[Invite Only] Kings of Londenium

[Deleted]

A vertically-challenged, blue-eyed samurai garbed in plain black yukata, shorts and boots walked down the streets of Londenium with a much taller guardian in tow. Caerbannog held his hand as she led the way to some ‘new place’ that the other adventurers were talking about. Excellent food, they said. Excellent drinks, they said. The samurai, ever curious of new food items, just had to check that new place. The pair soon reached the shop and it was nothing like the usual holes-in-the-wall which the city had. The restaurant was built into one of the larger buildings which were cleaned out by the landers who owned the place.

“ Wait a while... “ Caerbannog said to her companion as she pulled up her friends list and called a few people through telepathy.

- I’m in this big place... the new one... come please? - she said to Kumori.

- Party? In new place Londenium, - she said to Scoria.

Calling Kumori was a no-brainer. The samurai usually tried to pull him along in her adventures. Scoria though... Caerbannog wanted to see his turtle-naming summon again. Once the calls were ended, the girl pulled @0x1dea into the restaurant and she looked for the largest available table. She then let go of the guardian and sat down on one of the chairs.

“ I want everything! “ the girl demanded, “ My niichan will pay! “

OOC Notes: ---
Word Count: 230
Tags: @dindeen Kurai Kari-shi Ragnarok Elkeid Shepard Dagon

[Deleted]

HP: 100% MP: 100% Status: Big Brother Has Shallow Pockets Oxford knew something was up when he met Caer in the Londenium square. The sense of imminent dread lodged itself further in his body when Caer grabbed his arm and dragged him to this fancy new eating establishment. The Guardian hadn't even taken his seat when the Samurai stated that she wanted everything, and quite loudly as well. Landers currently seated and eating turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Picking up the menu, he looked at the various items up for consumption at a moderate price. One item on the menu seemed to be the one he was looking for. - The King's Feast - The serving sizes are large and the quantities are many! Perfect for feeding the masses or to help yourself as you laugh at their misfortune! (Yeesh, they desperately need to find a better description for that...) Despite it's dark humor, Oxford ordered the feast for the two of them, shaking the gold out of his satchel to make sure he had enough. "Phew. Just enough, and some left over for an inn later tonight." Little did he know that the Samurai was planning for more guests to arrive. Hopefully, the King's Feast would be enough to quell their appetites. That is, if there was any left after the two Adventurers got done with it. Words: 220 OOC Notes: GET EXCITED, 'CAUSE IT'S GONNA GET WEIRD. Tags: @0x1dea @dindeen Kurai Kari-shi Ragnarok Elkeid Shepard Dagon Scoria Kumori

[Scoria]

RINGADINGDINGDING.

Ugh. What the. Scoria pulled himself up from the floor and glared up at the odd sound that had appeared. What was with that font? Was someone playing a trick on him? Scoria let out a sigh and patted down his hair, wondering why someone decided that Pinyon Script was the appropriate font to use there. Was there something wrong with them? But at the very least, he had gotten the telepathy message. Apparently, he was being invited...? By Caerbannog. That was unexpected, but maybe she needed him for an adventure? He somehow doubted it, but he got himself ready for something or whatever it might be. This was really kind of weird, him being invited to a party like this. Wasn't it far more likely that she had other people she knew that she'd be able to adventure with? She was nice enough as a person, he knew, so surely there were people better to party up with than him?

Well, considering it was in a new place in London, maybe she needed his... coercion expertise. That was starting to make sense. He hoped his order for something other than these plain clothes would be finished, he had to drudge some old ones up from Ange's attic. He paid her, of course, but she was being really hospitable and it was starting to piss him off because he couldn't tell if she was doing it because she was a Lander (and he kept accidentally toggling on Allure) or because she was a decent person and thought he was okay. He wasn't sure which was worse, either. Well, he was moving down the street before he knew it, waving goodbye at his forest sprite and the kids on the street, as well as Ange. The familiar had been summoned earlier in the day, but Scoria had been tired, so she had taken to playing with the neighborhood children. She was having fun and they were all having fun, so he let her be. His mana reserves could handle it. Probably.

Still, these clothes might need some work. The druid walked down the streets carefully, his expression and natural presence pushing Landers away from his path as he walked. It seemed like the higher a level he got in Courtesan, the more of a presence he had among the Landers. The result was that he could simply walk and glare and people would move out of his way at this point, unless they were Adventurers. Still, because he was an adventurer, they didn't pick a fight with him either. Therefore, Scoria was in front of the establishment in short order, walking carefully through the door. Was it... seat yourself? He had been invited by Caer, so he was looking around for the midget now, but all he saw was the rather tall figure of Oxford. Huh. A Lander stumbled in front of him for a moment and Scoria stared her down until she moved aside, but beyond that, he had no trouble making his way over to the table.

Although his expression was impassive, he supposed he shouldn't have been amused or surprised that Oxford and Caerbannog knew each other. It was lucky he knew them both, although what impression he had given them both was yet to be seen. Still, he had been called as a party member, so it was time to get down to business. Sitting down next to Caerbannog at the oversized table, Scoria turned to face the duo. "You called me as a party member. What do you need me for?" He hadn't meant to sound as standoffish as he did, but that was the way he spoke and the tone he gave. He just had no idea that when Caer said 'party', she meant 'celebration' and not 'adventuring group'. He really should have seen that one coming, but he didn't hear either of them order, so what was he going to do?

Except bop Caer on the head later for her misleading words. For now, he just bored holes in the other two Adventurers, while waiting for a response.

[Elkeid]

Walls were definitely a wonderful invention. Elk had to commend the first person to ever erect the wall of their little hovel with mud or straw or giant palm leaves, whatever; the point here was that they were great for blocking out not only the elements, but annoying people as well. Elkeid had her wall, Private Eyes, set up in a corner of her inn room, and had sequestered herself in. The little werecat, Sorrel, who refused to neep off, was too short (or vertically challenged, as Caerbannog would put it) to scale the wall and invade her privacy, which was nice. That did not stop the boy from chattering nonstop, but as she could not see his lips, she could drone him out and pretend it his cries were that of a kitten, albeit with the occasional English word coming through - no, wait. It was just the voice of a neighbor scolding his cat for being too chatty. Elk nodded to herself from behind the newspaper she was reading. Yep. The cat was probably in heat or something.

A soft scratching sound came from under the wall. "Hoh~?" Elkeid watched as a small set of paw-like fingers wiggled themselves under the wall. Why must the boy ruin her fantasy? "Go away, Sorrel. I'm doing adult things." She flicked a page, and immediately her eyes were drawn to a loud and obnoxious ad for a new restaurant. It boasted high quality food and drinks for decent prices, but the ad itself was so shitty, and the design of the building displayed in the provided image was so...bleck! Bleeeeeeck! What buffoon paid for such gaudy design? Elk would probably break out in hives if she were to step into the building.

Her eyes shifted from the newspaper to the floor near the wall, where the little fingers were now straining to pull it up. Elkeid scooted down in her seat until lower back was resting in her chair, and propped her long legs up by placing her ankles on the top of the wall. Was it an uncomfortable position? A little. Did it buy her some time? Yes. A small grunt of frustration could be heard from the other side of the wall, which she pretended was just the sound of her wall settling down under her weight. "Hm. But if they have good drinks as they claim, it may be worth looking into."

"YOU'RE GOING OUT TO EAT?! TAKE ME TOO, MUM!"

Elkeid sighed as she closed her eyes, and then opened them after lowering her newspaper. Sorrel's head had penetrated the perimeters of her corner, and he appeared to be attempting to scrabble over the wall. "One moment." Her heels clicked softly against the ground as she right herself, and then proceeded to desummon the wall. Sorrel plummeted and would have hit the floor, had she not grabbed him by the back of his shirt. The kid was small enough to be mistaken for a feline dwarf. She flung him onto the bed without a further word. "Go find something to change into - and if I catch you digging over or under my wall again, I'm going to smash your toes and fingers."

The wall was resummoned, blocking the Monk from the little Guardian's view. The article of clothing she changed into was...anything but appropriate. Anarchy Belt was just a shirt and some very very short shorts, covered in an assortment of belts, after all. It would be worse without the boots or jacket, though. 'These bunny ears.' She tapped them, thankful that a fluffy bunny tail was not added to back of her hot-pants. Actually, that would have been kind of cute… The lack of a mirror was frustrating, but at least she could sort of look at her butt if she twisted one way and lifted her jacket - Motherfreaking Sorrel was on the wall again.

* * *

"Mum! Can I come out now? I'm sorry! And it's dark and scary down here!" The werecat presumed to sob from the hole he was buried up to his neck in. Elkeid smashed a defenseless flower pot and placed the potted soil on top of his head, where a lone flower limply hung. She had told him several times that she would bury him, and was not going to listen to his small pleas.

"I'm going out. You can sit there and think about what you did while I'm gone."

"Muuuuumsy!"

With a flutter of her long jacket, Elk was off. She ignored the stares her outfit attracted; it fit her well and was comfortable, which was all that mattered. The guy that greeted her at the entrance of the restaurant couldn't take his eyes off her, either, and chose to ignore a few other customers to lead her inside the building. "Come right this way," he said, ignoring a small girl at one of the nearby tables, who was shouting out a hefty order to the staff. Elk raised an eyebrow at the girl, who seemed vaguely familiar, but quickly drew her eyebrows together when she spotted one of the men seated with her.

'Scoria.' What the hell was he doing here? Wasn't there some helpless Landers he had to beat down? And seated with them was - "Oxford?" What the hell was going on here?

"Can I seat you at-"

"No. This is my party. Thank you." The waiter looked confused, but did not stop her as she invited herself to the large table, claiming a seat beside Oxford to establish dominance. "Bring me something strong and alcoholic," she said to the man, while she still had his attention. If the drink sucked, it was going right back into his face.

coded by benetnasch of ET

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Words:
957

Muse:
Chick Habit

Notes:
Bottom left is "Anarchy Belt".

Tags:
@dindeen, @0x1dea & Scoria

[Shepard Dagon]

Peace? It's that edible or something?

After several days of misery eating salty cracker flavored food Shepard managed to complete a long scouting quest for a pair of wealthy landers who needed the map of an area to establish a new mercantile route between Londenium and some town near in the east. The grateful pair paid Shepard a generous amount, which was destined to satisfy the irrepressible desire of the Shaman to eat actually tasteful food and not the stale crackers he was able to afford until then. Even when he had to go through marshes and swamps, face things no one should see and escape from some kind of gigantic, fierce and relentless emú that somehow got mad at him for rescuing its eggs from being eaten by an alligator; he appreciated that it gave him the opportunity to concur to such place.

The smell of the food being carried to other tables was indeed tentative; the drooling wolf had to refrain from doing a mess while his excitement grows. But he soon got distracted by something else... Caer and... that must be Oxford, the one they talked me about, they did get to this place too, what a coincidence it was... but when he wanted to rise and greet them, the waiter stepped in front of him asking for his order. Politely Shepard excused himself and asked if he could change his table, after the agreement, the shaman went to where his friends were, just to find there were three... Someone who Shepard never saw before was talking to them, and soon more adventurers joined there, which made the wolf, feel insecure.

Before he could turn around and go back to the table he was spotted by them... the touch of despair in his sight could be noticed from miles, but somehow he managed to get closer step after step just to make a hand gesture without saying a word after joining the group, it was as much as he could do, there were many people gathered in one place, Shepard just knew a few of them, given his personality he preferred to remain shut at least for a moment until he could watch the kind of people the others were...

After the "greet" Shepard took a seat near his friends, and looked carefully across the room, the characters there seemed to be all from mid to high level, which was intimidating for the wolf; luckily being dressed for the occasion with an all-black tuxedo like the one he used to wear in the real world made him feel a bit more comfortable, for him colors like the black helped him to pass unobserved, or at least that's what he always thought. 

-Thought-
Don't make a mess out of this
...
But don't let them get you off guard

After telling that to himself, Shepard showed his best neutral face to avoid chasing away anybody but caring not to be seen as very friendly to be taken off guard, that was his first line of defense against strangers.

Tags: @0x1dea @dindeen Kumori Scoria Elkeid Ragnarok Kurai Kari-shi
Word Count : 510

[Kumori]

Kumori HP: 100% MP: 100%

"In order to live, I will continue to fight. In order to retain my humanity, I will continue to destroy those who mean to harm my friends."

Ryuu was surrounded by piles of paperwork that started out as one small stack on his desk and increasing 100 fold into several stacks that lined the room. His hair was frazzled and his head sinking lower and lower after every signing that he made with the quill and pen. While he legitimately wished to be a scribe at this moment, he sighed and continued to toil on with his work. Stack after stack, page after page, I after I, t after t, he had finally finished the papers with several hours of sitting there. While the stacks were his fault because of his procrastination, he still hated to have to stay in the office and do work while others went to adventure. After he finished, he took a stack and threw it in the air. “Finally!” he exclaimed as he made a complete mess of the room with all his finished paperwork. The Lander came in and smacked his palm to his head because the Guild Leader had just made his life even harder. Ryuu smiled guiltily, and tipped the man an extra 10 gold above his pay so that he’d be more okay with what he had to do. “Sorry about that… excitement, you know?” The Guild Leader stood there with an awkward smile and scratched his head, trying to do something about the awkward situation, but thankfully the awkward situation was diffused by the not-so-awkward message that began to ping awkwardly. He listened to the message and then smiled. He turned to the Lander and bowed. “Here’s 10 more gold for your troubles,” he said, “but I have to go… I will see you when I get back,” he said.

After he had left the vicinity, he went to his room to dress up appropriately. It was most likely going to be a pretty casual event. He put on a slim-fit button up long-sleeve shirt that was purple and tied his hair into a normal ponytail. He then put on some nicer pants he had made which were white to match the purple shirt. He then put on some leather shoes in order to match how he dressed. He kept his shirt untucked and placed his hands into his pockets before placing all of his equipment into the ‘stash’ mode so that they were not shown on his person while he walked.

After he had dressed up, he went to the new restaurant that Neun was speaking of. He had heard that adventurers had recently purchased a building and had made an entire restaurant out of it. While the buildings still had their rustic and post-apocalyptic look, the cleaned version of it wasn’t all that bad when Ryuu approached it. It seemed there were quite a few people in line to be seated for food as well as multiple levels for people to dine on. He was surprised that he was going to eat here, where the food was apparently amazing and so were the drinks, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. He hadn’t had a good glass of scotch in a while, so he figured he’d enjoy himself a bit more. As he entered the front door of the restaurant, he was greeted by the hostess and many waitresses. Ryuu bowed and thanked them for the invitation. “I’m looking for my friend? She’s a Wolf-Hair and kind of short…” he said. The hostess pointed him in the right direction. Ryuu thanked her and looked over towards the table with a few people he had met, but also a few he had not.

He approached the table of the many players invited to hang out, eat, and drink. “Hello everyone,” he said to them as he took a seat close to Kyuu. Ryuu wasn’t much of an introvert, however he still preferred sitting next to people he did know so that he did not make anyone feel awkward. The waitress came over to ask him if he would like anything to drink. “Please give me your finest scotch, neat, and a glass of ice water. Keep the tab open for me, I’ll give you the full payment at the end of the day,” he said.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the bill has already been paid, even the full open bar… all drinks have been paid for,” the waitress said. Ryuu looked wide-eyed at the bar that was behind the waitress. “Anything, huh? This will be fun,” he snickered. “Well, get me the finest scotch and the glass of water… it looks like I’ll be having a fun night tonight,” he said to the waitress. “Soooooo why are we all here?” he asked everyone, mostly directing the question to Caerbannog. “Is this another one of your food adventures?” he asked her seriously.

OOC NOTES: 792 words

Made by Sifr of GS, Synesthesia and Adoxography.

[Tobin]

-OOC: As far as I am aware, this restaurant isn’t named, so I took some creative liberties. XD And I am rather rusty, so forgive me if I am a tad flat, and that Neun had invited me along. Word Count: 497-

“All this stuff… Taste like chicken, even the cider, taste a little bit like chicken.”

Tobin inaudibly mumbled to himself, turning the metal beaker of the cider glass with an idle hand as the urine coloured fluid continued to bubble, somewhat disappointed that alcohol didn’t have its desired interactions with his bartender crafting class. Since appearing in this world he hadn’t found anything that remotely tasted of anything, thus after being in seven pubs and bars, if not eight or nine, he had once again found himself wandering the streets with little more than the clothes he wore and a tankard of insight equipped in his right hand, the dwarf was pissed and not in the way he particularly liked.

Ever since I picked up this game everything has been comparable to bovine turd, flat with a hint of nuts. Though at least they accurately represented London for a change, overcrowded with terrible public transport and an oder of human facial matter lingering in the breeze… Hmm, what’s this?

His mumblings halted as the vertically challenged brick paused as his pale blue eyes widened, centred on a partially elaborate establishment built into the new Londenium square.

“-The… The Kings Throne? How awfully British, makes me wonder whether the food tastes better than the contents, still-“ The becker was tossed dismissively to one side, spilling the pale green liquid over unfortunate landers as he strode towards the door, pausing only to combed his immensely rich facial hair between fat fingers before he forced the door open with both hands “-I’ll be givin’ anything for a good meal right now.”

The contents of the room were bright, garish and full of movement and sound and he couldn’t help but find his gaze linger on the centre of the activity, with a near continuous supply of food being farried to and trays ferried away from a singular table. It wouldn’t be until another five minutes until a Lander hand noticed his presence.

“I’m sorry sir, the entire restrant and bar has been brought out by that table of adventurers over there, do you happen to be with them?

“Ahhh… Yes yes, I do actually.”

A barefaced lie, but considering Tob’s desire to actually get some sort of satisfaction today he hungered for decent grub, brushing his beard he strode over to the table, bringing with him only a big bold grin and a strong overtone of an Irish accent as he shifted firmly into his online personality. Though he was slightly shorter than the shortest of them, his bulky frame meant he was wider than many of them

“This fellowship be looking incomplete without the token dwarf, mind if I join ye? I am tired of the taste of chicken.”

Assuming this was accepted; he would immediately sit down and carve off a hunk of venison, sat beside no one in particular. Being the stranger to the table he wasn't in a position to set the pace of the conversation.

[Ragnarok]

People of Mass Destruction? More like People of Mass Intoxication.

    Another day went by as usual. Ragnarok had been resting by his usual spot, near a river on the grass, listening to the sounds of nature as he waited for something. He himself wasn't sure of what, but something was bound to happen, maybe. Eventually, hours by hours passed, as nature continued its course until Ragnarok decided that fate decided for him that it was time to stop relaxing and head out on some kind of journey or adventure. He wasn't sure on where he wanted to go, but no matter what, he was determined to just do something, so his decision was made. With his washed clothing on, a black sleeveless shirt, a pair of black leggings, and a pair of black boots, Ragnarok took off with a goal to just enjoy this new life. No boundaries, no limits, just a day to himself without any hostility from anyone. What better place to start than with the local news?

    After a few minutes of traveling around the zones, Ragnarok ended up hearing a lot of rumors about this one place that served decent food. Food that actually had taste and drinks that didn't feel like tap water all the time. For Ragnarok, he knew that he had to check this place out. It could help him on knowledge of anything a Chef could do as well apply his skill, Iron Stomach, to the occasion where the food would affect his body malignantly; however, Ragnarok still hoped that nothing bad would come of this eatery. He was hungry as the only thing he had been eating for a while was fruit, non-stop fruit. He learned that he was able to make drinks out of the fruit with water from the river, but it was disgusting to no end. Fire was something he didn't have, and the result of that experimentation left him a little scarred. He refused to try it ever again.

    "Okay. A new place in town. So far, all I've been able to pick up is this poster with the name of this place called The King's Throne. Different attractions on the menu include: a bar, delicious gourmets such as the...The Mead of Kings...Where do they even get these names? I mean, I won't drink it, but still...These are horrible names...Still, it's the only place that serves anything that is close to real food in this world, so I might as well try it out and see how far I can get before I have to exit the stage."

    Ragnarok looked at himself as he headed towards the Londenium square which was where The King's Throne was located at. Upon looking at the establishment's entrance, Ragnarok was stupefied by the grandiose image that was presented to him. It was like a dish prepared with the right amount of sauces and spices, all combined to make one beautiful course that would've blown away the tongues of anyone.

"Oh my gosh. This place is amazing! The decor is jaw-dropping. Whoever set this place up indeed deserves praise for that of a king! I just hope that the food and drink is just as filling as this sight. Truly beautiful."

    Without anymore hesitation, Ragnarok took his steps into the shop, surveying the interior of the eatery. Just as the advertisement said, it had a bar, and this bar was not your typical one. It was enormous. Ragnarok might've come to the wrong place as drinking wasn't his type of thing to do, but nonetheless, he drew himself forward, ready for any kind of kingly meal to be prepared for him. He was starving from all the healthy nutrients that he partook in almost everyday; however, a waitress walked up to him with a kind smile. For him he didn't care if she was one of the People of the Land or another player, Ragnarok just wanted to eat right now.

    "Hello sir. Welcome to our humble establishment. I'm sorry, but most of the bar and food has already been bought out by the party over there."

    She pointed towards a large table surrounded by what seemed to be, at the moment, at least seven people. Ragnarok was surprised that seven people would actually spend a lot on this. He pondered the thought that maybe they just wanted to get intoxicated on the drink here, but the image was quickly dismissed as he saw the faces of Kumori and Shepard in the group.

    "Hmm...Maybe I can perhaps join them? I'll be able to develop a closer relationship with them, and perhaps the others. That is, if they don't get too drunk off the beer here."

    "Are you apart of their small party, sir?"

    "Oh, umm...Well, you see. Two of those guys, I know already, so I don't think it'd be any problem if I can join them, right?"

    "I suppose not. So please, relax and enjoy your time here."

    Ragnarok thanked the waitress for letting him partake in this group's joyful festivity. He made his way to the group, calmly and with a courteous face to show generosity in his manner. He took a seat at the farthest end of the table and smiled peacefully at the group, knowing that everyone here would be accepting of him no matter what. It was going to turn out to be an intoxicated session in the end, no matter who showed up, so why not? However, if Ragnarok was going to join a group like this, he was going to be as civil as he could for a first impression. Ragnarok was going into this with confidence, hoping that he wouldn't get shut down from this excellent merriment, or at least be thrown out with some generosity from the group.

    "Hello. If you all don't mind, I'll be joining you for the evening. The name's Ragna, and there's not much else to me. Sorry for barging in on this group as well. I hope I don't disturb the peace."

WC: 1004

[Deleted]

Liars. Liars all of them.

Even with so many people around her, Caerbannog did not try to hide the disappointment on her face when she tasted the shit that was referred to as The King’s Feast. It was more like a King’s “fist” that had just been- wait, this is a PG-13 board. Let’s leave it at that. ANYWAY, the samurai was so disappointed that she wanted to punch someone to death. Or just to unconsciousness, whichever works. At first she looked up at Oxford who had ordered the darn thing. It was his fault, definitely. Caerbannog had that look in her eyes which was undeniably the same look that she had when she punched the Ember Newt to death.

“ It tastes not good... “ was all the girl said before she proceeded to beat up the guardian...

...in her mind. She’d never actually do it what with her concern that she might seem rude and all. Beating someone up was not exactly the opposite of being rude, right? She then noticed that Scoria was there, but without the super cute summon. Why? Why of all days? Its presence would have made the food taste less crappy because of its cuteness and stuff, so where was it? Because of that, the samurai just looked up at Scoria with a pitiful expression on her face. That is, until a dark haired woman who was rather scantily-clad approached them and seated herself beside Oxford. She looked nice so Caerbannog stared at her for the longest time. Staring- staring- until the woman ordered a drink. She then waited for the dark-haired adventurer’s reaction to see if the drink sucked too much like the food.

An unmistakable character then walked in. It was Shepard who always had that slightly-glum, slightly-serene look about him. The samurai weakly waved to the shaman and hoped that he would join her in her misery. By the time that Kumori walked in, Caerbannog just stared blankly at him and pushed a plate of a delicious-looking dish which actually tasted only slightly better than soggy rice crackers. She then promptly planted her face on the table and only looked to her side when the dwarf arrived.

“ How that taste? “ she asked regarding the venison.

Since it was very close to just being a base ingredient cooked over godsknowwhat, that piece of venison could possibly taste good unless the landers managed to screw that up as well. The last person to arrive in their little party so far was a fairly normal-looking adventurer who introduced himself as Ragna. Rather polite, Caerbannog noted. Still, the girl’s head was down on the table just beside her plate upon which a tall pile of food was placed earlier. She did not want to move an inch. The crappy food was not what she expected from such a pretty place... her day was ruined. Ruined!

OOC Notes: ---
Word Count: 482
Tags: @dindeen @0x1dea Scoria Kumori Ragnarok Elkeid Shepard Dagon

[Deleted]

HP: 100% MP: 100% Status: A Waste of Money, A Waste of Time The first bite of the feast could be adequately described as satisfying blend of severe disappointment and bankruptcy. Oxford stared blankly at the ceiling, a 'chicken wing' (if that's what could call it) dangled from his lips, absent-mindedly chewing on it as he counted his missing gold. Was Oxford gonna take this lying down? No. Hell no. He slammed his hands down on the table, ready to ring the neck of the restaurant's management, but stopped when he noticed the small gathering that had them surrounded. The faces he recognized were the glaring Scoria from his scouting mission in Sarum, and the busty brewer Elkeid from his time spent helping her with her on-the-spot lemonade initiative. (Felt more like part-time indentured servitude...) Among the faces he didn't recognize were a gloomy-looking Wolf-Hair, a dwarf straight out of a Tolkien fantasy, and a younger Adventurer. He didn't know them for now, but he had a feeling that this group would turn into a rowdy bunch as time went on. Provided that they had decent food, at least. Anyways, back to angered slamming of the hands. Oxford rose from his seat and spoke to the gathering, surprised that he did so, since normally he'd keep quiet and keep his thoughts to himself. This was different, since the Guardian felt responsible for making sure that the planned festivities did not disappoint. (Even though I'm pretty sure Caer dragged most of these guys out here...) "If you'll excuse me, I'll go see if I can find some actual food." Feeding on sludge (and at such a high price) was a crime punishable by death. The Guardian stormed out through the doors with the words 'Landers Only', demanding to see the con-man who thought they could get away with this unholy enterprise. "OI! WHERE'S THE BASTARD WHO THOUGHT THEY COULD GET AWAY WITH THIS?!" The kitchen was now full of terrified Lander chefs, trembling at the towering, raging man that burst through their doors. One of the chefs came forward, a Lander girl, trembling as she did so. (Whoops, might've gotten carried away with my entrance there...) "I'm terribly sorry, sir. Normally, we would prepare the food in our usual way, but before our grand opening, management was switched out at the last possible moment. The new manager insisted on us using the crafting method, saying that it wouldn't make a difference whether the food had taste or not." As if on cue, a fat, waddling pig of a man attempted to slink out of the establishment, clutching a fat satchel of gold. He stood out about as much as an obese man at a fitness club, which might've been the reason why he was sneaking out. Probably not. Oxford crashed through the kitchen, knocking over various unused kitchen utensils as he chased after the man-pig. He emerged from the back door as the belly with legs tried to high-tail it out of there. Oxford casually walked up behind the panting, wheezing Lander and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, slamming him against the wall. "So, King Henry VIII, what's the deal with this restuarant? It's not enough that you own the place, but now you need to own your customers' wallets as well?" He waited for a reply, but all he got from the man was some sort of guttural whimpering, sounding like a wounded whale as he squirmed to get out of Oxford's iron grip. The nasty smell of urine hit the Guardian's nostrils, the land whale showing signs of wetting his pants. The Lander grabbed Oxford's shirt as a desperate attempt to free himself, but that was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. "Nobody, I mean nobody, touches this shirt..." He grabbed the satchel from the shoddy manager and lovingly deposited him in the nearest garbage outpost, his scent fitting in with the rest of the rubbish. He dug through the satchel, pulling out the gold he payed from before, also managing to find the deed to the place. He waved it through the air as he reentered the kitchen door. "This restaurant's under new management and I'm making a couple of changes here. From now on, this restaurant's only to cook ACTUAL food, like any restaurant should. Also, if I find anyone trying to slack off and 'cooks' the crappy crafting food, I will personally drag you outside the gates and beat the AI out of you until you cry 'I AM ERROR'!" "Y-Yessir!" The Lander chefs scrambled back to their positions, each one grabbing the various utensils and ingredients needed to perform their craft. Despite showing signs of intimidation, the NPCs actually seemed happy to be preparing food in the way they've always done. The wonderful sounding of sizzling and delightful smells began to fill the air as Oxford walked back to the depressed group. Now it's time for Oxford to do something weird and unexpected. Using the strength granted to him as a Guardian, the bespectacled young man lifted the table, promptly dumping the contents of the failure of a feast out the door. "Sorry about the commotion. The actual feast should be coming out any minute now." The chefs burst through the door, each one laying a platter of some delicacy on the table, greatly increasing the spirits of the group. Speaking of spirits, the barkeeps had also laid out a variety of drinks, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. The lead chef from before leaned on Oxford's chair as she whispered to him. "I'm very sorry for all the trouble you went through. The meal's free of charge." Not wanting to be seen as some sort of man who bullies others, he took out the gold payment he recollected and handed it back to the chef. "Go ahead and keep it. Consider it as a wager, since I'm betting you'll do a lot better managing this restaurant than the last guy." He slipped the deed to the place into her hands, giving her a kind smile before she bowed deeply as a gesture of thanks. Oxford turned back to the group, some of them reaching for the feast, others for the drinks. Despite all that happened, Oxford felt that this event was only the tip of the evening's iceberg. Words: 1044 OOC Notes: TL;DR - Oxford was the owner of a restaurant for 5 whole minutes. Tags: @dindeen @0x1dea Scoria Elkeid Shepard Dagon Kumori Tobin Ragnarok

[Scoria]

Scoria's sharp glare deepened and set itself permanently on his face as the embers of his eyes settled on the arrival of a certain monk. His expression became permanently sour as more arrivals slowly filled up the area. Caerbannog sure had a lot of friends and it quickly became apparent to Scoria that this wasn't an adventuring party, but rather an actual party. A rather plain looking character, Shepard, as well as that a rather short girly-boy with super long hair sat down soon after. Scoria was mildly surprised that Kumori sat so close to him, before he turned and asked Caerbannog his question. Ah, that was why he sat so close. Scoria noted the dismayed expression on Caerbannog's face, as well as the arrival of a dwarf. Those were rare, but Scoria didn't stare. Whether they were Wolf Hair, Half-Alv, or Dwarf, people were people. He judged them on how often they screwed up. Although he did mentally applaud the newbie's sense of humor in regards to Tolkien lore. Ragna's arrival more or less rounded out the party and Scoria did what Scorias do.

He just glared at all of them and tilted his head just the slightest as a greeting, sending the sharpest of looks at Elkeid. If he wasn't careful, that cow was going to fight him right here and now. Probably a good thing his forest sprite wasn't around for this. Caerbannog's words brought him back to reality and he felt the disappointment in her gaze at him. How was this his fault? She had invited him! Augh, this half-sized brat. Like Oxford, Scoria was suckered into this. If he was honest to himself, he might have admitted that he did want to taste good food and did want things to go well. Things like music and food were some of life's simplest pleasures. He wasn't honest to himself, however, so he got up slowly after Oxford's uncharacteristic slam of hands against the table. Had Oxford been that type of character all along?

Scoria's expression wasn't nearly as angry. No, to put it more accurately, Oxford's expression had a far larger range of obvious expressions. Scoria's glare had only deepened and darkened as he followed the Guardian as 'backup'. He somehow got the feeling Elkeid would be spying on him if he was too obvious about this whole deal, but he didn't bother to avoid following behind Oxford, straight into the kitchen.

SPOILER: Click to show

{ON AN ADVENTURE!}It seemed like Oxford was more intimidating than Scoria, however. He was a lot more enthused than the Courtesan, who closed the door behind him and leaned against a central pillar, activating a new skill in his repertoire. Celebrity Concubine. Who the hell came up with that name though? Still, the force of his presence and the muttered, "I'd listen to him" under his breath caught the attention of every Lander within 10 meters. Which was basically everyone. Scoria continued to follow along behind Oxford as he moved, carefully replacing the displaced objects and glaring at anyone who got in his way.

They got the picture. Scoria just followed along through the back door, eavesdropping like a true Courtesan. He stepped right out of the way on Oxford's way back, having caught nothing but something about not touching his shirt. He wasn't that obvious. The Courtesan stayed in the kitchen, even after Oxford had left, and glanced at the door. No one was around, right? Right. Scoria turned around, activating Allure on the Lander girl that Oxford had previously been talking to. Fishing out a hefty sum of money, Scoria spoke clearly. "Payment. Under no circumstances will you tell that man you were paid. Tell him it's free of charge. Even if he pays you, tell him it's free of charge. And under no circumstances is this establishment to go bankrupt. I expect to be able to purchase your food in the future. Are we clear?" Scoria's expression hardened as it moved from glaring at the 'head chef' to the rest of the Landers, his presence sticking out like a sore thumb in the kitchen.

This was how it always was, really. He was sure Oxford could take care of himself, and he certainly didn't doubt the man's ability to proverbially "beat the AI out of a Lander", but he had never been able to keep his nose out of other people's business. He didn't know Oxford that well either and doing 'clean up' had always been his job. This was his nature. Scoria cracked his knuckles and went to go clean up the trash. He was a Courtesan, after all, bullying Landers was basically in his job description. Speaking of Landers, Scoria stepped outside to the rather portly Lander. Oxford had done a good job of intimidating the man, but the Lander hadn't seen much of Scoria at all, except for the first usage of Celebrity Concubine. For that reason, he rolled out of the trash and gruffly greeted Scoria, saying something about having a bad day and what the hell did he want and whatnot. How intimidating. Really. "The straight and narrow calls. Fix yourself up. Find a new place of work." Allure. Knot of Leverage. The Lander didn't quite understand and Scoria glared right back, right up until said Lander got a little aggressive. Taking all of someone's money and leaving them in a trash can usually didn't go so well, Oxford. If the Guardian was going to learn to be a bully, Scoria would have to teach him a few tips.

The Lander moved his hand roughly to Scoria's shoulder, squeezing hard before finding himself stunned and having taken damage. Scoria just continued to look down on the whale, tipping the stunned Lander over with a shove. Allure. "Employment. Elsewhere. Buy a clean shirt. Don't let me catch you causing trouble." Scoria tossed some gold at the man, enough for him to rent a room in the worse parts of town. That was the kind of person Scoria was. He got involved, almost like it was a compulsion. His compulsion was now having him throw money at the very man who had attempted to cheat them all in the first place. The threat lingered in the air until the Lander finally nodded and walked off, the inability to even fight back against Scoria forcing him to leave. Scoria left through the back exit, glancing through his interface and investigating the status of his summon. Alraune was still alive, draining his mp. All good on that front.

Walking around to the front of the building, walking back in through the front door and watching Oxford and that Lander Girl exchange money and what looked like some sort of paper. Probably related to what he saw before. He really shouldn't have followed after Oxford like that, but something about the Guardian made Scoria want to get into a swag battle with hi-

No. No, he did not. That was not what he wanted at all. Something about Oxford bugged him though. Scoria moved back into his seat firmly, sitting down and speaking with a deliberate tone. The kind that, when coupled with a high level Courtesan, gave off the impression he expected his words to be taken at face value and not questioned. He wasn't in the mood for guessing games. "I went to check on the kids." It wasn't a lie. He did have to check on Alraune, who in turn was playing with the neighborhood children. If her mana expenditure didn't increase and she was still summoned and if the link was still stable, then the kids were alright. That and he did think of the forest sprite as part of his gang, so he wasn't too far in saying she was his 'kid'.

Hopefully Oxford didn't rat him out. Scoria threw a deliberate glance at the other Scribe, before reaching out to carefully try some of the... salad. Scoria was a little boring like that, and his forest sprite hadn't seemed to mind when he ate salad in front of her before, so it was whatever.

[Tags: so many tags @dindeen @0x1dea Scoria Elkeid Shepard Dagon Kumori Tobin Ragnarok ]

[Elkeid]

The large table was slowly growing crowded as more people - foreign to Elk gathered around. Elkeid didn't know if they were all friends of the little pipsqueak sandwiched between Oxford and that bastard, Scoria, or if this was a giant "free for all." She squinted indiscriminately at them all, regardless of their demeanors or statures, like the dwarf that saddled in second to last. She expected to see a flock of uninvited dwarfs and one frazzled looking hobbit tagging along with him, but this wasn't a high fantasy novel with Catholic themes. It occurred to her a few moments later that she and the little Samurai were the only women seated at the table, and two of the surliest people in the room had her boxed in (along with Ox). Having Scoria sitting beside her was probably worse, though.

There was a "feast" and drinks being served, apparently all on Oxford's tab. She briefly wondered if Ox could even afford it, but decided she didn't care; if he was foolish enough to allow himself to foot the bill, he had better have the funds to back it up. She was a little too old to be dining and dashing - "What the hell is this?" Elk had taken a sip from her drink, or what she thought was a drink. Did that incompetent waiter bring her dishwater or, God forbid, piss? She cast a wary eye at the food laid out on the table, then to Oxford and the girl, who both appeared to be very unimpressed with their meal. Elk didn't need to try the food to know that it was as shitty as she thought it would be.

If Elkeid was annoyed, then Oxford was downright livid. The man slammed the palms of his hands against the tabletop before announcing that he was going to get them some real food. She honestly didn't figure him to be the forceful type, but his money had been trifled with, and money was nothing to joke about. Scoria following wasn't exactly surprising, either, but a tad worrisome; she had seen firsthand how the man dealt with Landers. 'They served us garbage - I don't care what he does to them.' Nor did she show any mercy on the waiter that dared to approach them and ask how their meal was.

Elkeid swirled the liquid in her glass around, glancing over to the Samurai - Caerbannog's disappointed countenance - and back to the waiter. Without blinking, the woman reached up and seized the man by his tie, dragging him down until his chin was only a few inches above the table. "Extremely unsatisfied." She placed her drink under his nose. "What is this? It smells like piss - or ink."

The waiter made a poor attempt to right himself, prompting Elk to hold on tighter. As long as she had him by the neck like this, he could not move. "I-it's the drink you ordered, miss-"

"I asked for strong liquor, not dirty dishwater. What are you people trying to pull?" He gave her some crap about the bartender being inexperienced, but Elk knew system made liquor when she tasted it. This guy knew what was up, and was trying to cover for his associate. He stopped babbling when she tugged hard on his tie and caused his forehead to collide with the hard wood of the table. "Oops. How clumsy of me." She shoved the man back and released her grip on his throat, but seized the front of his trousers and dumped the false liquor down his waistband. He squealed a bit as the liquid soaked its way through the crotch of his pants and down his pants leg. "Ask me again how the meal is."

The waiter stood back and smoothed down the front of his uniform, trying to appear dignified and not as if he had just added his own bodily fluids to the one she dumped in his pants. The man scuttled off stiff legged towards the kitchen, presumably to tattletale on her (which would only result in her waiting until he got off so she could give him a sound beating), and was slammed in the face by the door Ox strode out from. There was something oddly attractive about the Guardian now, likely because he had just thrown his weight around, like the table of cruddy food he was taking outside.

When their table was returned, the lander chefs ran in and laid out what might actually be food and drinks. Elk ignored the food to pick up a cocktail, which she squinted at and sniffed before sipping. This time she was granted with some actual flavor - a hint of lemon, a lot of orange, and what tasted like actual vodka. "Acceptable." She was sure she could make a better one, but it was a great step up from the cat piss she had the misfortune of tasting earlier.

coded by benetnasch of ET

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Words:
826

Muse:
#SELFIE

Notes:
Let me take a selfie.

Tags:
@dindeen, Kumori, @0x1dea, Ragnarok, Scoria & Shepard Dagon

[Shepard Dagon]

Heating Up the Night.

Things were going way too fast and the night didn't even started, Shepard was already feeling sorry for the poor landers that were in the building at that moment. Caer's face was telling everything to everyone, her disappointment could be easily seen by an almost tangible dark aura around her figure, thing that soon dropped down Shepard's frame of mind, but quickly the shaman spotted two familiar faces, both assassins made it almost at the same time, Kumori and Ragnarok... it was weird, did they came together? 

The not so loud addition of the dwarf to the party partially surprised Shepard, the experiences he had with the dwarf players wasn’t quite pleasant, as most of them were aggressive or lacked the ability of touch in a social mean, but this one was kind of different, even quite polite… in his own way, but it stills count.  

Everyone took their sits... but the tension in the air could be cut in the air with an spoon, yes, an spoon would be enough, or some chopsticks; back to the issue, the depression filled the air in the area as soon as everyone took a bite of their food… The inevitable expression of that thing between disappointment and sadness peeked in Shepard’s eyes, he really expected something better for the fair amount of gold he paid, but he surely won’t say a single thing to anyone, as he didn’t liked to moan about this kind of thing. 

And it wasn’t necessary at all, the intense sound of Oxford’s fists colliding with the table startled Shepard, resulting in a series of flying plates, forks and knifes, dangerously landing near Kumori’s hands and lap, the remorse was obvious, yet the shaman overly apologized while he looked how Oxford rose and got straight to the kitchen, terrorizing the landers that worked there, once he got in the kitchen some guttural screams accompanied with a chirp that was very much like a pig being held and took to the slaughter room came from the inside; no he didn’t… he couldn’t... he wouldn’t… Shepard felt ashamed for the way everything went…  

A rather scary looking lander came just seconds after Oxford went back to his chair with a cart full of deliciously looking food… intimidation seems to work, but it wasn’t something Shepard would do… instead the wolf bowed as a sign of apology to the lander, but the worst was yet to come. 

The vicious human monk released all her anger just after a sip of her cup, the poor waiter was humiliated, and that was something even Shepard couldn’t let pass; pissed, Shepard stood and looked to the human, maybe he wasn’t high level enough to stand in a duel if something went wrong, but he didn’t care at all. 

-Shepard- 

Apology to that man, that wasn’t a reason to humiliate him like that. 

Shepard’s sight was fixed to the human; he remembered how he was humiliated every day and how it felt, that was too much and wanton. 

He felt the eyes of the entire party on him but it meant nothing, they night might be ruined again because of his fault, but the things had to be clear. 

-Shepard- 

I don’t want to ruin anybody’s night, but it’s something I can’t stand. 

His eyes still fixed on her, with a little touch of gold spots appearing in their surface, bullies, the only thing he hated more than anything. If the thing didn’t change, for everyone convenience he would just leave the restaurant and let everybody have fun, but for the time being he needed an apology to the waiter coming from her mouth, even if it was a false one. Oxford at least had the gesture of giving them the gold he recovered from the old manager, but the “acceptable”… such arrogance… even hurting the man just because he was trying to cover his associate, no, at least not while Shepard was there, a drowned growl could be barely heard every time the wolf breathed, it was not the kind of first impression he wanted to give, but it wasn’t something he could help no matter how much he wanted. 

Tags: Kumori @dindeen @0x1dea Scoria Elkeid Ragnarok Tobin
Word Count : 700

[Kumori]

Kumori HP: 100% MP: 100%

"In order to live, I will continue to fight. In order to retain my humanity, I will continue to destroy those who mean to harm my friends."

The entrance of two newcomers came after him. First it was a dwarf who had invited himself to the table. Ryuu scratched his head, but he figured “the more the merrier”. In addition, it seemed that Ragnarok had also invited himself to their table. While Ryuu wanted to thrust his head into the table, he refrained and smiled at the both of them and welcoming them to their private party. Ah well, as he figured before, the more the merrier.

Oh boy. Things were not going as planned, and he could tell from the reaction Kyuu made when she bit into the food and then gave it to him. He then looked at the Scotch he ordered and looked at it carefully, then looking towards Elkeid who had ordered a drink as well, and pretty much revolted when the ‘liquor’ touched her lips. He set the drink back down and sighed as he was going to be disappointed by the scotch he ordered. Before he could ask the waiters or waitresses if they could find something a bit better, a hand slammed onto the table. Ryuu, with his quick reaction, kicked his chair out and stood up, away from the flying food that had been projected off the table. He sighed and looked at the man who did it. “Reall-,” he started, but wasn’t even able to finish his system when the Guardian and the Druid marched off to the kitchen. “Oh come on… we haven’t even gotten drunk yet…” he said in their direction. He sighed, as there were obviously better ways of coming to an understanding with the landers. He then looked towards Elkeid who had done a similar thing, but to the waiter that had asked how everything was tasting. Ryuu watched her, trying to think of something to stop her from pouring her piss-water into his pants, but it was too late. Ryuu put his palm to his head and shook his head. This was becoming a disaster. These people were arrogant, self-centered pricks, and all he could do was shake his head.

“Can we try not to make everyone in this restaurant hate us?” he asked aloud to those closest to him. With what was going on, he doubted anyone would hear it. He looked at Elkeid and shook his head. Shepard had told her to apologize to the waiter, and Ryuu echoed the sentiment. He told raised his arm in front of Shepard so that he knew Ryuu was going to take care of it. “Was that really necessary? You could have simply asked for a better one since you were dissatisfied… Have you not eaten at a restaurant in the real world? Has your status as an adventurer made you so arrogant that you can do that to a person?” he said, and then he looked at both Oxford and Scoria as well. “Both of you as well! These are people, just like you and me. Yes, they used to be programs, but they aren’t anymore. Yes, we have power, but does that mean we have to lord over them because we can? No!” he said in an increasing volume. He was getting annoyed at the lot of them for acting this way. Had they thrown away their manners and replaced it with barbarism? Ryuu took out several gold pieces and went to the waiter that Elkeid had soiled with her previous drink. He paid the man about 30 gold pieces as an apology. “Sorry about the woman, earlier. Consider this a personal tip from me, as an apology for her actions. Thank you for your service,” he said to him. The waiter thanked him and went back to work after changing into new clothes. Ryuu turned back around towards the table and watched as a new set of food and a woman who attempted to repay Oxford for what he had given earlier.

“Now, let’s try not to treat these people like trash, and try to enjoy our time here. We’re here to have a party… their jobs are hard enough as it is with us buying out the place. Don’t make me throw you out… because I will,” he said.

OOC NOTES: 699 words

Made by Sifr of GS, Synesthesia and Adoxography.

[Tobin]

-OOC: Hardly had any time to self this weekend. So not really proof read. Also brought up a interesting group exercise, though if you want to run with it, suggest rules. XD. 654 words-

Perhaps blinded by a sense of optimism, the Strider was more or less content to put up with stares and glances at his somewhat typical appearance. As long as he had any taste of home it was likely to be worth it and he winked at the squinted glare of the busty monk, if only to witness a sign of repulsion. Aside from the venison, several items had been gathered on his plate, including gammon, mushrooms, beef and other royalties that could be considered luxury items in a more primitive day were amassed on his plate and. despite previous poor experiences was ravenous for orial stimulation, though shoving the grey meat in his mouth caused his expression to sour as the optimism faded in an instant. A begrudging swallow was followed by the tasting of the other items, each with the same, carbon identical taste that made his soul tingle with the cold sensation of dread.

-All the taste of chicken, all the texture of a sock? The cooking has actually made this food taste terrible-

This harrowing consumption of condensed misery made him aware of the experiences repeated around the table, with an overwhelming silence soon giving ways to murmurs of discontent. Irritated and perhaps frantic to taste something of flavour that didn’t taste of a royal log, he stabbed into the roasted hunk of venison, ripping it in half with a ripping motion and took a bite into it, his hardened features softened as a richer, leaner flavour emerged from the course fibres, leaking from the flesh with every grind of his molars. Even if on most days it’s flavours would be most dismissible, after chewing logs for the last few days any flavour was comparable to licking the holy grail itself.

“ How that taste? “ Tobin’s gaze flickered to glance at the diminutive samurai, her deathly aura of misery seeming to reach around the table, by now the immense guardian had left the table and was lead a glorious crusaide into the kitchens, he emitted a soft chuckle “Compared to everything else? Decent, try some-” As he carved it up he noticed her gamertag, Caerbannog, and chuckled despite himself having already received a reminder of home, a really classical movie, “-at least it’s likely better than the grass we be cuttin’ with our sharp teeth’.”


The lull in activity as the table was cleared of the garbage enabled him to look around the table and consider some of the other people. Most players typically had level’s that varied between 11 and 25 and brought attitudes as varied as the British weather itself, a curious hand rested underneath his chin as he scanned the faces with a distant curiosity, especially interested in the commotion that was focused around the monk and gentle sharman, the interest was subsequently when a mountain of glorious food that was arrayed before them, the dwarf lightly carving a slice of gamon as he tasted it, his eyes seemed to widen and rolled back, staring at the roof as he almost whimpered, the salty rich meAt seemed to touch a deep nerve within his soul.

“My soul… Is saved.” He paused, considering he was mumbling out loud, “can’t we at least get a little pastered before we go through the bar fighting motion? Perhaps a game of Ring of Fire” He paused, perhaps giving the somewhat orcish posturing that was going around the table, perhaps introducing a drinking game would relieve the tension, at least it had seemed to work on more student minded Britians for a time, at least enough time to consume more of the feast before the threat of being chucked out. “ a deck of 52 trading cards around a large glass, with each card drawn a small portion is added to the centre glass. Poor sod who breaks the ring has to drink it all, plus a question for each card drawn.”

[Ragnarok]

Mass Destruction before we've even started. Is this Hell?

    A group of eight different minds. Ragnarok looked through each of them as soon as he sat and continued to hold this facade of a kind smile up. If he was at least able to make a kind introduction to everyone, then there wouldn't be any problems. His analysis of the situation soon began, starting with bringing up the profile data on each of the seven members around the table. He started from random directions, quickly overlooking who they were.

    "Hmm, so far so good. No one's bad-mouthed me...Yet...Well, there is that one guy with that annoyed face. His name's...Score-e-a? Scoria? I think that's how you pronounce it. He might be some trouble based on his looks. Then there's that woman with the looks that could attract any man. Her name's El-kaid...Elkeid?...Right? Geez, these names require a rigorous amount of practice in pronunciation to actually pronounce them."

    Ragnarok sighed as he went through the rest of them. He soon found that the personalities of them were revealed. He saw that Caerbannog, a Final Fantasy-esque level of name, was slumped down onto the table, crestfallen due to what appeared to be the lack of food. Even the water here gave a sour look on everyone's face, but this was soon solved by a little hand from one of the members. Ragnarok saw the burly Guardian, Oxford, pound on the table with both of his fists, knocking platters of food off as well as some drinks, where Ragnarok's own had leaped off and dropped onto his lap, pouring its insides all over him. Angered by the water leaking into the threads of his leggings, he rushed to the napkins to clean the spill. Ragnarok, in his spite, noticed that Oxford and Scoria had taken off to the kitchen to "right" the wronging of the food. Only moments later did he hear a cry from what Ragnarok could guess would be the owner of this degrading establishment.

    "Geez...The food here isn't great as noted by everyone's expression, and we're already causing a commotion. Hopefully we can just calm down, and maybe Oxford and Scoria will get things solved diplomatically, and not through war."

    The young Assassin sighed, placing the crushed napkins back on the table. He noted the existence of the semi-gay, LordBiscuit. Ragnarok chuckled under his breath at the abnormal naming of the character, but the Assassin's enjoyment of the moment was cut short as the troublesome Elkeid had smashed an approaching waiter's forehead into the table itself. "Oops. How clumsy of me."  This moment made the Assassin's blood boil with an ever-increasing fury. He just wanted to tackle her, beat her until she couldn't feel pain, but then that would only cause more chaos for the group. Shepard and Kumori were already on her for the deed, and he would only make it worse if he jumped in.

    "Tch...I just want to smack her across the face for doing that. The People of the Land are still people. I myself have had conversations with some of them, and they have lives. Hmph. Well, at least Kumori and Shepard can deal with her for now."

    Throughout the entire moment, Ragnarok had begun glaring at the woman. Despicable. His inner heart kept screaming at her, telling her to back the hell off, but he refused to speak to keep whatever peace there remained left. Only moments later, did Oxford and Scoria come back to the table, followed by a female waiter, who had received what appeared to be a slip of paper and a patch of gold. It was only when Scoria had taken a seat that Ragnarok finally realized that it was the deed to the place. He wondered what happened in the kitchen for him to receive the rights to this place, but before he could continue the thought, platters of foods and drinks rushed out. He hoped that it was actual gourmet this time, and after seeing the Dwarf and female cretin enjoy the drink and provender, Ragnarok had taken a glass of water, and began drinking. To his surprise, the taste was superb.

    "Wow. The water actually tastes good. There's a hint of some lemonade in there as well, making it all the more better. Hopefully the evening will get better from now on, but the relationships between each of us can be short at any time. Scoria's face is dislikable, Oxford seems to be the tough guy of the group, and Elkeid is the common nightmare. Well, let's just hope that things will get better from now on."

    Ragnarok glared at Elkeid and Scoria as he took another sip, but quickly brought his attention to the Dwarf's suggestion of a drinking game, this one called "Ring of Fire".

    "Hmm. That's not a bad idea, but I'd prefer not to drink any alcohol. We can play some kind of game though to celebrate these festivities we hold here."

WC: 828

[Deleted]

It felt as if a black hole had appeared in her very core. Her hope for a decent meal was gone. Not one ounce was left, and so for a while, Caerbannog just stared at a blank space on the wall beyond the dwarf, beyond the table, beyond the waiters and waitresses who walked around the restaurant. Liars, all of them. How could they crush the hopes and dreams of a simple samurai who just wanted a nice meal without having to cook it herself? Her emotional moment was, however, interrupted by Oxford’s sudden explosion. She’d never seen him like that before... well, not quite like that. There was that one time when he dueled with a crocodile and then those poor goblins.

Caerbannog was getting a bit confused what with the increased activity around her. She should have expected as much when she entered the restaurant though. What kind of new restaurant would not have a lot of people? Certainly not The King’s Throne. The half-alv guardian soon burst through the door to the kitchen and the samurai could hear what seemed to be yelling and such things. The ruckus was not quite enough to make her wolf hair features appear, but it was quite a scene nonetheless. At some point, she did notice Scoria’s glare at the people around him right before he got up just as Oxford left the table.

The pair took care of something in the kitchen and returned with supposedly delicious food. The wolf-hair picked at a plate of what seemed to be buttered vegetables and she cautiously tasted a piece; to her surprise, it actually tasted like... buttered vegetables! At that point, optimism and happiness flowed back into Caerbannog’s soul - or whatever was left of it after having murdered so many boars and goblins. She actually felt as if she could find humor in anything and everything, even if a meteor fell down upon their heads right then and there. But on that same table, something not quite humorous was about to unfold.

On the dark-haired woman’s end, it was obvious that her drink was just as bad as the food. She made quite a show of reprimanding the lander, and although Caerbannog would not do such a thing herself, she thought it understandable as to why the woman acted that way. If she was cheated out of her money too, the wolf-hair would probably throw one of her tantrums. After the samurai watched the scene, she would have laughed at the unfortunate lander if not for the interference of the familiar shaman.

- Oh Shepard... - she thought as Caerbannog just watched things unfold around the table.

As if that was not bad enough, Kumori also got up and lectured the woman too. Perhaps from their point of view, they were heroes, but from where the samurai sat all she saw was two grown men who decided that it was fine day to cut up a lady and sprinkle salt on her wounds too. One lecture was probably enough; two was just a punch to the face before the target of their words could even speak. So much for the speech about bullies and whatnot, to Caerbannog they weren’t any better than the woman who just threw bad liquor down a man’s pants. Even Ragna glared at the woman, but at least he kept his thoughts to himself. Though out of the rowdy group, the dwarf seemed to be enjoying himself... speaking of He-Who-Is-Shorter-Than-Caer, he suggested something pretty neat and just right for the occasion too. Or rather, he reminded the samurai of something that could diffuse the situation.

“ No... too complicated, “ the samurai said to the dwarf and then she quickly stood up and went into the kitchen while half the room was glaring at the dark-haired woman.

The landers in there were still very busy, perhaps busier than they were earlier, but Caerbannog did not have time to waste. Half of the occupants of their table might actually have a go at one another, so she had to do something. Why? Just because. So the samurai cut eight pieces of straws, one of which was longer than the others. She quickly returned to the table and hoped that no one died yet. Above any ruckus, Caerbannog suddenly screamed: “ Let’s play a game! “ She looked at Kumori and Shepard who had reprimanded the other members of their little party, and then at Oxford, Scoria and Elkeid. Finally, at the dwarf who was in high spirits and the guy named Ragna who did not seem all too impressed by the current situation.

“ A game... if you are King, you can make anyone do anything, “ the girl said, “ Eight rounds. Sounds fair? “

She then held up her hands- she needed two to hide the ends of the things what with her tiny digits and all- which seemingly had straws of equal length. Those who agreed to her terms could draw a straw and let fate decide how it should handle the situation. What Caerbannog forgot, and mostly because she already lost that memory due to her second death, was that the King’s Game usually associated with a drinking game. Perhaps Kumori would use that to his advantage and knock her out before she had the chance to get back at him or Shepard for calling her a fatty samurai. Sober Caerbannog was not usually vengeful but oh, drunk Caerbannog was that and a lot more.

OOC Notes: I made a randomizer using C# to draw for us. The first King is this person. /gg
Word Count: 920
Tags: @dindeen @0x1dea Kumori Scoria Ragnarok Elkeid Shepard Dagon Tobin

[Deleted]

HP: 100% MP: 100% Status: The Straw That Broke Oxford's Back Many things had happened when Oxford was away doing Guardian things, guarding everyone's happiness from the evil clucthces of the greedy food management opressor. He had hoped that the arrival of new food would lift everyone's spirits, but apparently that was not the case. A commotion had apparently broken out, Kumori and the Wolf-Hair named Shepard lecturing the brewer with the fine legs as she had apparently poured her drink down the man's pants. And helped him see the barcounter to examine it for impurities, as well. "You guys, just chill. Elk's known for doing stuff like that from time to time. Believe me, she let this one off easy compared to what she's done to others." He visibly shuddered as he remembered the poor werecat from their improvised lemonade business. (Now that I think about it, it wasn't her fault. The stall just happened to be haunted and had a thing for using cats as chairs.) The younger adventurer, one Oxford didn't recognized, just glared at her. At first he thought he was distracted by the mounds being barely contained underneath her shirt, but then he realized that he might have saw some teeth grinding. So it wasn't a fantasy day-dream stare, the one a healthy young man might have when he would see a woman like that. It was more of a glare that would cause your hair to shrivel and your teeth to fall out. (Boy, that stare could contain the boiling heat of a thousand suns gone supernova all at once.) He pulled out his notebook and made a note to not tick the kid off. As he placed his notebook back into his inventory, he noticed that he was still walking around with his armor. (No need for this formal wear.) He waved his hand, accessing his Equip menu to change out his armor with his treasured leaf-green shirt, and put on his Comfy Jacket. The player who crafted it also happened to be at this impromptu party as well. "Ahhh, that's much better." Oxford saw his arms before he had equipped his jacket. He noticed his forearms had become a little more muscular since he had started this game long ago, probably from the time he decide to fight a boar with his bare fists. (Too bad I can't take this body with me back to the real world...) Oxford gave a nod of thanks to Kumori as he put it on, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows so he wouldn't get any food on it. It cost him an arm and a leg, but now he had a jacket that could cover TWO arms! The legs weren't included. (Much better partying in this than bumbling around with the armor. That thing would have me sweating through this time.) He reached for an empty plate, immediately filling it with as much food as he could his hands on. A mountain of chicken wings, surrounded with fried slices of potatoes, the whole thing adorned with a glazing of hot sauce. Luckily, every kind of food seemed to be available, so he also grabbed himself a bowl of rice, along with another bowl of noodles. He also took a little bit of salad, having something healthy to slightly balance out the platters of heart attack. Oxford clapped his hands together as a gesture of thanks, the Japanese culture side of the Guardian kicking in as he let out an "Itadakimasu~" before digging into his generous servings. He decided to start with the noodles, grabbing a pair of wooden chopsticks. The delectable saucy noodles were less than an inch from his mouth when he heard Caer scream something about playing a game. He quickly stuffed the noodles into his mouth, slurping them up as he listened to Caer explain the rules. Oxford nearly choked when he heard that the King could make anyone else do anything. He nervously glanced at Elkeid, swearing that he saw her mouth curve slighty into a twisted smile. Downing the rest of his noodles as Caer made the straws, he plucked a wing from his food mountain, nibbling on it as she held out the finished product. (Oh please, don't let Elkeid be the King. Please don't let Elkeid be the King...) He grabbed his straw from the other adventurers, setting it down in front of him. He had no way of knowing whether his straw was short or long, so he waited as the other adventurers revealed theirs. As they did so, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, silently praying to God, or whatever being decided the players' fates, to grant him solace. The deity must not have been listening, because Elkeid's straw was clearly longer than everyone else's. Oxford slowly slumped in his chair, the wing in his mouth falling to floor. He muttered silent curses to himself, loud enough only for him to hear. "Damn. It's gonna be one of THOSE nights..." Words: 827 OOC Notes: I have random nightclub songs playing as I write my replies. Tags: @dindeen @0x1dea Scoria Elkeid Shepard Dagon Kumori Tobin Ragnarok

[Scoria]

As if Scoria would let that go so easily. He hadn't been back at the table by the time Kumori started his little speech and Shepard was more or less in the clear because he wasn't nearly as loud as the assassin, but Scoria caught enough of said assassin's words for his eyebrows to furrow. Congratulations on making a scene. Scoria had come in through the front and taken the long way around, while Oxford had shown up through the kitchen door, so Scoria's ears caught everything from 'Both of you as well' onwards. Scoria almost laughed. They weren't just programs, huh? If they weren't, then what the hell was his class. Huh? If they weren't able to be manipulated, if they were people just like the Adventurers, then what was it supposed to mean that Courtesans could more or less push Landers into doing things without any effort. He had yet to meet any Courtesans besides himself and that was probably for the best. Still, the thing that bothered Scoria most about Kumori's little speech was this.

"Yes, we have power, but does that mean we have to lord over them because we can? No!"

Those were the words of a Level 36 Assassin, so caught up in his self-righteous behavior and self-serving justice that he didn't realize what he was doing. He didn't realize that, as the second-highest level, as a so-called 'leader', as an Assassin with power, that was exactly what he was doing. The only difference was that he was doing it to Adventurers instead of Landers. Why didn't he just go ahead and take the 'hitman' subclass if he wanted to enact that kind of justice then. It was clearly okay to lord over and threaten someone as long as they weren't a Lander, right? Scoria's expression was the same glare it had always been when he moved to sit down, catching the very tail end of the interaction between Oxford and the lead chef. She was nice. He wasn't a bad bloke himself. Scoria might have almost made no reaction at all to what had occurred had Kumori not spoken. Again. He hadn't missed the assassin moving towards the Lander to pay him for something, nor had he missed the man's somewhat dirtied pants. It seemed they were both busybodies, but the way that Kumori did it... And that last thing Kumori had said. Scoria just stood there, a few feet away from sitting down, his eyes looking down at Kumori. Both literally and metaphorically, he was looking straight down on the Assassin. Had he been a bit more annoyed and had Kumori had a little less power to lord over other people, Scoria might have put a firm hand on his shoulder and said something like, 'Enough'. But he didn't. The reasons were numerous and not worth explaining, but Scoria simply decided there wasn't a need to. The endless glare of the other Assassin at the table, Ragna, and Shepard's looks at Elkeid weren't exactly missed, but Scoria was a little confused when Ragna turned that glare on him (all glaring at Elkeid was clearly justified).

What? What had he done? Scoria understood that maybe Kumori was a little heavy-handed (and downright assholish with that stick about 50 meters up his-), but he hadn't exactly done anything particularly wrong. Thinking back on his actions as he sat down next to Caerbannog, he tried to think. He had actually been fairly civil about the whole thing, raising his hand only once, and only for a shove. And in that case, hadn't the other party attacked first? Well, it wasn't like these guys knew that, but that was exactly the point. They didn't know a damn thing except that Oxford had given the lead chef the deed to the place and money for the meal despite her saying it was already paid for. And Scoria had paid her as well, making it a double count. It seemed the dwarf had some good ideas as well, but no matter what the current state of all involved were, Scoria couldn't think terribly of Oxford. He was really a pretty good dude about this. Maybe a little heavy-handed, but he wasn't going around lording over other people coughKumoricough.

And considering what he thought about Kumori for the moment and his buttbuddies, Shepard and Ragna, he didn't bother giving them more than a tiny wedge of credibility in regards to whatever hijinks Elkeid had pulled off. He could put pieces together if he needed to, but it was too much trouble and it seemed like the 'danger' was over. It was a good thing the dwarf was suggesting something, or things might have gotten a little bit out of control. Scoria felt a wee bit uncomfortable considering just how close in position he was to Kumori, but that seemed to be the consequence of wanting to sit nearby Caerbannog (and by extension, Oxford). Those two seemed to be the least affected by a superiority complex, some form of violent dysfunction, being prone to random glaring at people, or... whatever the hell Shepard's problem was. At the moment, his favorite four people were Caer, Oxford, the dwarf dude (Tobin?), and Elkeid. And when Elkied was on a list of Scoria's favorite people, there was some trouble afoot. Caerbannog was off in the kitchen doing something and Scoria almost went to follow her, but he opted out. Oxford had been loud when he left, but Caer's expression had done a 180 from before and she seemed fairly level-headed, even from that quest they had participated in. He was pretty sure she wasn't going to beat anyone up. When the Samurai returned with a scream, Scoria flinched and jolted in his seat. That was unexpected. Blinking and turning to look at Caer, Scoria's expression moved from neutral (which was just a lighter glare than usual) to focused (again, another kind of glare).

Ousama Game. Really. Of all the... And wasn't this a drinking game? It was a drinking game for sure. Well, the atmosphere was important at least. Scoria glanced over at a nearby Lander and made a motion. "Cider and... Beer? Wine? Non-alcoholic and alcoholic drinks both. Also... cold glass of milk for me, please." The waitress almost giggled at him, but Scoria glared and turned back to the table. There were pieces of straw on the table, it seemed, and they were all going to pull. Unlike Oxford, who was switching out to less formal wear, Scoria was wearing what Scoria had. The blazer and shirt combo that made him look like a school kid. All he needed now was a loose tie and some slacks. Scoria pulled a straw and made his own personal wish for who wouldn't be King, pulling his plate and murmuring a quiet 'Itadakimasu' under his breath. Oxford had done it and Scoria slipped straight into the habit as a result, piling about seven oranges onto his plate. Just oranges. He then grabbed a few leaves of lettuce. He wasn't a vegetarian, but that was what he wanted to eat, so... While Oxford was hoping Elkeid wouldn't be king, in the first round, Scoria was hoping that he wouldn't be. He wasn't creative at all and people weren't nearly wrapped up enough in this for him to be vicious. His other hope was that Kumori wouldn't be king either. After what he had seen and heard, he was almost certain that the man was going to be a bumbling nitwit and try to exact some form of reparation on Elkeid. Scoria was almost surprised when he felt the protective fire burn quietly in him, considering Elkeid had tried to pound him last time for a similar reason, but it was there.

When Elkeid's straw was clearly the largest, Scoria made a small shrug and began to peel an orange. At that time, the drinks he had asked for showed up. A variety of wines, beers, ciders, and one glass of milk for Scoria. Pulling it towards himself and sipping quietly, the man glared at anybody who even snickered. He liked milk. Shut up. Whatever. Elkeid was going to be king, so he'd see just how this went. Probably really badly. Excellent.

[Tags: @dindeen @0x1dea Elkeid Shepard Dagon Kumori Tobin Ragnarok @somanypeopleoml ]

[Elkeid]

Why was there a rabid dog barking at her…? Surely this restaurant did not permit rabid dogs, did it? "Hoh~?" Was he speaking to her? Elkeid gave him a curious look before examining his flapping lips and gnashing teeth. He was obviously upset about something - either the food or the way she had manhandled that waiter earlier. Both were viable options. Unless her lip reading skills were off (and her hearing alone could not be trusted yet), his speech wasn't exactly fluid, and the awkward phrasing his first sentence started off as threw her for another loop. '"Apology to?" Shouldn't that be 'apologize to'?' Was he a non-native English speaker, or just choosing to talk in a weirdly stilted way? The lad with the ponytail that interrupted the Shaman pup was a lot more coherent, but a bit...irritating? She understood his point, but he grew too preachy and talkative for her tastes.

To her surprise and annoyance, he stayed on his soapbox long enough to chew out Oxford and Scoria. As for what he said, she did not care enough to read his lips any further, and allowed his voice to become the soft wonk wonk wonk of Charlie Brown adults to her ears. She gave a soft sigh of relief as she pressed the cool glass of her cocktail's cup to her forward, where a dull throbbing had begun. If she was still capable of getting drunk, the longwinded Mr. Ponytail would have killed her buzz by now. Oxford didn't seem too bothered, which was relief. And Scoria was...Scoria was Scoria, and her opinion of him was already low enough as it is.

Unlike Oxford, who had piled his plate high with several greasy and fried foods, Elkeid opted for something healthier and lighter - freshly diced fruit mixed together. She scooped some onto her plate, along with some of the neglected salad mix. The salad was a bit lacking, but the fruit was juicy and naturally sweet. Some of it also (mysteriously) its way onto Oxford's plate, which was Elk's way of trying to add something that wasn't meat, pasta or fried in grease to the man's meal. The small bunch he had gathered was not nearly enough in her opinion, and she was in the process of staging a surprise via a fruit heavy fork when the girl on the other side of him suddenly called out.

Elk nibbled at the fruit on her fork as Caerbannog explained the rules of a game she wanted to play. It was clever of the girl, given the tension their current company was giving off. 'A game of kings, eh?' A game like this sounded like it could dangerous - morally and physically. The lack of any "buts" to Caer's rules made her slightly uneasy, and Scoria was mostly to blame. She had almost hit his weird little familiar with the bottle intended for his head, and he in turn had tried shoving her turtle duck, Blackcoat, onto the cold and unforgiving ground. A man like Scoria was sure to have some rather seedy orders on his mind - not that she was any better.

When the straws were offered, Elk took hers and sat back to study it. Her straw seemed to be longer than others, which meant that she was the winner. Elkeid blinked for a moment in silence, before uttering a soft "Hoh~." This amused her greatly, for she was not expecting to be chosen first or at all. Her luck with games like these were rarely good.

Elkeid held up her stick for all to see. "Luck be a lady tonight~." Now, what should be her first order of business? The tips of the faux rabbit ears on her head gave the illusion of faint twitching as she pondered on what orders to give. She twirled the stick around in her fingers, before aiming it at the dwarf, Tobin. The man was apparently a Monk as well, which she found to be funny. He was also one of the few people at this table that seemed unaffected by the mood of the table. "I don't know if you're musically inclined, but I'd still like to hear you sing an uplifting song." That was a pretty tame first order, but she was of course just getting warmed up. "It appears that I am in need of a footstool," she said, glancing over to Ox. "I suppose you can serve as the 'royal' footstool." Without further ado, Elk shifted around in her seat until she was facing Oxford, and swung her legs up and into his lap. Things were only going to get worse from here.

She raised a hand and flagged down a waitress, who quickly came trotting over. "I would like…" She whispered her orders into the woman's ear, and watched as the waitress hurried off, snagging two others and moving into the kitchen. "Wait for it…" Thirty seconds later, the three waitresses returned with two, strong looking waiters, who were carrying a keg of unidentified liquor with them. The waitresses held trays: one bore three small shot glasses, the second a lone lemon wedge in a small bowl of liquid, and the third's consisted of several tools, such as a hose and a funnel.

"The lemon wedge soaked in vodka is for the Samurai - " she jabbed a thumb at Caer. "Scoria is to do the tequila shots with hot sauce, Kumori does the keg stand, and the pup (Shep) and Ragnarok are to tenderly hold one another - for a full minute - to defeat their hate with feelings of love." As she issued the orders and pointed out the victims, the waitresses and waiters moved over to their respective targets. The two waiters set the keg down, and one moved over to help Kumori, while the other prepared the keg. Elkeid's lips curled into a smirk as she watched the fall out. Even if they did not comply, their reactions would be enough to please her.

coded by benetnasch of ET

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[newclass=.alkaid]background-color:#050505; border: 2px solid #050505; border-radius: 5px; overflow: hidden; width: 100px; height:6px;[/newclass]

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Words:
1005

Muse:
Happiness

Notes:
I'm using bold for inflections in speech, btdubs.

Tags:
@dindeen, Kumori, @0x1dea, Ragnarok, Scoria, Shepard Dagon & Tobin