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Morbid Curiosity.
Wed Feb 08, 2023 2:58 am
https://www.narutoroleplaygame.com/t53732-what-is-your-flavor
Mission Name: What is your Flavor?
Rank:[/b] D
Mission Location: Universal
Challenges: N/A
Task: A local connoisseur in foods and cuisine is trying to find a new flavor to enjoy. He has tried everything from snacks to haggis and bat meat to sock tarts. He loves to explore new foods from all around the world, but he has been a bit too hasty in his efforts. It seems that he has eaten new foods for every meal for the last twenty years and has lost track of all the foods he has and has not eaten. He is looking for something that will truly signify a mark in his experiences. Something that will stand out above all else. Whether that is good or bad, he wants it to mark a new revolution in his explorations!
That is where you come in.
He has invited you to his home where thousands of different foods, ingredients, and meals have been put together. You are allowed to combine, improve, unimprove, disprove, underprove, mix, flatten, squeeze, chop, bake, boil, and whatever else you can imagine to create a brand new experience for him. The only rule is, no brussels sprouts. In his exact words: GREEN ORBS OF DOOM. Be as creative as you want and deliver the completed food to him. If he likes it enough to want more, then you have succeeded.
Word Count Requirement: 1000
Reward: 2000 Ryo / 10 AP
Character Requirements: N/A
Deeb Ajin's Statistics.
Mission Name: What is your Flavor?
Rank:[/b] D
Mission Location: Universal
Challenges: N/A
Task: A local connoisseur in foods and cuisine is trying to find a new flavor to enjoy. He has tried everything from snacks to haggis and bat meat to sock tarts. He loves to explore new foods from all around the world, but he has been a bit too hasty in his efforts. It seems that he has eaten new foods for every meal for the last twenty years and has lost track of all the foods he has and has not eaten. He is looking for something that will truly signify a mark in his experiences. Something that will stand out above all else. Whether that is good or bad, he wants it to mark a new revolution in his explorations!
That is where you come in.
He has invited you to his home where thousands of different foods, ingredients, and meals have been put together. You are allowed to combine, improve, unimprove, disprove, underprove, mix, flatten, squeeze, chop, bake, boil, and whatever else you can imagine to create a brand new experience for him. The only rule is, no brussels sprouts. In his exact words: GREEN ORBS OF DOOM. Be as creative as you want and deliver the completed food to him. If he likes it enough to want more, then you have succeeded.
Word Count Requirement: 1000
Reward: 2000 Ryo / 10 AP
Character Requirements: N/A
Deeb Ajin's Statistics.
Re: Morbid Curiosity.
Wed Feb 08, 2023 5:56 am
The gourmand shifted in his seat, nervously waiting at his table. Idle curiosity; and how it manifested, was a fascination of Deeb's. He pensively stared at the connoisseur, who had demanded a unique experience. Deeb had wondered, if he; the connoisseur, was worthy of tasting divine cuisine. The glutton spoke with the gusto one may muster when passionate about food. Deeb listened politely, hearing few of his words between the mouthfuls of food. "Ten'der, swe't, and eaz-e to chew." The Connoisseur critiqued every bite; after a hard-swallow and a short breath, but proceeded to eat, as if compelled to. Out of frustration, and congestion, however, he stopped his fervorous consumption. He called for his maid who usually poured him his wine; who did not answer or attend. The thirsty man was about to leave the table, when Deeb quickly supplied a small flask of sake. The man expertly complimented Deeb on his table service, but also passed a boisterous comment; that was not heard, by any save the horned man. "Th'nk que, bu'h, I ha' servants fer tha'." The gourmand, having been so delighted in Deeb's cooking, laughed and asked about the process each piece of meat went through. "How, ah, didge yah geh' teh pawk to be sah jewcy, an' the lahmb so tan-tah-lie-zing-ly deh-lish-us?" Neither man seemed curious as to why they were not being attended by his wait-staff. Deeb was happy to answer his questions, "I cooked the pork over hot pine coal, and the lamb; I fried in an oil of garlic." Deeb really took every precaution to exposé all of his techniques seriously. While he elaborated, Deeb momentarily glimpsed a small tremoring spasm in the connoisseur's body movements, and the primal fear of touching one unclean, washed over him. Trapped in the halls of such a gluttonous man, thought Deeb privately to himself. Although, after having a few contrite moments of remission, he began to share allegorical stories - about how each animal came to be, to entertain the connoisseur. Deeb; being dubious about the traditional culinary techniques passed on to him, merely appreciated the savor evident in the lack of conversation on the connoisseur's part. The hungry man didn't seem very interested in how Deeb had blessed the food. No meaningfully polite contention from the meek jumbuck would assuage him otherwise, Deeb realized he was being oppressed.
Deeb embellished by way of holy purification, the virtues of each sacrament, by purging the fleshes of their impurities. What was left, was essentially clean food. He had temporarily extricated the gourmand of his dilemma. Every portion that Deeb prepared for the man increased his appetite. He was a very hungry man, apparently. Deeb's ochre eyes followed each unprecise knife-stroke, always half-expecting him to cease at some point. The moment never came when he was satisfied. The Connoisseur stabbed a fork in the air towards Deeb, as if he might try to eat him, "Chews. Wi'ch O' yah wee chops, Oi' am gunna eat lah'st?" Deeb meekly glared at him in silent defiance. The man was plump, but suffered from Kuru. A defiled shell of a man. The symptoms of disease disgusted Deeb, it was an abhorrent abomination in his eyes. For the first time, it was actualized - life and death decisions, occurred to Deeb. The gourmand had a kitchen full of food, most of it spoiling. Deeb had not been his prisoner long - but the man's prisoner, he was.
Two great weights burdened Deeb. First - His ancestors were no better than this man. However diversified and refined the act - cannibalism was not a virtuous deed. Second - Educating The Connoisseur about autophagy; which for Deeb, had been essentially the highest honor, he personally had ever been conveyed. Deeb had been instructed from a young age to be incredibly diligent in learning the ways of reasoning with particularly ignorant creatures. Such was his duty, to pass on the wisdom of his ancestors. To be exonerated, the man; the connoisseur, would first have to rectify and or make atonement for the savagery of both embodying and preying on others with an uneducated nihilistic apex ethos. After the man understood the disrespect he did to himself and the things he ate, Deeb would be able to rightfully punish the ignorance of the Connoisseur's crimes. Merely imbibing the fat man would not be justice unto Deeb's preferences, his sensibilities demanded that the man be coaxed out of his misconceptions. "The task would take weeks." a chagrinned Deeb thought to himself.
Deeb's countenance, being diminutively reflexive, in spite of the Gourmand's haughty jests, suggested an inner confidence, through composure alone. He wasn't a shinobi - strictly speaking, but neither was he a lamb to the slaughter. Despite the size difference, the cold stare of the Ajin was not one of submission. The connoisseur would pay for his crimes one way or another. The job was either honest work, or subterfuge, depending on who you asked - it was a bit of both, to Deeb. When questioned; about the ryo, the Connoisseur briefly regained lucidity from his fervent rage. Real world consequences brought an ardent fear out of the frustrations of the man - resoundingly, albeit momentarily, his dementia was omitted from granting him amnesty. Allowing Deeb to witness the moment of clarity he required to. The sane guilt of a man having a revelatory experience. Deeb probably was not the only one who had this sort of work in mind. The next chef; of course, would not be far off.
After having already long ago succumbed to dementia, brought on by a history of eating unproperly prepared human flesh - the Connoisseur had long since forgotten, why Deeb was currently waiting. Mystified the Connoisseur, admonished Deeb further. Asking for the bill for the food he'd eaten, in his broken-jaw slang. "Oww mush moolah, fur yore trubble? " He proffered 2000 ryo like it was pocket-change. Deeb accepted the money swiftly, taking care not to stray into the gluttonous man's grasp. After receiving payment for services rendered, the young Ajin departed swiftly.
(Leave)
Total Word Count: 1,016
Claims: +10 Stats, 10 AP, 2,000 Ryo.
Claiming Word Count Towards Learning: Cursing Blows 1,016/1500
Deeb embellished by way of holy purification, the virtues of each sacrament, by purging the fleshes of their impurities. What was left, was essentially clean food. He had temporarily extricated the gourmand of his dilemma. Every portion that Deeb prepared for the man increased his appetite. He was a very hungry man, apparently. Deeb's ochre eyes followed each unprecise knife-stroke, always half-expecting him to cease at some point. The moment never came when he was satisfied. The Connoisseur stabbed a fork in the air towards Deeb, as if he might try to eat him, "Chews. Wi'ch O' yah wee chops, Oi' am gunna eat lah'st?" Deeb meekly glared at him in silent defiance. The man was plump, but suffered from Kuru. A defiled shell of a man. The symptoms of disease disgusted Deeb, it was an abhorrent abomination in his eyes. For the first time, it was actualized - life and death decisions, occurred to Deeb. The gourmand had a kitchen full of food, most of it spoiling. Deeb had not been his prisoner long - but the man's prisoner, he was.
Two great weights burdened Deeb. First - His ancestors were no better than this man. However diversified and refined the act - cannibalism was not a virtuous deed. Second - Educating The Connoisseur about autophagy; which for Deeb, had been essentially the highest honor, he personally had ever been conveyed. Deeb had been instructed from a young age to be incredibly diligent in learning the ways of reasoning with particularly ignorant creatures. Such was his duty, to pass on the wisdom of his ancestors. To be exonerated, the man; the connoisseur, would first have to rectify and or make atonement for the savagery of both embodying and preying on others with an uneducated nihilistic apex ethos. After the man understood the disrespect he did to himself and the things he ate, Deeb would be able to rightfully punish the ignorance of the Connoisseur's crimes. Merely imbibing the fat man would not be justice unto Deeb's preferences, his sensibilities demanded that the man be coaxed out of his misconceptions. "The task would take weeks." a chagrinned Deeb thought to himself.
Deeb's countenance, being diminutively reflexive, in spite of the Gourmand's haughty jests, suggested an inner confidence, through composure alone. He wasn't a shinobi - strictly speaking, but neither was he a lamb to the slaughter. Despite the size difference, the cold stare of the Ajin was not one of submission. The connoisseur would pay for his crimes one way or another. The job was either honest work, or subterfuge, depending on who you asked - it was a bit of both, to Deeb. When questioned; about the ryo, the Connoisseur briefly regained lucidity from his fervent rage. Real world consequences brought an ardent fear out of the frustrations of the man - resoundingly, albeit momentarily, his dementia was omitted from granting him amnesty. Allowing Deeb to witness the moment of clarity he required to. The sane guilt of a man having a revelatory experience. Deeb probably was not the only one who had this sort of work in mind. The next chef; of course, would not be far off.
After having already long ago succumbed to dementia, brought on by a history of eating unproperly prepared human flesh - the Connoisseur had long since forgotten, why Deeb was currently waiting. Mystified the Connoisseur, admonished Deeb further. Asking for the bill for the food he'd eaten, in his broken-jaw slang. "Oww mush moolah, fur yore trubble? " He proffered 2000 ryo like it was pocket-change. Deeb accepted the money swiftly, taking care not to stray into the gluttonous man's grasp. After receiving payment for services rendered, the young Ajin departed swiftly.
(Leave)
Total Word Count: 1,016
Claims: +10 Stats, 10 AP, 2,000 Ryo.
Claiming Word Count Towards Learning: Cursing Blows 1,016/1500
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