(GM-Led) Memaw's Kitchen
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Character Name: Irenah
Fantasy Race: Saytr
Appearance: Quite tall, all shades of green, light green skin, darker green fur and hair. Large rams horns typically adorned with flowers and vines... are they growing from her hair??
Personality Type: light and bubbly, a little clumsy
Gender/Pronouns: She/Her
Kitchen Role/job/responsibilities: Plating
Favorite Hobby: Making little sculptures out of food
Major Fear: Scared of being found by people from her old life
Major Flaw: Indecision
Life Goals: Starting over, living a simple life on the right side of the law
Secrets: Found refuge here in Memaw's Kitchen, living under a witness protection sort of identity -
:::
The restaurant role of someone who prepares the plate, such as garnish and presentation, is typically known as a "garde manger" or "station chef." In many restaurants, the garde manger is responsible for preparing cold dishes such as salads, appetizers, and charcuterie boards, and also for plating hot dishes before they are served to customers.
The garde manger is responsible for ensuring that each plate leaving the kitchen looks visually appealing and is consistent with the restaurant's standards. This involves arranging food items in an aesthetically pleasing manner, using garnishes to add color and texture, and ensuring that portion sizes are consistent.
In addition to plate preparation, the garde manger may also be responsible for managing inventory, ordering supplies, and ensuring that all kitchen equipment is properly maintained. Depending on the size and complexity of the restaurant, there may be multiple garde mangers working in the kitchen, each with their own specific responsibilities.
:::
You sneak past the gap in the curtain where you only catch a glimpse of the back of Gus' head, who is facing away from you and face down into some paperwork, but the clickety-clack of your hooves is distinct on the pavement.
"Irenaaaah!" yells his gruff voice in an arcing tone. "I'm onto you! The jig is up!"
You wince and gulp. You knew this day was coming. You start to count the exits, plotting your escape, but you aren't sure what to do. The curtains open and Gus lumbers out in a Harumph.
"Last night we ran short on Dread pudding... 3 servings short! We were lucky some of the guests were already full and refused. Half were with Gigi Waspberry topping, and then you switch to Mango Tikitiki tart reduction! You sort the serving sizes, yes? You prepare the final garnishes, yes? What the HELL happened?"
A magic swear jar hits him in the back of his head. He grumbles and reluctantly places a coin in the jar, which flies back into Memaw's domain.
"What the ... happened, last night, chef?"
flashbacks of last night rush to you. You got carried away with one of your sculptures. One you are still perfecting and working on in your spare time. Lost in the moment, you spilled the Gigi Waspberry topping in your clumsiness. But that's probably not how candidly you want to explain the events to Gus. Do you fib? do you stall? do you tell the truth, or perhaps the truth with some garnish on top?
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Character Name: Boof
Fantasy Race: Tiefling Gnome
Appearance: About three feet tall, always wearing muscle tanks and suspenders, bright green eyes and red skin. Stocky as heck. Has red ram horns and dark blue hair, totally blind without her glasses. Digs piercings, has her septum and eyebrow pierced. HATES shoes, so always barefoot. Usually wears their hair in slouchy pig tails. Resting crabby face.
Personality Type: pretty extroverted, will give someone the business if the business needs givin', likes goofing off and playing tricks every now and again
Gender/Pronouns: she/her
Kitchen Role/job/responsibilities: Server/Host
Favorite Hobby: Drawing customer portraits (real badly, but oh boy they love doing it)
Major Fear: Shoes ("how'm I supposed to function if my dogs're in a cage", "am I gonna get worker's comp for the blisters I get wearin' your shackles? Oh, sorry, SHOES I mean")
Major Flaw: sometimes speaks before she thinks through what she's saying
Life Goals: meet a dragon, have a gallery for all the customer portraits, really wants to make people smile and laugh
Secrets: REALLY enjoys ASMR -
@Hanzilla
SPILL THE TEA
The door appears to open magically until the camera pans down to reveal you. the clap of your feet on the cold floor feels good compared to the noon-day pavement outside. The sound and feel are satisfying but you don't let them see you flinch as Frissons pass down your neck. You keep your sunglasses on for a bit so no one sees your bloodshot eyes. Hungover? Sleep deprived? High as a kite? Probably all 3, but no one is ready to deal with your hot mess this early in the shift.You walk to the host station tossing your undoubtedly 2-3 different purses and satchels under the counter and then unload a stockpile of trinkets from every stuffed pocket. Chapsticks, lip glosses, sunscreen, scrunchies, bolt cutters, some random pens and markers, a coach whistle, a broken whoopie cushion, your sketchbook, and your key chain with more keychains on it than actual keys. You aren't a hoarder, you tell yourself... you can quit anytime you want. You donn your apron and hat, which is about as heavy as you are with all the sassy flair.
For reasons unknown, Memaw likes you, and in her stillness, she mumbles to you kindly when you say hello to her. Perhaps you are kindred spirits. Each day your first responsibility is to have tea with Memaw. She mumbles secrets about the guests with a Tarrot reading, and it's your job to make sense of her musings, and plan the guest's seating based on what you think will be the best outcome. Tonight will be 3 tables, 8 guests, 9 chairs. Three guests per table, and the 9th chair is Memaw's chair.
For you see, guests have to declare their dreams during reservation. This is locked in, but in the time it takes them to get to the table, sometimes real-life events can happen, complicating the situation for each guest. Placing them in the best seating arrangement can optimize the outcomes. Sometimes, people can be sour regardless, and their experience will be a poor one, affecting others as well. You can't win them all, and choosing for losing is a tough part of the job; One that someone of your personality doesn't lose any sleep over. Tea with Memaw is the best part of your shift, because you get to cut up with her while trying to make sense of her insane prophecy babble.
(Tell me a story about how you prepared the tea party for you and Memaw.)
-
As I sit on my cycling seat, running the mill pedals with my feet, I toss varied hard and dried ingredients from my work table to the left and right mill shoots behind me for grinding. In front of me I mix some pastes with my mortars and pestles. Each piece I used on my table was bought from a different bazaar crafter, in different stones. Each stone brings something different to the mix, and a lot of folks just don't get it. But my results speak for themselves. In front of me is a slanted rock with a bottom lip that I use to hold my book.
However today I'm distracted from reading. It's my literal daily grind routine, and I'm on autopilot as I think about my latest correspondence from Sister Angela, or former Sister I suppose. We still call ourselves Sisters even though all the magic is gone with our goddess. I remember we used to grind for the sauce, side my side, in the old monastery. We'd joke about how our thighs were the ones racing to become the thickest, and our joking motto "thicc thighs make for a hot thicc sauce". Those were great joyful days. She doesn't cycle anymore though. Angela wrote to tell me about a library job she got, and to ask about my current book and recommend another. She was always recommending books, but I could never keep up, I have a queue of dozens from her now.
I still make hot sauce quite similar in ingredients, but it isn't nearly as successful because the magic is gone. The magic that we'd use to infuse our Thicc and Saucy with the heated lust of the men and women who would visit for a blessing and to buy the Sauce. These days I show up early to ride and read. It's good for me. And by getting a head start I'm able to take time to make everyone in the kitchen some energizing tea before open.
Today I'm experimenting with Troll Blood tea - I left some globs to ferment in a jar with Possumbee Honey. Honey is one of the things that stops the natural rockification process that tends to happen with Troll Blood. And Possumbee's make a honey that is sour instead of sweet. My thought is that the sourness will cut the potent savory flavor of the Troll Blood. Today I'll spoon out some fermented globs and steep it with some rosemary. I hope the crew enjoys it!
-
@Faye
(Excellent! That video of the spice bike made me chuckle.)Trolls blood is potent and used to create dreams of Strength and Power. Power affects people in different ways. Some people use it for the betterment of themselves and to benefit others they have responsibility for, and some people corrupt under the weight of their own power, flaunting their strength in arrogance above those whom they have responsibility for.
You break through the rockification, which is already softened by the tart Possumbee honey.
selecting the preferred mortar and pestle, you crush the crystalized honey and blood into tiny pebbles, which you strain through the infuser with boiling water poured over it.
After steeping. You take the first sip. it's strong medicine for sure! There is almost an immediate creamy turmeric sensation at first at the front of the tongue, met with the metallic bite of the troll blood in the back of the throat, followed by the tingling zest of the sour honey which creeps up over time until your entire mouth comes alive. The rosemary hints last with a cool feeling on the roof of your mouth that opens the sinuses.
An acquired taste at first, but it quickly grows across the palate, awakening your body stronger than any cup of coffee would. Your Thicc legs start to peddle a bit faster. You hold your head high at the thought of inspiring others. You get lightheaded.
A vision comes to in a split second, though it feels much longer:
:::
you suddenly find yourself transformed into a giant flying monster, soaring above a bustling city. Your massive wings beat powerfully, propelling you through the air with ease. Looking down, you see the city stretching out beneath you like a miniature model, with tiny vehicles and people scurrying about their business.
But amidst the excitement and adrenaline of your newfound power, you notice something strange - a figure below that you recognize as your estranged friend Angela. She looks up at you with tears in her eyes, calling out to you in a desperate voice. "Come back to the sisterhood!" she cries. "We miss you so much, and we need your magic back!"
You try to respond, to tell her that you can't go back, that the goddess is gone. the magic is gone and you don't know how to get her to come back. But as you open your mouth, a deafening roar echoes through the city, drowning out your words. People flee in terror as you swoop down low, searching for Angela amidst the chaos.
Finally, you spot her in a crowded plaza, surrounded by a group of your former sisters. They all transform into Possumbees, and you are their queen bee. They're chanting and waving their hands in a ritualistic motion, calling out for your return. But as you descend towards them, you feel a sudden wave of fear washes over you. What if they're right? What if you could bring back the magic, and restore the sisterhood to its former glory?
In a moment of indecision, you hesitate, hovering in the air above the plaza. Angela looks up at you with a mix of hope and desperation, and you realize that this decision is about more than just magic - it's about friendship, loyalty, and the bonds that hold us together.
As the fever dream fades away, you find yourself left with a sense of longing, and a nagging question - can you truly leave the sisterhood behind in your heart of hearts, or is there part of you that will always belong there? Is letting go the answer, or do you still have questions your ex-goddess owes you answers for before you can truly be at peace?
:::
It is a Troll's blood, after all. A bit aggressive, but perhaps it's just what this staff needs to get their shift started STRONG! But dreams are dreams, and we are not our best, nor our worst dreams... but merely reflections of our subconscious thoughts. (And weird dreams after late-night pizza don't define who we are, or so I hope.)
When you come to your senses once more, Gus has already posted the guest list. You wonder how long you were in trance, but maybe Gus is JUST that fast.
You look over at him across the kitchen. He already has a large mug of your tea. He gives you a wink as he sips, tho his monotone face never changes.
The list is as follows:
:::"The Dancer" - A shy, introverted woman named Lily who dreams of being a graceful ballerina. In her dream, she is the star of a beautiful ballet performance, dressed in a flowing white tutu and twirling effortlessly across the stage.
"The Inventor" - A nerdy, bespectacled man named Max who dreams of creating the world's greatest invention. In his dream, he is in his laboratory surrounded by gadgets and gizmos, tinkering away at a groundbreaking invention that will change the world.
"The Superhero" - A muscular, confident man named Jake who dreams of being a superhero. In his dream, he is flying high above the city, his cape billowing behind him as he saves innocent people from danger.
"The Explorer" - A rugged, adventurous woman named Maya who dreams of exploring new and exotic lands. In her dream, she is trekking through a dense jungle, discovering ancient ruins and exotic animals at every turn.
"The Musician" - A talented musician named Alex who dreams of performing on stage in front of a massive crowd. In his dream, he is playing his heart out on his guitar, belting out a beautiful song that moves the entire audience to tears.
"The Writer" - A creative, introspective woman named Sophie who dreams of writing the perfect novel. In her dream, she is sitting in a cozy library, surrounded by books, penning the next great American novel.
"The Chef" - An ambitious, passionate chef named Marco who dreams of creating the ultimate dish. In his dream, he is in his kitchen, creating a complex, multi-layered dish that wows diners and earns him accolades from critics around the world.
"The Romantic" - A hopeless romantic named Emily who dreams of finding true love. In her dream, she is walking hand in hand with her soulmate, surrounded by rose petals and twinkling fairy lights.
:::
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Character Name: Revin Tah'Enguin
Fantasy Race: Half-Elf
Appearance: Rev sports a gentle wave of tousled blond hair and deep emerald eyes, his lips perpetually quirked beneath his handlebar mustache. He has strong forearms framed by the rolled up sleeves of his starched white shirt, clinched by his signature red leather vest. His lith body moves in arcs and whirls; never at rest, constantly swaying to an internal muse.
Personality Type: Rev is quick witted and slathers on the charm. He is capable of smoothing over everyone's rough edges and is always looking forward to unraveling the next stranger to walk through the door.
Gender/Pronouns: he/him
Kitchen Role/job/responsibilities: Bartender (if applicable)
Favorite Hobby: Painting
Major Fear: Rev knows it's only a matter of time before he is summoned, the dread of it sits low in his stomach. Sometimes he catches himself watching the door and holding his breath. He must return and complete the ritual, a binding of flesh and soul. But maybe just one more drink first.
Major Flaw: He can't stand a locked door, can't stand not knowing what's behind it. There could be anything or nothing, but there's only one way to find out.
Life Goals: He's always wanted to be painter, it's a shame he can't paint.
Secrets: Rev is an empath, capable of tasting a person's emotions and dark secrets.
Also he faints at the sight of lady-bugs. -
4/6/23 recap
@Faye : Xan the spice maker has just made some tea using trolls blood for an empowering morning brew, but dreams of her old job have gotten into the mix.@Hanzilla : Boof just arrived and is prepping optimal seating arrangements for the evening. Being kindred spirits with Memaw, she is going to take some Tea and perhaps a charcuterie to Memaw for a chatty brunch and get the deets on tonight's guests.
@Kismet : Irenah the station chef is confronted by Gus regarding the inconsistency in last night's dessert topping. The truth is she clumsily spilled it while distracted with her food sculptures, but she'll need a good whimsical fib to calm Gus' OCD down.
@mianngu
The door opens and you forward march to the beat of your own drum. You see yourself on each smooth surface but you try not to stare, then you relent as you fine-tune your mustache in the reflection of a large ladle hanging on a rack. Gus cuts his eyes over at you, but when your eyes connect with a charming wink he looks away... yeah...Even Gus can blush.You greet everyone with all the inside jokes in your arsenal, then to your station you go. The smells of sweet bourbon honey, mahogany wood, and cigar smoke. One more squinty pose at yourself in the mirror behind the liquor shelf before you tie your apron at the waist. That's when you notice your shoes stick to the floor a little, and reality creeps in.
Who worked the bar last night?! They did a awful job of cleaning up. You want ants? Cause this is how you get ants! You don't say any of this but it passes thru your mind with a gentle sigh.
A note on a napkin:
:::
Rev,
Ran out of fantasy bleach. placed order. delivery should come soon.
- Opal:::
Who was Opal again? Must be a new hire. A fly buzzes past you and you swat it with masterful precision. you check your hand to see its corpse, and grin. Sharp as ever... I still got "IT".
The front door chimes (ringalingaling), a cloud blocks the sun momentarily and the window light dims slightly. The room chills a few degrees. A knot forms in your stomach. Frissons rise on your neck.
No one is there. Was it the wind?
...
...
..."SIGN HERE PLEASE!"
Startled, you did not notice the pasty white 6'7" lanky mortician-looking MFer standing next to you in his khaki short shorts and fantasy UPS uniform. He's got a stack of boxes loaded on a hand truck and a fantasy device on a clipboard for signing off packages.
"Where is Mr. Jimmy (our usual delivery man)?" you wonder this to yourself as he hands you the clipboard, but all you can muster aloud is "uhhhh..."
"MR. JIMMY IS ON...
...
...
...
VACATION.
A VERY...
...
...
...
LONG VACATION. SIGN HERE PLEASE" -
Rev takes a second to squint at the delivery man, letting the flavor of him roll over his tongue. The taste of black licorice blossoms across his palette bitter and sweet, but it's the anise that lingers like a layer of velvet coating his mouth.
Rev does his best to make it look like he isn't cleaning his tongue on his teeth as he motion signs his name on the self-inking clipboard.
"Jimmys on vacation, eh? The first-time delivering to MeeMaws can be pretty intimidating for some. But surely not for a man like you, what with your imposing stature and ruggedly pallid charm. You're practically a fortress friend. How about a spritzer to ease your troubles and quench your thirst?"
Rev purposely dives below the counter before the behemoth lurch has a chance to reply and returns with a bubbling green concoction. Mint, lime, and the unmistakable aroma of herbal chartreuse settle over the bar. In a flourish of hands, Rev tops the slim glass with a garnish of lime peel and slides it across to the would-be delivery man.
"So friend, whats your name?"
-
@mianngu
Without moving an inch, the statue of a corpse of a man stares at you with an eternal sour. After a beat, his perturbed eyes cut to the drink, back to you, back to the drink, and back to you once more. His massive "adam's apple" betrays his demure, as it bobs up and back down again with ravenous intent. He still doesn't flinch, but tiny beads of clammy snot begin to pool on his forehead in tandem with the perspiring glass, still sizzling with tiny whispers of zest.A smirk in the corner of your mouth becomes a full-blown grin. You know you got him right where you want him.
His dry pale lips unglue:
"MY NAME...CAN NOT BE SPOKEN...IN COMMON TONGUE... THEY CALL ME...... (a real plank of wood this guy)
... (you lean an ear forward as to meet the word sooner)
... (OMG did he just die mid-sentence?)NOOOOMANNN...DAR...FFGSSH"
"Numan it is." You pat his shoulder and trade the clipboard for the drink with a quick sleight of hand.
"WE'RE REALLY... NOT SUPPOSED TO...DRINK ON THE JOB... BUT I SUPPOSE... IT WOULD BE RUDE... TO ROB YOU...
...
...
...
OF YOUR GENEROSITY."Your artisan skills are wasted here as Numan cocks his head back and inhales the drink in one crude motion, lime and all. His resets to position 1, but after a moment his eyebrows raise slightly and his ears lower. Quite the compliment.
"I SEE YOU'VE ONLY MOTIONED TO SIGN... THIS IS NOT THE NEWER SELF-INKING MODEL THAT JIMMY WAS USING. I HAVE A STYLUS IF YOU NEED...NO NEED TO WORRY ABOUT THE FINE PRINT... STANDARD PROCEDURE... TO DECLARE YOU RECEIVED THE DELIVERY."
-
@TableTopProphet
Character Name: Maxwell SterlingFantasy Race: Vishkanya (PF2e)
Appearance: Maxwell is 6'1" with a lean build. His facial scars from his past contrast with his clean appearance. He has short, dark hair that he slicks back, and his light brown eyes are watchful. He always wears a neat suit with a matching tie (which is always some shade of blue) and polished black shoes.
Personality: Maxwell is introverted, detail-oriented, and highly disciplined. He values structure and order in his life and tends to be reserved and serious. While he can be stubborn and overly critical at times, he is also deeply loyal and committed to his work and goals.
Gender/Pronouns: Male, He/Him
Kitchen Role/Job/Responsibilities: As a coffee maker at the restaurant, Maxwell crafts the perfect cup of coffee for each guest. He finds the best beans, grinds them carefully, and keeps track of brewing times and temperatures. (Hope this is alright)
Favorite Hobby: In his free time, Maxwell enjoys playing the piano, seeking perfection in his music as he does in his coffee making. He has a small collection of classical sheet music and often practices, always trying to improve his technique and emotion.
Major Fear: Maxwell's greatest fear is losing control over his life and going back to his past criminal activities. This thought scares him and pushes him to maintain order and discipline.
Major Flaw: His search for perfection often makes Maxwell unable to see the worth in the imperfect or the beauty in chaos. He can be critical of himself and others and may find it hard to make close friends because of his high expectations.
Life Goals: Maxwell wants to open his own high-end coffee shop where he can share his love for the perfect cup of coffee with more people. He also hopes to leave his past behind and find inner peace and self-acceptance.
Secrets: Maxwell has an estranged daughter from a previous relationship during his time in the criminal world. He hasn't seen her in years, and she doesn't know about his life as a coffee maker. He secretly sends her money and checks on her well-being without her knowing, hoping to reconnect and make up for his absence one day.
-
@KaeZero
4/10/23 recap@Faye : Xan the spice maker has just made some tea using trolls blood for an empowering morning brew, but dreams of her old job have gotten into the mix.
@Hanzilla : Boof just arrived and is prepping optimal seating arrangements for the evening. Being kindred spirits with Memaw, she is going to take some Tea and perhaps a charcuterie to Memaw for a chatty brunch and get the deets on tonight's guests.
@Kismet : Irenah the station chef is confronted by Gus regarding the inconsistency in last night's dessert topping. The truth is she clumsily spilled it while distracted with her food sculptures, but she'll need a good whimsical fib to calm Gus' OCD down.
@mianngu : Rev is talking to and unpacking the flavor of a strange delivery man.
@KaeZero :Maxwell is holding his hand out the basement hopper window allowing the cigarette smoke to dance in a curvy line toward the sun, which is especially warm today. Sweat has already begun to bead along the scar on your forehead, as well as soak the neckline of your collar and tie. The pomade that slicks your hair back is getting soggy. The hand you have out the window tingles hot on the window seal where it rests, tho you don't seem to care. The dancing smoke is met by your stern gaze, but your eyes are transfixed, daydreaming of another life as a pianist; each wisp of vertical smoke is like notes dancing on the horizontal staff of some jazzy sheet music, which you hum along to in your mind. One more drag of cool menthol which sits in the back of your throat, as you check over your shoulders to make sure you are still alone in the basement, and exhale with pursed lips in a concentrated gust towards the window. Memaw hates smoking but down here it is masked by the smell of the roaster, and she doesn't seem to notice.
Breaks over, you roll up your sleeves and take in the beautiful site: Several burlap sacks of raw coffee beans for roasting, freshly delivered, which you just finished bringing downstairs. (For tonight's guests, you can only pick one. Coffee is served with dessert after the meal and is the final touch before the Guests go to sleep.)
You're almost certain the guest list for tonight has been posted somewhere in the kitchen by now, but this heat has gotten you feeling quite unpresentable. Will you get cleaned up and go searching topside, or will you let fate guide you? Which bean will you be roasting for tonight's guests? What is your process?
:::
Starlight Beans - Originating from the highest peaks of the mystical Starfall Mountains, these beans are infused with the magical energy of the stars. When brewed into coffee, they are said to induce feelings of calm and tranquility, as well as improve the dreamer's ability to lucid dream. These beans have a smooth and mellow flavor with notes of caramel and chocolate.
Moonshadow Beans - Grown in the dark forests of the Shadowlands, these beans have a subtle but powerful effect on the dreamer's subconscious mind. When consumed, they are said to enhance creativity and imagination, making dreams more vivid and memorable. These beans have a rich and earthy flavor with notes of dark chocolate and nutmeg.
Sunfire Beans - Harvested from the sun-drenched fields of the Fire Kingdom, these beans are infused with the fiery energy of the sun. When brewed into coffee, they are said to boost energy levels and stimulate the mind, making it easier to focus on lucid dreaming techniques. These beans have a bold and spicy flavor with notes of cinnamon and clove.
Ocean Mist Beans - Grown on the misty shores of the Mermaid Isles, these beans have a soothing effect on the mind and body. When brewed into coffee, they are said to induce feelings of relaxation and peace, helping dreamers to enter a calm and restful state. These beans have a light and refreshing flavor with notes of citrus and jasmine.
Shadowblade Beans - Grown in the shadowy forests of the Dark Kingdom, these beans have a potent effect on the dreamer's emotions. When consumed, they are said to amplify feelings of passion and desire, making dreams more intense and thrilling. These beans have a bold and smoky flavor with notes of dark chocolate and black pepper.
Enchanted Forest Beans - Grown in the heart of the Enchanted Forest, these beans are infused with the magical energy of nature itself. When brewed into coffee, they are said to enhance the dreamer's connection to the natural world, making dreams more mystical and otherworldly. These beans have a delicate and floral flavor with notes of lavender and honeysuckle.
:::
-
@TableTopProphet
“Oh, Gus! Hi hello! I didn’t see you there, yes yes uh last night… I do believe there was a little mishap with some ˢᵖᶦˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵖᵖᶦⁿᵍˢ but the important thing here is that I’ve got a new batch coming in and I’ve made some excellent progress on my latest little sculpture!”I reveal a small sculpture from behind my back and jiggle it expectantly at Gus. It’s a small bust of Gus himself, it's been crafted from some kind of green goop.
LiveTale Art Director
-
goo gus has entered the chat
-
The revulsion of watching his craft be inhaled by the goliath rolls across Rev's face. He manages to school his features into a raised eyebrow and slight pursing of his lips. But the shock tinges his voice as he grabs another glass...
"No, no, no friend! You have to savor it! This is s symphony. A magnum opus of tangy fruity delight!"
Rev takes his time placing another slim glass upon the counter. His anger permeates into exaggerated movements as he fills it with ice and begins to crush the mint with mortar and pestal.
"First, ice to cool the glass and refresh, then mint to sing and zing into your very toes. Yea those things way down there. Heavens to betsie, those boots are made for stomping.?
Rev glances up briefly, noting the agitated quiver in Numan's brow, the tremor in his hands.
"I know you are new, but Jimmy would always sit with me for a couple of drinks. Now, we add the lime for that pucker and a little of this and that, until finally..."
Rev squeezes half a lime into the perspiring glass, followed by a flurry of half pours, until he unveils a green bottle label yellowed with age.
"Mon amour."
Uncorking it, he inhales deeply, eyes fluttering in euphoric pleasure as he pours generously into the glass, topping it with another sprig of lime peel. Numan white knuckles the drink and makes to slosh it to the back of his throat, but he is quickly distracted by Rev dangling from his wrist.
"NNNNNoooooo, you have to smell it first mon bête noire!"
Settling back behind the bar, Rev takes a second to yank down his vest and run a hand through his hair.
"Now, first a sniff then a sip! By the way - " Rev stops to motion to the packages on the hand cart, "Is this the jugs of vinegar Opal ordered? We ran out yesterday, and there's no way those pickles are gonna brine themselves!"
-
@TableTopProphet
Maxwell touched his hair with a finger to check the damage the heat had caused. "Will it do?" he thought. No, he knew better; there was no need to hurry, as haste led to doubt, and too much could harm his work. He washed his hair in the sink and dried it with a hand towel and the sun's help. As he did so, he got lost in thought.The basement offered benefits: he could concentrate on his work, gather himself, and dodge curious glances at his scars. But on a hot day like this, maintaining a balanced mood was challenging. Nevertheless, he inhaled the aroma of the beans slowly, finding the basement captured the scent well, and it helped Maxwell regain focus. He couldn't let his emotions affect the feeling he wanted the coffee to evoke.
"Focus, take it in, let the beans tell you how they wish to be prepared."
Each burlap sack emitted a unique rhythm, and he listened. One carried a tune of reminiscence, another a song of loss and acceptance, and yet another a joyous, uplifting hum. Regardless of the guest, Maxwell would be ready to offer the right atmosphere. A gentle smile crossed his face, knowing he would be prepared to create a perfect end to their night.
He snapped out of his reverie, realizing he needed the list. Maxwell applied pomade once more, adjusted his tie, and donned his suit jacket. After a final glance in the mirror, he nodded to himself and headed upstairs to find the guest list.
-
A flicker of movement draws Revs attention from the trap he has laid, the lubricious coiffure of Maxwell bobbing into view from the basement stairs. His movements measured and sure as he reaches the summit of the landing, and Rev calls to him,
"Maxwell! I have something you must taste, I'm sure it will be so good you'll finish every last drop!"
Numans head jerks to toward the back room, eyes bulging as Maxwells lithe form crosses the threshold.
"Come meet my new friend, Numan. "
-
@mianngu
The moment Maxwell stepped onto the main floor, Rev called him over. A cold drink did sound tempting after the heat he'd endured.Maxwell paused, seeing an unfamiliar, tall frame. BY reflex mind started a threat assessment, but he quickly dismissed it. The man was clearly just making a delivery.
"Morning, Rev," Maxwell said. "Care to introduce your new friend?"
As he spoke, Maxwell reached out to shake Numan's hand. "Pleasure to meet you," he added, staying polite and composed
-
@Kismet
"Who is that supposed to be?!" barks Gus as he has a bad eye for art, especially art of the gelatinous medium.He sighs and surrenders to whatever it is you're up to.
"Fine! You know what? doesn't matter. (He turns to the kitchen) EVERYONE! CHANGE ON TONIGHT'S MENU, WE'RE SERVING FANTASY JELLO WITH SOME SORT OF... ORANGE? TOPPING? IRENAH WILL GET YOU THE DETAILS. LET'S MAKE A COHESIVE DINING EXPERIENCE TONIGHT, PEOPLE, WE DON'T WANT A REPEAT OF THE FANTASY EASTER FESTIVAL. LET'S GET TO WORK! DON'T LET YOUR DREAMS BE MEMES!"
(Gus catches Irenah's shoulder before she can slip away. You look at his hand with concern, and Gus let's go only realizing his error of grabbing you after he had already done it. he tilts his head and rolls his eyes with an informal "sorry" and continues his boss-splaining. )
"You're lucky the pastry chef called in sick today."
You smile knowing what this means, and Gus grins because he knows you've been waiting for this moment.
"Get it over to the spice station and work out your dream flavor profile with Xan ( @Faye ). Then make sure Max ( @KaeZero ) and Rev ( @mianngu ) know how to pair it with a good coffee and night cap. The Presentation is great, station chef... and I see no Satyr hairs in it this time. It's an improvement, and oddly.... handsome. But don't shirk your other responsibilities. I need you focused. Some of these guest have been booked for years, and (he repeats himself) we don't need another fantasy Easter festival on our hands. understood?"
-
Numan's head is spinning between drinks, handshakes, and questions. He's probably never had so much attention all at once in his life. The vein pulsing in his forehead says so (or is that a worm?). If his cheeks could blush, they would.
This author doesn't know what a panicking sloth looks like, but I'd imagine it to be something like what Numan is doing at this moment.
In a tizzy, Numan sniffs Maxwell's hand and shakes the drink, sloshing most of it about on the floor and everyone in proximity. Then he corrects himself, shaking Maxwell's hands and sniffing what few drops remain of Rev's drink.
SORRY...I
...
...
NOOOOMANNN...DAR...FFGSSH
...
THE PLEASURE IS ALL
...
...
...
THE BOXES ARE....
...
...
...
DID YOU JUST CALL ME...
...
...
...
FRIEND?"His cataract-ridden eyes would water if they could. His tear ducts sigh with tiny comedic squeals like squeezing the air out of tiny balloons. He grins from ear to ear. All he ever wanted was a friend. Numan lifts a pinkie from the glass as he awkwardly attempts to savor the last few drops that remain unspilled.
As he raises the glass to his lips, from this angle Rev notices a tiny ladybug tattoo on his wrist, turning knots in his stomach.
Numan readjusts. He drops the glass clumsily and then "quickly" grabs the Signing Tablet.
"NO NEED TO SIGN...
... I WILL VOUCH... FOR
...
...
...
HAVE A GOOD DAY."he "rushes" out the door in a scramble. Both Max and Rev's faces read "WTF" as the door chimes again on the swing back.
