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| Food for Thought; Doesn't it just eat you up? | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 23 2010, 08:02 AM (656 Views) | |
| Imp of Chaos | Jan 23 2010, 08:02 AM Post #1 |
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Administrator - Gleefully Cruel
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The mission board had recently become swamped with the little tags that denoted important tasks, quests, and remedial lessons for the Shibusen cohort to take up. Standing in front of the board was now a dangerous task, as there was a constant group of students jostling and fighting for the best missions, elbowing each other out of the way, writing ‘shotgun’ on the back of tags, along with their names, and occasionally the entire thing would break up into a full out fight, with fists flying and excessively violent attacks to groins in order to cripple someone’s chances of snatching up some juicy mission or other. At the desk nearby, and old woman sat chuckling quietly to herself. She was well known to some and little known to others, but all knew her name, whispered through the corridors, as ‘The Chuckler’ (the whisperers were not particularly creative). In her right hand was clasped a brown paper bag that was suspiciously exactly the same shape as a three quarter empty bottle of rum (incidentally the same shape as a full bottle of rum, but unfortunately it wasn’t a full bottle of rum no matter how many times the woman checked). The Chuckler was usually drunk, but during the recent days she had become positively off her face, as the excessive number of students taxed both her patience and her stamina. Many of the tags had recommendations that needed fulfilling, such as the need for soul perception and the like, which she then had to check up on to make sure suitable people had chosen suitable missions. There were also children who asked for help in selecting a mission (for various reasons) that had caused her to write a creative list of the ways in which she might say ‘no’ in the rudest possible way (written in a near drunken stupor at around midnight when she had been forced to help a student for several hours past the time that she was supposed to go home). It was a very limited list and smelled strongly of rum. It was also mostly unintelligible except for the word ‘wiggwam’ which could be made out some way down. The last (and most hated) of her duties was the putting out of new missions which she endeavoured to do as covertly as possible at times when the crowd was smallest. She had no idea why there was such an influx in the damnable student body but in all The Chuckler was thinking she needed a holiday. The only things that kept her sane these days was betting on the fights that broke out amongst the students with her occasional friend who was supposed to help with missions but tended to prefer to sit in the back room reading old Mills and Boons paperbacks and smacking her toothless gums together in an appreciative way at certain, particularly well thumbed, pages. That hour, a few new missions had come in, and unfortunately there were still no spaces on the mission board, meaning that The Chuckler would have to sneak up to the board, and discretely hang them underneath older missions, in the hope that the quickly rising tide of missions could be completed oldest to newest, which tended to keep the punters happiest. |
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| Penelope | Jan 23 2010, 09:37 AM Post #2 |
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Icy Axe Weapon
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Today was a good day for Penelope. Because she had a good nine hours of sleep and did not have any nightmares about eerily glowing red eyes. I mean this day was so good that she was even prepared to actually attend some of her classes. Go me. Penelope gave herself a good internal pat on the back, hell she was even ignoring Lady’s snide remarks with a smirk on her face. You’re just happy because you got yourself a partner, one who actually wants to be with you. Now this little jab had her reeling, like actually reeling wherein she was pulling herself backwards and halting in the middle of the hallway. Am not and hey, HEY you don’t have to sound harsh about it, the partner bit. Penelope got a tad bit angry at this and remained stationary in the middle of the now busy hallway. Whoops that one slip actually. I’m sure. Pen made a face and the person who was heading towards her did a complete 180 and scurried in the other direction. At this Pen’s face relaxed a little for that action suddenly reminded her of Thursday. Who knows why though but before Pen could mull over it, she wondered first about the amount of students pressing by her. As if they were heading somewhere. Tilting her head to the side she glanced behind her to see that all these students were milling about over to where the mission board was. Oh right missions! Go get one, go get one! Lady suddenly yelled she was so enthusiastic about it that Pen flinched on the outside. As if slapped because hell, Lady never showed that much emotion. Down girl, I’m going, I’m going. But at last it still had her grinning. As she sauntered her way over she watched everyone trying desperately to reach for the top of the mission board because they all had it in their heads that the best missions were always at the top. But Pen who was currently at the very back of the large group waited patiently for everyone to file out. Besides getting into fights wasn’t reasonable, especially not when she was in such a good mood. Leaning back now with her arms portioned just right behind her head; she noticed a stout figure of a woman, trying her best to be discreet as she placed what looked to be missions below the mountains of others. This piqued her curiosity that she didn’t even waste any time hurdling herself over there. Shoving past a group of males and screaming banshee’s (females) she arrived at the front, getting pushed and bumped into for there was still a crowd of at least twenty students. She took one of the pieces of paper, without so much as glancing at if for her mind was suddenly in other places. Like whose hand was that…? OH MY GOD. Penelope pushed harshly away from the board before doing a quick twirl and made a mad dash out of the crowd. For the most part, people easily let her through and next thing she knew she wasn’t crashing into bodies anymore, she was crashing into a flipping wall. All she could manage was a shriek before BANG, HIT, and she was down. And your outta there. Penelope took her time to reacquaint herself with the wall. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.” She murmured before shakily getting to her feet. First she rubbed her forehead from when she collided into the wall, and then patted her knees before finally placing a hand to her backside. “If I find the fucker who…” She murmured angrily before shaking her fist at the crowd who for the most part ignored her seething hate for them. She doubted it. With that she took that lone piece of paper she had nabbed and wandered to where the famed “Chuckler” lied dormant. Just as she was a good five feet away she actually took the time to look over what the hell she had just nabbed. Reading it once, then twice she made a face. “Soul perception.” She face faulted. “Crap I know jack all about, that.” She regained her balance but distractedly, turned to face the board again. There was no way she was going back into there! But, she really wanted a mission. Pen sighed guessing now she probably had to wait. Sure she was waiting originally but her gut instincts were screaming back at her to go look at what the “Chuckler” had placed on the board. Edited by Penelope, Jan 23 2010, 09:40 AM.
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Penelope Heartindales Is at your service ♥ | |
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| Rylaf | Jan 23 2010, 06:53 PM Post #3 |
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Extraordinarily Standard
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Tires screeching, rubber melting, oh yes. Thursday Clemens had found himself a set of wheels. But not just ONE set, but infact... TWO. Seated ontop one half of the tandem bike he had spontaneously bought, legs pumping madly as the bike skidded to a dramatic halt inside Shibusen, the aspiring Butler whipped off the dark shades perched upon the bridge of his nose, tossing them carelessly aside. No worries, he had roughly 300 of the same pair, all roughly distributed all over the city, just in case he ever needed to replenish his stock. Which he did, because his stock was only one, and he had thrown it over his shouler. HRM. Thinking better of it, he hopped off the bike and scurried on the ground, slithering between the student's feet before straightening himself triumphantly, sunglasses in hand. Marching robotically in an exaggerated manner that would have made a military man proud, he seated himself on his downed tandem bike. Shoving a digit up his nostril, he began to diligently pick away at the boogers encrusting his inner walls, not paying much attention to the students gathering around the mission board. AH! But wait, what if Penelope was picking out a mission right now? Pinching his index finger and thumb, he inverted the whole thing so that the palm of his hand was pressed against his face. Chewing his bottom lip uncertainly as he peeped at the numerous souls, he chatised himself for never actually confirming what Pen's soul looked or felt like. Well, he did have a backup plan though. It was expected of Butler's to always have a backup plan, and a backup plan to that backup plan, and so forth. A Butler was always prepared, or generally, the best bullshitter in the house. Sucking in a deep breath of air, he made a cross with his arms, covering his face, as if he were charging up some secret move, which in fact, wasn't too far from the truth. Throwing his arms wide, he bellowed at the top of his lungs, "PENNY!!!!" And then as he drooped his head to take another breath, he sighted her. Oh, cool. That was easier than expected. Thank you lawd. Marching robotically once more, he sidled up beside her, before peeping over her shoulder to examine the parchment she held. Skimming through the paper, crimson orbs settled upon one word, which brightened up his entire complexion considerably. Jabbing repeatedly at the word in question, he could barely restrain the glee in his voice as he whispered audibly, "Soul Perception. That's my thaang!" And then he halted abruptly. Wait, had she chosen this mission with him in mind? Because... BECAUSE SHE WAS MADLY IN LOVE WITH HIM?! AGAIN?!?! Staggering backward, he dropped to his knees and raised his arms to the heavens. Thank you lawd. This must be destiny. He had bought a tandem bike with her in mind, and return, she had nabbed a mission with him in mind. It worked out perfectly. Breathing out a sigh to steady his wildly churning emotions, he picked himself up off the ground, dusted himself off, and clamped his paws onto her shoulders, before nodding emphatatically, murmuring emotionally, "I understand. I... I understand. I promise I will make you into a Death Scythe in no time." And with that said, he swiftly manuevered her towards the mission lady desk, yoinked the mission paper from Penelope's hand, and planted it down onto the desktop. "We'll take this one!" Clenching his fist and extending his thumb, he jabbed at himself and the his unfortunate partner held within his grasp, looking down his nose at the lady before sneering, "We're the best team that Shibusen's got. If you ever get any missions you feel are out of reach for the rest of the herd, have no fear! Just reserve it for Penny and Thursday!" Feeling he had been a bit rude to the lady though, he dug into his trust coat pocket and pulled out the ultimate gift. Leaning in close, hand pressed against the side of his mouth, he whispered secretively to the lady, "Sorry, got to make an impression on the missus yknow (jerking his head, he indicated the female behind him). Take this and live like a Queen!" With a flick of his finger, he slid over his prized Sizzler Gift Card to the lady. Winking, he straightened himself out, and took his position behind Penelope. |
![]() Thursday Clemens; Butler to the Awesome | |
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| Imp of Chaos | Jan 24 2010, 12:08 AM Post #4 |
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Administrator - Gleefully Cruel
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The Chuckler took one look at the energetic young lad, and his quieter partner, and did what she does best, chuckled. The chuckle though was running out of steam, and sounded somewhat wheezy, even to the woman herself. In an effort to refuel she checked to see if the rum was full or not again, subsequently it was less full than ever before. She was a little too out of it to really care if some stupid ass kids took a mission bigger than they could handle, in fact in her opinion it’d do to have a few teams dead or in the hospital, at least then there wouldn’t be quite so many always at her about missions. Turning to her register, Chuckler pretended to check that one or both of the students before her had soul percept. “YAH looks good kekekekeke You run along now, Your only last of our hopes....” The woman’s speech was jumbled and slurred and her actions clumsy, but it was clear that she had just given Thursday and Pen the go ahead. Noting the gift card she picked it up with no small amount of confusion, and passed it back to Thursday and Pen, muttering something about bribes and rum. With a dramatic sigh she waved them away to deal with what was fast growing into a cue of teams that had missions picked out – it was going to be a long day. --------------- The Shibusen paid taxi pulled up neatly behind a long line of other taxis that varied in shape, colour, brand and integrity. They had reached some kind of checkpoint. The checkpoint was not a small building, but compared to the castle some distance behind it, it looked like a very small brick shoebox. Inside there were a number of people taking tests, finishing tests, and being led away to the castle. Yes 12 teams had already failed this mission. It was a truly daunting number, so long as nothing else was added, such as, those 12 teams had been of an IQ level with that of moths that were plastered on a windscreen. Yes they had been Shibusen teams, and they had been tough, but they had been unable to remember much more than that themselves. Several had been equipped with name tags, for their own personal use. The insurmountable defence of Duckular Castle consisted in a very grilling questionnaire that all new arrivals were forced to take before they gained admittance, it went something like, ‘Are you from Shibusen, y/n?’ With an optional area for the writing of one’s name at the top and several other questions that were designed to put the wary off their guard (what is your favourite colour/song/movie). The astounding thing was not that each of the 12 previous Shibusen teams had fallen prey to the cunning trap, but that they had known enough to hold their pencils the right way about to answer the form in the first place. Entering the castle (from different doors of course) was a large variety of people from hastily accepted new employees (suspiciously the castle needed quite a lot of them) to pompous looking guests who were both pleased that they had been invited to one of the count’s famous feasts, and terrified of going inside. The staff that had been most recently hired were rather bemused about goings on, were all in ‘replacement’ of serving boys and girls, and were called (by some of the more experienced members of staff) the '20 minuters'. |
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| Penelope | Jan 24 2010, 11:18 AM Post #5 |
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Icy Axe Weapon
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Pen idly wondered if she was always going to get manhandled by Thursday in the future. She figured that yes, yes she was. She wondered that maybe she should’ve taken a stand and told Thursday off for doing such a thing but eh, like she mentioned, she was in a good mood. And this was one hell of a good mood, so no point in wasting it. Besides it had increased slightly when he mentioned that soul perception was ‘his thang’. She was also pleasantly surprised at his enthusiasm about making her into a death scythe. I knew I picked out a good one. A good, what— "YAH looks good kekekekeke You run along now, you’re only last of our hopes....” Pen made a face at the lady. I didn’t know you could get drunk at school, oh wait this is Shibusen, everyone has their eccentricities. Absentmindedly she glanced behind herself to the eerily serene looking Thursday. Honestly he could be Shibusen’s poster boy for being ‘completely random’. Well Pen figured so but she didn’t know everyone in the school personally. Only knew that maybe every half an hour or so, someone was breaking out into a fight, walking around practically naked and/or with wacked the fuck out hairdos. Of course Pen felt naturally at home with that, you know didn’t make her feel like the odd one out. I mean with the hairdo’s part that is. Anyways as Pen was handed back the ‘card’ that Thursday oh so inconspicuously handed over to the Chuckler. She looked down at it, made a small noise before passing it off to Thursday. “You can’t just bribe people.” Scoffing softly she sauntered away; once a few paces ahead she lifted a hand and beckon Thursday after her with a wiggle of her index finger. OoOoO After this Pen had suggested first that they grab anything they ‘thought’ they needed for the mission before meeting back up at the gates, to then see to their travelling arrangements. During this time away from Thursday, Pen had mulled over the mission before talking it over with Lady. From there she decided her method of getting into the banquet was that she was going incognito. As some uppity rich class snob, so that she could scout the party while mingling. Although this could have been done as a waiter as well, it was just that dressing up was so much cooler. Oh yeah Pen was that type of girl. Or Lady was whatever the woman easily influenced her. When she had arrived for their transport, she had changed into the right attire for the situation and had her hair tied back at the nape of her neck, it wrapping around to end at the front. OoOoO At their objective, Pen observed the small building they found themselves in, where they were given a questionnaire to answer. She eyed the piece of paper placed before her before pinning down the pen to write down her first answer. ‘Are you from Shibusen, y/n?’ Hell No. ‘Do you like pie?’ On occasions. As she answered the next ten or so questions she didn’t take them too seriously, because one it seemed whoever wrote it didn’t and two, well actually there was not really another reason. When she finished she made sure everything look right before Lady murmured she needed a fake name. At this Lady offered one and bemused she wrote it down. “Anne Xiety?” She murmured half to herself and half to whoever was near by. Lady nodded. It was the name of a woman I killed, very frightful lass. Pen frowned before putting this into ‘shit Lady says that I should ask her about later but never actually do’ box. It was getting rather full now that she thought about it. Penelope strolled towards the front of the room where she was supposed to hand in her test. Before she did so, she looked about the room for Thursday so that they could hand in their tests together. She waited for him with a hand to her hip, slinking out a finger to push her glasses higher up her nose as a gleam wavered dangerously against the lenses. At this moment she adopted a high class air to her aura. This seemed natural when Lady was mingling her way against her soul though. So a few things had changed rapidly about Penelope, her eyes became sharper, her stance more arrogant but poised and finally her hair. Where it was positioned at the side of her neck limply before had now started to sharpen out as if she had gone and layered the bit with gel. She cocked her head to the side, hoping that Thursday hadn’t done anything stupid like putting yes for the first question. Edited by Penelope, Jan 24 2010, 11:46 AM.
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Penelope Heartindales Is at your service ♥ | |
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| Rylaf | Jan 24 2010, 06:10 PM Post #6 |
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Extraordinarily Standard
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"YAH looks good kekekekeke You run along now, you’re only last of our hopes....” Grimacing slightly, he inched back a step. Jesus, what a crazy ole grandma. But in hindsight, if he had to have a grandma, better to have one like her than some saintly thing. At least she'd slip him some booze everynow and then. Maintaining his 'Butler' face, underneath the surface he was absolutely boiling. THESE PEOPLE. DID THEY NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT GOOD FOOD WAS?! Or maybe there just wasn't a Sizzler in Death City. Well, if it was the latter, he could accept that they were just poor souls who had yet to be enlightened by the deliciousness that was Sizzler. “You can’t just bribe people.” Standing stockstill, he emotionlessly pocketed the card. Barbarians, had no idea of what good food was. Eyeing his partners back as she sauntered away, ('so seductively' thought the lad) he scurried after her as she beckoned him. After this, they went their seperate ways, to gather anything they felt they needed to better prepare themselves for the mission. Or so Penelope thought anyways. Perched on a tree not too far away, a bucket of Mint & Brownie Ice Cream tucked in his arm, he began to shovel away at the delectable treat, excitedly observing Penelope... talking to herself. Shrugging dismissively, ('A Butler must find interest in even the most mundane things' he repeated to himself) he binged through the entire thing. Burping, he made to toss the carton over his shoulder carelessly as he was prone to doing, before thinking better of it, and folding it up into an origami elephant. Balancing the thing carefully on the tree branch, he leaned back to admire his work, before sprinting back to the rendezvous point, in case Pen got suspicious. After the long trip from Shibusen to... Wherevertheywere via taxi (the Butler had insisted bringing along his tandem bike though, and upon arriving in the area, and tucked it carefully into a bunch of bushes that he promptly marked by urinating on) he entered a small building, where a large number of people apparently were taking some kind of test. Blanching, he whirled about to face his usher, mentally relegating the fact that 'this was not what I signed up for', before receiving an unceremonious shove in the back that sent him careening into the room. Snatching the questionnaire moodily, he plopped down into a seat and observed the questions. #1. 'Are you from Shibusen, y/n?’ NGGH. Clutching his heart, he collapsed onto the tabletop. These fiends! If he answered truthfully, chances were he would be executed, OR WORSE, rejected. Bbbut, if he answered 'No', then he would be a liar! And a Butler couldn't be a liar! How would Penny ever trust him to be her designated Butler and Clothes Picker-Outter if she knew he was a liar?! Sweating profusely, it felt like the damned piece of paper was miles away from his head. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth, fortified his will, and scratched out: 'No : )' Whew. Everybody that knows anything about anything knew that adding a smiley face at the end of even the harshest and most vile of comments would negate the harshness and vileness of it. So in a sense, he had just negated his lie, and so, could still be designated as Pennie's personal Butler and Clothes Picker-Outter. #2. ‘Do you like pie?’ OH.MY.GOD. Fluttering his hands ecstatically into the air, it was all he could do to stifle his scream of excitement. He loooooooved pie. He made a pretty damned good pie too. Maybe the questionnaire writer person was a like-minded fellow? Maybe they ought to exchange Pie Recipe's or something and chat for hours on end about their Pie-Making War Stories. Sucking on his pen thoughtfully, he settled with scratching down: 'I wish to abuse a standard strawberry pie with thin crust and topped with thick layer of brand quality 30% fat whipped cream.' Blowing through the rest of the questions in a blink of an eye, he scratched his chin thoughtfully, before scribbling down his alias as Don Fernando. Leaning back into his chair, he stretched out, before picking himself up off the chair, surveying the room for an indicator of where he should drop off his questionnaire. And then he sighted Penny, and his jaw dropped. She was... was... so boss-like. So different than usual! Before it was a bit more discreet, but now... Hm, maybe he needed to touch up his personality a bit too. Digging into his trusty coat, he yoinked out his favorite fake glasses, nose, and mustache disguise, before plopping them onto his face. Already feeling more confident, he sidled up casually beside the more lady-like Penelope (he would mentally address her from now on as Lady Deathstrike). With a brief nudge and cough, he notified her of his presence, before marching forward robotically to hand in his questionnaire, awaiting what came next. Edited by Rylaf, Jan 24 2010, 09:50 PM.
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![]() Thursday Clemens; Butler to the Awesome | |
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| Imp of Chaos | Jan 25 2010, 09:55 AM Post #7 |
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Administrator - Gleefully Cruel
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After the test, it was ascertained by some busybody maid that Thursday, or Don Fernando as he insisted on calling himself, was Lady Xiety’s help. He was therefore sent to the kitchen to get ready for waiting on her and the rest of the feast, as none of the guests were permitted to keep their staff with them while generally socialising. Penelope and Thursday were led off in different directions once they had crossed the moat to their separate areas. Inside the castle, in the servant’s quarters, was a maze of corridors. Some were guarded, some had fallen out of use, some had just fallen out (of the castle entirely) as parts of the structure were rather dilapidated. Servants rushed (and hobbled) too and fro along the warren of stairs and walkways. An alarmingly large number of said servants were missing some of their limbs, and in particularly bad cases, most of their limbs. More discretely there were a few missing only the odd finger here or there, while even more discretely some were missing a toe or two – this was of course hidden by smart dress shoes but announced by a limp. The quarters that were to house guests were, on the whole, much better maintained. Plush carpets, vases, chandeliers, oil paintings of gloomy men and women in expensive finery, and antique furniture abounded. The rooms all had high ceilings, and were ridiculously voluminous. Everything was, if not of finest taste, of most extravagant value, which some people think the same thing. The men and women there could easily be sorted from previous diners, to newly invited. The people who had seen other feasts had a mean glint in their eye, voluminous girth, and almost all were well aged. The people who had been invited for the first time were usually young to middle aged, not over-fat, and with an air of uncertainty about them. Quickly several servants were ushering the milling crowd into a dining hall were each person was to be seated before a huge set of knives, forks, spoons, and stranger looking cutlery used only by the very wealthy. The Count was already seated at the head of the table, and he magnanimously received his guests. It was clear, why he had been waiting for them in the dining room, as his fatness greatly exceeded the space of his chair, and he seemed to be falling onto the ground on both sides, his stomach held up from actually touching the ground by a number of small footstools. He smelled atrocious and was sweating profusely, but never-the-less, he was the most important person at the feast, and those who wished to be in his good graces had the sense and fore-knowledge to bring gasmasks. Those who hadn’t were relegated to the other end of the long table for their own safety. The head butler was just that – a head. He sat on a plate that rested in the hand of his assistant, and was ferried wherever he ordered smartly and with a minimum of jolting. He was overseeing the kitchen and often told the story of how he had worked his way up from humble bootboy, through various serving positions, until finally he had achieved his position. His unusual body, or lack there-of came from his unfortunate position as an aspiring butler to Count Duckular. The count was so fond of eating that he barely found the time to wait for his servants to put the food down before he was already snatching at it with his voluminous mouth. Occasionally, a servant who wasn’t quite fast enough, or was caught in the master’s feeding frenzy would lose a digit, limb or occasionally be swallowed up entirely. The other hazard, for those working at serving, was the incredible stench of the Count, which would only get worse as the night wore on. Should anyone fall, they would not be retrieved, as they were considered lost. Sure enough, they would quickly be found and eaten by the count. Only the fastest and most determined survived a feast, and today the entire staff was thrumming with tension, as the feast was about to get underway. With nudges and winks, the older staff fitted out the twenty-minuters with serving platters and all that they would need. One of the unfortunates asked why they were called the twenty-minuters, and was promptly and most cruelly informed that they had an expected life expectancy of twenty minutes. Special servants were given the servings that were meant for their masters alone, but were then also expected to come back to the kitchen in order to take further dishes out to the table, and how many dishes there were.
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| Penelope | Jan 25 2010, 07:49 PM Post #8 |
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Icy Axe Weapon
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Pen saw someone sidle up beside her and with a glance her eyes went to the fake nose, moustache and glasses. At this she blanched. “Thursday…” Pen began before being reminded by Lady, ‘your incognito Penelope’. “I forgot that it was Friday not Thursday! Silly me.” Pen laughed idly before handing in her questionnaire. Although Penelope did take the time to look at it once in the light before in a not so inconspicuous manner looked at Thursday’s own sheet. At the top she eyed the fake name, Don Fernando with barely held amusement. Now as she waited for them to finish marking she looked to Thursday with raised eyebrows, because obviously she was not amused, or Lady wasn’t. Well whatever, SOMEONE was not amused and another part of her felt like chuckling. Either way after everything was handled; they were escorted from the building towards the castle. Once they reached some designated parting point they were separated but to not cause worry to Thursday, she called out to him right before they were broken up. “See you later Don!” She gave a girlish wave before being lead away. OoOoO Don, DON? Why’d did I have to say it like that? To make people think you’re some ditzy skan— SHUT IT LADY. So as they were lead to the dining hall she looked about her surroundings. Making sure to see if things were to go bad, she’d be able to make a quick escape. Oh, with Thursday too of course. From the door to where the dining hall was it was a rather long run but at least they didn’t have wooden floors, just plush carpet and thus much more easier to run away on. Other than that the extravagant value of the home was completely lost on her. Rather she was more preoccupied with the idea of her first mission with Thursday, meaning her first kill with Thursday, meaning the first time in a long while she’ll be held by someone other than Bo. Huh. As they were about to enter into the dining hall Pen realized something else too. She and Thursday hadn’t check to see if they were compatible. All they did was agree on a partnership but they hadn’t done anything together to see if they were alright with the other’s wavelength. They hadn’t checked! What the hell. How could you just start a partnership without doing that first? Wait he didn’t even know her weapon form was an axe!? Could he handle her? WAIT, does he like axes? WHAT IF THIS ALL WENT TO SHIT?! Oh calm down you ninny. Lady tried at soothing her but Pen was internally freaking. Look even if you aren’t you can still manage on your own and you can just book it out of here. Maybe through a window, though I don’t know how far down the drop will be. Pen was still freaking because someone had actually wanted to be her partner and already they might have to split up because they might not be COMPATIBLE. OH GAWD. WILL YOU SHUT UP, look where you are! You can’t freak out in here of all places with all these, oh sweet Jesus. Noticing the change in Lady’s voice she glanced up before being ushered to her seat. She took notice of all the uncertain looking folks and the rest if not the all of the others who looked quite ready to do something nasty. Still as she took her seat she was trying to see what exactly was making Lady just freeze up like that, and gag. Yes Lady was making gagging noises, it was quite distracting. She finally saw what exactly was making Lady so repulsed. Although her first guess sure as hell would have been that talking head on the platter but no it was the man seated at the head of the elongated table. The count she presumed. But oh sweet Jesus was he ever gross, fat, revolting and GAG WORTHY. Pen managed not to spit out bile, though it seemed that Lady might already have. This made Pen uncomfortable for one; Lady’s soul was affecting her and turning her insides sour while also making her very nauseous because Lady was nauseous. I can’t take it Penelope. He’s so revolting, everyone here is. You can do the rest on your own? Yes? Meet up with Thursday, or something! Only call me if you’re in HUGE trouble. Insert more gagging noises here before nothing. Pen retained her discreet and held fast posture and her eyes soften enough that they were see through again before finally her hair settled back in curls at her neck. She sighed. Lady had made her feel more courageous, if that was the word for it. So she missed her presence but hey at least when the time came for her and Thursday to battle he wouldn’t notice Lady, well she hoped that he wouldn’t. She didn’t want Thursday to know of Lady just yet. Pen figured this must have been from that whole fiasco with Bo. As she mulled this all over, her back started to lose some of its straightness and she was now drooping over the countless utensils before her. |
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Penelope Heartindales Is at your service ♥ | |
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| Rylaf | Jan 25 2010, 08:58 PM Post #9 |
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Extraordinarily Standard
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Cocking a real eyebrow curiously as the Lady Deathstrike called out his name, he shook his thoroughly from side to side to indicate he did not get it. To make it a little bit more clear, he whispered out of the side of his mustache, "I don't get it..." Was today even a friday? She was obviously a little confused here, and Thursday/Don Fernando felt it his duty to at least correct her on the day of the week. But then he got it. And then he was like, whoa. To further emphasize his point, his body shook violently, and he whispered in awe, "Whoa..." Shortly afterwards they were lead away. “See you later Don!” Oh, that silly girl. Whirling away from his escortee, he winked, and called back, "Wherever the wind blows Lady Deathstrike!" And then he got lead away into the Kitchen. The Kitchen! Eyes positively sparkling in awe as he surveyed his working enviroment, he paid no heed to any of the other designated servants. When he had had his fill of taking in his new workplace, he felt obligated to at least break the ice and get to know his co-workers. Digging into his trusty coat, he pulled out a six-pack, howling excitedly, "Hey guys, look what I brought... SIX FRIENDS!" His face still shining with excitement, the other servants shuffled about awkwardly. And it was just that. Awkward. Sniffing, he popped open a can and promptly chugged it down, stomping to a corner in a huff. Bastards. If they were going to work together, they might as well be friends or something, but these ninnies apparently weren't into that kind of thing. They probably thought this kind of thing was a JOB. Pssh. Well, his job was way more awesome than just standard serve-and-wait schlep. Taking comfort in that fact, he muttered incoherently to himself, before throwing another one down the hatch in anguish. By the designated serving time, Thursday had already gone through all six of his friends and was leaning heavily on one uncomfortable waiter, telling him his lifestory. "I... I'll killa snitch, mmkay? I ain't sayin I have... I ain't saying I haven't. but. Ugh, whatever." Ding ding ding! Lazily dragging his feet over to his platter and serving cart, his glanced about furtively, before lifting the cap and sneaking a chicken wing, covertly munching on the thing. And another. And another. Until finally, the only thing left on the platter was a pile of bones. Grimacing uncertainly, he quietly confirmed to himself that this would probably be a problem. Looking about, he grabbed the head butler by his top hat and unceremoniously plopped him onto the platter in replacement for the chicken wings he had previously devoured. Slightly irritated by all the muffled noise, he quickly lifted the platter cap and chopped the talking head, right in it's face, chopped it twice even, before placing the cap back on. Following the line of the other servants, he pushed his cart, drearily swaying side to side, bumping into walls and whatnot as he did so. Finally locating the dining room, he duly noted that the other servants ('kissassers' thought the REAL butler disdainfully) serving their respective masters. Blinking several times, he located Lady Deathstrike/Pen, still looking stunning as ever, before making his way beside her. Sauntering beside her, he grinned crookedly, before lifting his platter and placing the unconscious Head Butler's... head(?) onto his mistresses plate. Ohshit. Realizing his mistake, he shiftily swept the head back into the platter. Unsure of what to do next, he leaned close to Pen's ear before whispering in a not so secretive voice, "Wot do we do next?" |
![]() Thursday Clemens; Butler to the Awesome | |
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| Penelope | Jan 25 2010, 10:05 PM Post #10 |
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Icy Axe Weapon
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“What did YOU DO?” She hissed suddenly crazed and twitching badly, her hands making unclenching and clenching gestures before she cooled her heels. Remembering where they were. “Do you know where we are?” She whispered as she pulled him down by his stupid bowtie. I mean honestly a bowtie? How, how, okay she didn’t have a word on mind but it was something close to stupid, moronic, idiotic or, hey those could have worked. She frowned before letting him go. At this she turned about and noticed people staring at her. A little bit of color flushed to her cheeks and she got up slowly. “My butler…he brought me shrimp can you believe that? Shrimp! For an appetizer? What lunacy…” She beckoned to a bow before excusing herself, the rest of the people who were in the vicinity of where she sat went back to their own businesses. Conversing and talking with others about the Count and other mish mash that she couldn’t give a damn about. Looking down to the cart she pushed Thursday against it, before standing behind him and pushing him forward, marching him across the room to where the other carts and servants were. Once there they eyed them all quite fearfully and Pen had to smile in assurance. Muttering how hard it was to find good butlers these days. Once the cart was back she picked up the platter with the currently unconscious head butler still inside and pointed for Thursday to follow after her. Now on the way into the dining room she had spotted some bathrooms and intended to go there. In the meanwhile everyone was busy eating, or well preparing to eat it seemed while she and the incapacitated Thursday were slinking out the back, so to speak. Once in reach of the washroom she ducked inside quickly to see if anyone was inside before acknowledging that no one was. She then plopped the platter on the sink’s ledge and went right back out to nab Thursday. She tossed him inside ready to start reprimanding him. “You’re DRUNK? How are you supposed to fight if you can’t even walk straight? I’d have you know that it was me who had to practically drag you over here!” She flailed her limbs, successfully disentangling her hair from the hair tie. “Now look buddy I’m not going to die because of you so, GET IT TOGETHER.” At this she took him by his collar and shook him once and then twice for emphasis. Hoping that made him dizzy enough to throw up all that wasteful gunk one calls alcohol. Muttering at the smell of him she went over to the sink and opened up the lid of the platter. Staring at the currently unconscious head. “How the hell does this work?” She poked at it once and the head started to flutter open his eyes. Pen gave a little shriek before on instinct bashing her fist into it. “Oh jeez.” She took up his head and brought him to the back of the washroom where she placed him in the last stall, locking the door and then climbing over it to get back out. Dusting off her hands she went back to Thursday to see if he was less inebriated. As she neared him she sighed. “Look before we even try to kill these suckers we have to try something first kay? And for this I need you to be very serious and, stuff.” She nodded before stopping before him. “Were going to see if we’re compatible and by compatible I need to see if you can wield me in my weapon form, got it?” Pen rolled her eyes at the idea. You know being held by some drunken loon and all. Like…what if he accidentally stabbed himself? Then again that wasn’t at the top of her worries, if anything she was more worried about them not working out. “Okay ready? Hold out your hands and you better catch me or I swear!” Pen took up a stance, bent down her legs and allowed for her body to do the switch. It was an exhilarating feeling that’s for sure, loosing your sense of gravity before being established into a completely different form. She glowed and disappeared, whipping around once before gravity found her and she was lurching back to the ground. Usually this was when the person would catch her. She closed her eyes.
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Penelope Heartindales Is at your service ♥ | |
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7:27 PM Jul 11