell me what to do." He continues working, the first few omelets going okay, but not as good as they could. He sighs "Well we know which one's ours."
"What do you need help with?" He's using extremely high heat and making omelets at a terrifying pace. His first few are absolutely annihilated, but after that they turn out incredibly. "I've done this thousands of times, and I'm used to training new recruits, so I don't care how minor it is, if you have a problem I can correct it."
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.
Barbeau snaps his fingers to light the stove as he places several small pans on it and puts plenty of butter in each. "The first few omelets are always imperfect, so we'll save those for ourselves. They won't be bad, though, given that I took my copper pans from the wreckage of The Gut."
He moves with startling speed, clearly used to working in a bigger kitchen and doing batch cooking.
"Ah I heard about the Gut, sorry about that by the way. Let's do that. Although you'll have to tell me what to do." He continues working, the first few omelets going okay, but not as good as they could. He sighs "Well we know which one's ours."
"What do you need help with?" He's using extremely high heat and making omelets at a terrifying pace. His first few are absolutely annihilated, but after that they turn out incredibly. "I've done this thousands of times, and I'm used to training new recruits, so I don't care how minor it is, if you have a problem I can correct it."
"Apparently something in the process is going wrong. I know it isn't something with the heat but something else." He says going through the process again, at some point making a terrible mistake that he doesn't seem to notice.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
"What do you need help with?" He's using extremely high heat and making omelets at a terrifying pace. His first few are absolutely annihilated, but after that they turn out incredibly. "I've done this thousands of times, and I'm used to training new recruits, so I don't care how minor it is, if you have a problem I can correct it."
"Apparently something in the process is going wrong. I know it isn't something with the heat but something else." He says going through the process again, at some point making a terrible mistake that he doesn't seem to notice.
Barbeau's lifeless eyes stare, taking in the details of Damian's technique. "You're too tentative with the pans. Bang them against the grate harder. It won't warp."
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.
"What do you need help with?" He's using extremely high heat and making omelets at a terrifying pace. His first few are absolutely annihilated, but after that they turn out incredibly. "I've done this thousands of times, and I'm used to training new recruits, so I don't care how minor it is, if you have a problem I can correct it."
"Apparently something in the process is going wrong. I know it isn't something with the heat but something else." He says going through the process again, at some point making a terrible mistake that he doesn't seem to notice.
Barbeau's lifeless eyes stare, taking in the details of Damian's technique. "You're too tentative with the pans. Bang them against the grate harder. It won't warp."
Damian grey eyes brighten with recognition "Oh, well I'll try not to do that." With Barbeau's instruction he fixes the issue after a few more attempts, making the eggs a little bit closer to perfect.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
"What do you need help with?" He's using extremely high heat and making omelets at a terrifying pace. His first few are absolutely annihilated, but after that they turn out incredibly. "I've done this thousands of times, and I'm used to training new recruits, so I don't care how minor it is, if you have a problem I can correct it."
"Apparently something in the process is going wrong. I know it isn't something with the heat but something else." He says going through the process again, at some point making a terrible mistake that he doesn't seem to notice.
Barbeau's lifeless eyes stare, taking in the details of Damian's technique. "You're too tentative with the pans. Bang them against the grate harder. It won't warp."
Damian grey eyes brighten with recognition "Oh, well I'll try not to do that." With Barbeau's instruction he fixes the issue after a few more attempts, making the eggs a little bit closer to perfect.
"It's an easy mistake to make. It doesn't seem like it'll take much force, does it?" He begins to handle making the plating as impressive as possible. "Keep on it. I'm expecting at least two dishes every three minutes from you, got it? We're feeding quite the crew."
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.
“Ravyn. I’ve trained as a musician since the day I was born, mah parents says.”
"Oh ok well that's lovely. Kinda funny, since I worship a god of music... anywho. Ravyn is a sick name." He then gets an idea. "Hey, you want me to make you a glass raven? I got glass related magical abilities. It won't cost you anything, either."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
⌜╔═════════════The Board══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
"What do you need help with?" He's using extremely high heat and making omelets at a terrifying pace. His first few are absolutely annihilated, but after that they turn out incredibly. "I've done this thousands of times, and I'm used to training new recruits, so I don't care how minor it is, if you have a problem I can correct it."
"Apparently something in the process is going wrong. I know it isn't something with the heat but something else." He says going through the process again, at some point making a terrible mistake that he doesn't seem to notice.
Barbeau's lifeless eyes stare, taking in the details of Damian's technique. "You're too tentative with the pans. Bang them against the grate harder. It won't warp."
Damian grey eyes brighten with recognition "Oh, well I'll try not to do that." With Barbeau's instruction he fixes the issue after a few more attempts, making the eggs a little bit closer to perfect.
"It's an easy mistake to make. It doesn't seem like it'll take much force, does it?" He begins to handle making the plating as impressive as possible. "Keep on it. I'm expecting at least two dishes every three minutes from you, got it? We're feeding quite the crew."
“Two dishes every three minutes. Got it.” He continues making them as efficiently as he can, moving quickly, eventually escalating to a masterful chef, but only by around the end. When the eggs are finished Damian is sweating pretty hard, he sits on the chair next to the table.
“Ravyn. I’ve trained as a musician since the day I was born, mah parents says.”
"Oh ok well that's lovely. Kinda funny, since I worship a god of music... anywho. Ravyn is a sick name." He then gets an idea. "Hey, you want me to make you a glass raven? I got glass related magical abilities. It won't cost you anything, either."
They shrug. “Sure.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hey y’all, you can call me Sel or Julian or whatever, I don’t really care. Pronouns are they/he. Some things about be, I like reading, writing, dnd, theater, art. I have an art doc and my yt channel linked below. Pms are always open if you need to talk. Love y’all <3
“Ravyn. I’ve trained as a musician since the day I was born, mah parents says.”
"Oh ok well that's lovely. Kinda funny, since I worship a god of music... anywho. Ravyn is a sick name." He then gets an idea. "Hey, you want me to make you a glass raven? I got glass related magical abilities. It won't cost you anything, either."
They shrug. “Sure.”
"Sweet, thanks, I need the practice." He pulls out a small, solid glass orb from within his coat, from a pocket full of many of the same orbs. He starts to murmur and press his fingers into the glass, seeming to mold it as if it were wet clay. Where his fingers fail, his incantations are able to get the details he wants.
After a minute or two he hands over a glass raven with its wings spread, clutching a pan flute underneath its streamlined body. The whole thing is about the size of an apple.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
⌜╔═════════════The Board══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
Captain Nathaniel Cairn is hardly what one might expect from the commander of such a renowned faction. He’s not the tallest — almost 6ft, but not quite — and he has both eyes and most of his limbs. At first glance, he’s not especially muscular either. His beard is neat, and trimmed close to his face. His hair is long and black wild, but noticeably clean. The irises of his eyes are black, but his pupils are a shining while. His smile reveals nearly perfect teeth. He holds a flamboyant black hat with a red plume in one hand. The Captain’s most distinguishing feature is his right hand, which isn’t a hand at all — it’s a massive ridged claw covered in barnacles and seaweed.
The Captain sits by himself on the floor of a docked Barnacle, gazing off into space with a blank stare that appears borderline catatonic. His only movement comes from the gentle tapping of his right hand’s claw against the floorboards and a slow hypnotic swaying with the breeze, so slight as to be hardly noticeable and certainly not deserving of any significant mention.
His black hat sits on a paddle that stands halfway out its oarlock and dips slightly into the sea. Evidently some lazy bum forgot to put it away properly. The way it’s standing, microscopic salt crystals will have undoubtedly begun to form in the paddle’s timber cells and started to push the fibers apart. It’s a disciplinary travesty by any measure, so why doesn’t the Captain seem to care?
The grung sits in the crow's nest, rubbing the tips of his arrows on his skin.
A seven-foot tall creature composed entirely of coral takes a seat next to him. “Hey there,” the creature says. Its voice is grating, but soft.
Mound sits by himself on the floor of a grand ocean, one made up of seven major seas and seventy-six minor ones, including several notable gulfs such as the Persian and Alaskan Gulfs and also a great many straights including but not limited to the Malacca Strait and Strait of Gibraltar. It should be noted that while straights and channels may seem exceedingly similar to the dull or uninterested layperson, the two bodies of water are in fact distinctly different in that the straight is a somewhat narrow body of water and channels are decidedly wider, and of course all of this is neither here nor there.
What is here is Mound, and he is jagged in shape and jagged in temperament, and as he sits by himself under the sea the fish and fishes and fishies swim a bit quicker to avoid his jaggedness. Not because he’s a predator, of course he isn’t, the fishies know that Mound would never hurt them, but because he’s jagged physically and they don’t want to collide in case the jagged sitter decides to stand.
And so the two Barnaclers sit, lost in their thoughts, and they stay sitting this way for most of the evening and into the night. It is only when the red light of the Redlight, that’s full Abaddon, shines down onto the Captain that he stands and makes his way to his quarters, leaving the hat and paddle gently drifting and gently rotting. And Mound stays sitting jaded and jagged until he falls into a deep sleep, and the fishies gather around him and nibble the mites from his bulky arms.
The Head Chef looks over, not stopping. "Ah. You. You're about 7 seconds early today. What kind of eggs are those?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I got them from the pelican king. He got them from somewhere else, and everyone needs breakfast." He begins dicing vegetables.
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
Barbeau watches for a few seconds, then looks through the cupboards, drawing several different cheeses. "That's hardly enough eggs for the whole crew. How does an overstuffed French-style sound? Lots of filling, not much eggs. We can use some meat so we still give them enough fat and protein. I've got some bacon I've been saving."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Ah looks like we won't have a breakfast like this one for a while then. Let's do it." He begins to crack the eggs into a bowl, taking whatever parts he has and preparing them carefully.
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
Barbeau snaps his fingers to light the stove as he places several small pans on it and puts plenty of butter in each. "The first few omelets are always imperfect, so we'll save those for ourselves. They won't be bad, though, given that I took my copper pans from the wreckage of The Gut."
He moves with startling speed, clearly used to working in a bigger kitchen and doing batch cooking.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Ah I heard about the Gut, sorry about that by the way. Let's do that. Although you'll have to tell me what to do." He continues working, the first few omelets going okay, but not as good as they could. He sighs "Well we know which one's ours."
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
"What do you need help with?" He's using extremely high heat and making omelets at a terrifying pace. His first few are absolutely annihilated, but after that they turn out incredibly. "I've done this thousands of times, and I'm used to training new recruits, so I don't care how minor it is, if you have a problem I can correct it."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Apparently something in the process is going wrong. I know it isn't something with the heat but something else." He says going through the process again, at some point making a terrible mistake that he doesn't seem to notice.
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
Barbeau's lifeless eyes stare, taking in the details of Damian's technique. "You're too tentative with the pans. Bang them against the grate harder. It won't warp."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Damian grey eyes brighten with recognition "Oh, well I'll try not to do that." With Barbeau's instruction he fixes the issue after a few more attempts, making the eggs a little bit closer to perfect.
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
"It's an easy mistake to make. It doesn't seem like it'll take much force, does it?" He begins to handle making the plating as impressive as possible. "Keep on it. I'm expecting at least two dishes every three minutes from you, got it? We're feeding quite the crew."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Oh ok well that's lovely. Kinda funny, since I worship a god of music... anywho. Ravyn is a sick name." He then gets an idea. "Hey, you want me to make you a glass raven? I got glass related magical abilities. It won't cost you anything, either."
⌜╔═════════════ The Board ══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
⌞╚════════════ Extended Signature ════════════╝⌟
*epic cooking rp*
⌜╔═════════════ The Board ══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
⌞╚════════════ Extended Signature ════════════╝⌟
*Let them cook. Figuratively and literally.*
Hello! I am a perfectly sane gibberer. Hi! :D
Locations are dead, the Temple of Potassium has fallen but its ideals live on
A mysterious link of chain... (Extended signature). PRAISE JEFF THE EVIL ROOMBA! REALLY cool video.
One of the Warlock Patrons on the forums. Low, low price of your soul, your firstborn child and your liver!
Titles: The Echoing Story Spewer from Drummer, the Endless Maws from Isis, the Mad Murderer from PJ
“Two dishes every three minutes. Got it.” He continues making them as efficiently as he can, moving quickly, eventually escalating to a masterful chef, but only by around the end. When the eggs are finished Damian is sweating pretty hard, he sits on the chair next to the table.
They shrug. “Sure.”
Hey y’all, you can call me Sel or Julian or whatever, I don’t really care. Pronouns are they/he. Some things about be, I like reading, writing, dnd, theater, art. I have an art doc and my yt channel linked below. Pms are always open if you need to talk. Love y’all <3
Is art
@Irunwithskissors
"Sweet, thanks, I need the practice." He pulls out a small, solid glass orb from within his coat, from a pocket full of many of the same orbs. He starts to murmur and press his fingers into the glass, seeming to mold it as if it were wet clay. Where his fingers fail, his incantations are able to get the details he wants.
After a minute or two he hands over a glass raven with its wings spread, clutching a pan flute underneath its streamlined body. The whole thing is about the size of an apple.
⌜╔═════════════ The Board ══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
⌞╚════════════ Extended Signature ════════════╝⌟
The Captain sits by himself on the floor of a docked Barnacle, gazing off into space with a blank stare that appears borderline catatonic. His only movement comes from the gentle tapping of his right hand’s claw against the floorboards and a slow hypnotic swaying with the breeze, so slight as to be hardly noticeable and certainly not deserving of any significant mention.
His black hat sits on a paddle that stands halfway out its oarlock and dips slightly into the sea. Evidently some lazy bum forgot to put it away properly. The way it’s standing, microscopic salt crystals will have undoubtedly begun to form in the paddle’s timber cells and started to push the fibers apart. It’s a disciplinary travesty by any measure, so why doesn’t the Captain seem to care?
Mound sits by himself on the floor of a grand ocean, one made up of seven major seas and seventy-six minor ones, including several notable gulfs such as the Persian and Alaskan Gulfs and also a great many straights including but not limited to the Malacca Strait and Strait of Gibraltar. It should be noted that while straights and channels may seem exceedingly similar to the dull or uninterested layperson, the two bodies of water are in fact distinctly different in that the straight is a somewhat narrow body of water and channels are decidedly wider, and of course all of this is neither here nor there.
What is here is Mound, and he is jagged in shape and jagged in temperament, and as he sits by himself under the sea the fish and fishes and fishies swim a bit quicker to avoid his jaggedness. Not because he’s a predator, of course he isn’t, the fishies know that Mound would never hurt them, but because he’s jagged physically and they don’t want to collide in case the jagged sitter decides to stand.
And so the two Barnaclers sit, lost in their thoughts, and they stay sitting this way for most of the evening and into the night. It is only when the red light of the Redlight, that’s full Abaddon, shines down onto the Captain that he stands and makes his way to his quarters, leaving the hat and paddle gently drifting and gently rotting. And Mound stays sitting jaded and jagged until he falls into a deep sleep, and the fishies gather around him and nibble the mites from his bulky arms.
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
*NOTHIC IS BAK*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*For a bit. Felt like writing for the first time in a while, and avoiding homework might have had something to do with it.*
*In any case, I’ll try my best to be more active here. Been missing this creative outlet, and been missing you guys as well.*
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis