Niles // Zero (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cyclopticsadist) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2019-10-08 06:33 pm
cyclopticsadist) wrote in middaeg2019-10-08 06:33 pm
Entry tags:
Come get y'all Goose.
Who: Niles, Entrapta, and anybody else!
When: Oct 1-12
Where: Refugee district/outside the city
What: Killing Cooking and Serving Geese
Warnings: None as of yet.
Hunting
i) Open
[Niles was not normally an early riser, but several mornings a week this month he can be found up and about in the hour or so before dawn. Bow in hand, quiver fully stocked, and pulling a small cart behind him he heads outside the city walls to hunt. With a bounty set on goose feathers, and a whole mess of new residents to feed in the refugee sector, Niles saw an excellent opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, or rather, solve two problems with one dead bird. Care to try and tag along?]
ii) Open
[Hunting is a calming, almost meditative activity for him, especially when aided by his new feline senses. Tracking game has never felt so intuitive, so natural, although he finds himself unconsciously sneaking much closer than he needs to get a clear shot. One of these times he might forget about his bow entirely and wind up pouncing claws and teeth first onto an unsuspecting bird. As such, sneaking up on him or startling him is ill advised. Better announce your presence first if you want to approach him mid-hunt.]
iii) Open
[By midmorning he's finished, some days with a full cart, others with less impressive hauls. Either way he's stopped at the entrance to the city proper and has to wait for city officials to thoroughly inspect each and every bird he's shot for signs of infection. Logically, Niles knows this is reasonable. The Cwyld is serious business and with quarantine procedures too much is better than too little. Emotionally however, he's grumpy, tired, and doesn't like standing around impotently while others pour over his work and discard some of his hard earned catches. So he passes this time by plucking any of the approved birds until the inspectors are satisfied. Feel like giving him a hand?]
Head Chef
i) Closed to Entrapta
[Niles grew up in the slums, and while the refugee section of town wasn't quite as derelict, it was far from comfortable lodgings. He's not skilled with a hammer, has no experience with building, and all of his skills in companionship and entertaining are far from kid friendly. His expertise at thievery, subterfuge, stalking, and assassination were also not very helpful for the work that needed doing. But the monsters rescued from Dorcharcht still needed their help, and Niles had more sympathy for them than just about anyone else he'd ever met. The sudden and overwhelmingly positive upheaval of their lives was familiar to him. Being yanked from desolate circumstances into relative luxury was its own kind of challenge and came with a unique set of growing pains and he'd be damned if he was going to let them face that alone. The least he could do was make sure they faced each day with a full belly, just as Leo had done for him.
So just outside of the bustle of construction and renovation Niles has set up several long tables. He's got a large stew pot on one, a few partially butchered goose carcasses next to it, an assortment of knives and pans and other donated equipment scattered about in a haphazard sprawl. This is where he brings Entrapta now, gesturing at the space he's claimed for his kitchen.]
An oven would be great, but mostly I need stoves. Stew is always the best choice for serving large crowds, but that takes time, and until then I'll want to be at least searing some meat and serving it along with bread and whatever other donated goods we can get our hands on.
[He looks to her expectantly, waiting for direction, his eye darting over the mound of parts and pieces she'd brought with her.]
ii) Open
[Pop-up kitchen now fully functional and stew pot simmering away behind him, Niles spends the remainder of the day chopping, peeling, frying, salting, slicing, seasoning, and serving whatever donated food he can get his hands on to hungry refugees and workers. Niles isn't exactly a culinary genius, but he's practiced at taking humble ingredients and making the most of them. His food is filling, flavorful, and satisfying, but don't take more than your fair share. His supplies are tight, and he's keeping a watchful eye over portion sizes, trying to make sure there's enough to go around.]
((OOC: Head Chef ii) is more exposition than anything else, feel free to tag in requesting a specific order, returning empty dishes, complimenting or critiquing his food, volunteering to help, whatever floats your boat.))
When: Oct 1-12
Where: Refugee district/outside the city
What: Killing Cooking and Serving Geese
Warnings: None as of yet.
Hunting
i) Open
[Niles was not normally an early riser, but several mornings a week this month he can be found up and about in the hour or so before dawn. Bow in hand, quiver fully stocked, and pulling a small cart behind him he heads outside the city walls to hunt. With a bounty set on goose feathers, and a whole mess of new residents to feed in the refugee sector, Niles saw an excellent opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, or rather, solve two problems with one dead bird. Care to try and tag along?]
ii) Open
[Hunting is a calming, almost meditative activity for him, especially when aided by his new feline senses. Tracking game has never felt so intuitive, so natural, although he finds himself unconsciously sneaking much closer than he needs to get a clear shot. One of these times he might forget about his bow entirely and wind up pouncing claws and teeth first onto an unsuspecting bird. As such, sneaking up on him or startling him is ill advised. Better announce your presence first if you want to approach him mid-hunt.]
iii) Open
[By midmorning he's finished, some days with a full cart, others with less impressive hauls. Either way he's stopped at the entrance to the city proper and has to wait for city officials to thoroughly inspect each and every bird he's shot for signs of infection. Logically, Niles knows this is reasonable. The Cwyld is serious business and with quarantine procedures too much is better than too little. Emotionally however, he's grumpy, tired, and doesn't like standing around impotently while others pour over his work and discard some of his hard earned catches. So he passes this time by plucking any of the approved birds until the inspectors are satisfied. Feel like giving him a hand?]
Head Chef
i) Closed to Entrapta
[Niles grew up in the slums, and while the refugee section of town wasn't quite as derelict, it was far from comfortable lodgings. He's not skilled with a hammer, has no experience with building, and all of his skills in companionship and entertaining are far from kid friendly. His expertise at thievery, subterfuge, stalking, and assassination were also not very helpful for the work that needed doing. But the monsters rescued from Dorcharcht still needed their help, and Niles had more sympathy for them than just about anyone else he'd ever met. The sudden and overwhelmingly positive upheaval of their lives was familiar to him. Being yanked from desolate circumstances into relative luxury was its own kind of challenge and came with a unique set of growing pains and he'd be damned if he was going to let them face that alone. The least he could do was make sure they faced each day with a full belly, just as Leo had done for him.
So just outside of the bustle of construction and renovation Niles has set up several long tables. He's got a large stew pot on one, a few partially butchered goose carcasses next to it, an assortment of knives and pans and other donated equipment scattered about in a haphazard sprawl. This is where he brings Entrapta now, gesturing at the space he's claimed for his kitchen.]
An oven would be great, but mostly I need stoves. Stew is always the best choice for serving large crowds, but that takes time, and until then I'll want to be at least searing some meat and serving it along with bread and whatever other donated goods we can get our hands on.
[He looks to her expectantly, waiting for direction, his eye darting over the mound of parts and pieces she'd brought with her.]
ii) Open
[Pop-up kitchen now fully functional and stew pot simmering away behind him, Niles spends the remainder of the day chopping, peeling, frying, salting, slicing, seasoning, and serving whatever donated food he can get his hands on to hungry refugees and workers. Niles isn't exactly a culinary genius, but he's practiced at taking humble ingredients and making the most of them. His food is filling, flavorful, and satisfying, but don't take more than your fair share. His supplies are tight, and he's keeping a watchful eye over portion sizes, trying to make sure there's enough to go around.]
((OOC: Head Chef ii) is more exposition than anything else, feel free to tag in requesting a specific order, returning empty dishes, complimenting or critiquing his food, volunteering to help, whatever floats your boat.))
no subject
[But Niles has no reason to lie, either. He remembers what happened in Dorchacht with Rich, though.]
It bought me, too. And a friend of mine. It often misspoke, saying things that could be perceived as orders but weren't meant to be. Are you sure that's not what happened to you?
[He knew they weren't supposed to be orders because he never felt compelled to act on them. Only Rich did... maybe he was more sensitive to the SQUIP's accidental orders because of the connection they'd shared back home.]
no subject
Oh I can assure you it relished the power it had over me.
[As memories of that experience are pulled into sharper focus his lips pull back, less like a smile and more like an animal bearing its teeth.]
And it's highly likely what it did to you was not accidental.
no subject
It isn't clear, exactly what happened... but it is clear that a line was crossed, and the SQUIP's actions weren't random maliciousness, but retribution for a previous wrong.]
no subject
...You did something to it first.
[He wonders what it was that made the SQUIP feel so much anger and panic.]
What did you do?
no subject
I showed it a kind of pleasure it wasn't ready for.
no subject
If it wasn't ready, you should have stopped.
[He thinks again to the panic and rage. No, the SQUIP obviously was not enjoying itself. And he's angry that Niles made it feel that way.]
no subject
I warned it about what it was getting into. I gave it the tools to call me off. It's not my fault it got in over its head.
[His tail is lashing side to side again, resentment and indignation building as he puts to words what happened between himself and the Squip.]
I offered to teach it things it hadn't seen before, I delivered on my promise, and was rewarded with a spiteful attempt to strip away my autonomy.
no subject
[Unfortunately, Niles' credibility just went out of the window as far as Connor is concerned. That doesn't mean Connor approves of the SQUIP's method of revenge though, having fought so hard for his own freedom.]
And you call the SQUIP spiteful.
no subject
A simple declaration. It will let Connor do with that what it will.]
no subject
This isn't about it. I consider our score settled. I was just trying to warn you.
no subject
You consider killing it "settling the score"?
[When Niles apparently started this whole thing in the first place?]
no subject
I do. Pity it didn't stick.
[Now that was entirely counterproductive if he wanted to actually help this fool. But how was he supposed to resist pouring salt in to such a blatantly open wound?]
no subject
He doesn't speak again yet, just lunges forward and swings for him again- this time, he's aiming for the stomach.]
no subject
Mark my words; it's going to mold you into a shape that satisfies its whims. If you want to remain yourself, keep your distance.
no subject
You seem pretty sure about that.
no subject
I am.
[His stinger brushes against the stone of the city's formidable outer wall and Niles turns and leaps into the air, using his cloven hooves to find seemingly impossible purchase on its rough vertical surface. When he's a good ten feet up he pauses and calls back down at Connor.]
If you ever pull that wool off your eyes, come find me.
no subject
He decides he's not going to dignify that with an answer, and turns on his heel to leave. Still angry, he passes the cart of geese and almost knocks it over spitefully... but he ignores it, instead. No need to resort to being a child.]