Ah, a snarker. ”Well, if you want it really bad, I could always chase down that hollow that was in and get the boss to cook the body, but I doubt that’s your thing. Other than that we’ve got some fish I caught the other day. There’s a really good trout in the back if you want it. I’m not a cook though, so you’d have to tell me how to tell the boss how you want it.”

SPOILER: Click to show

Crap post is crap

Rip stared at him for a moment.

"Trout, you say?" He didn't really like trout. Or, to be more precise, he didn't really want trout. After the tantalizing, teasing aroma of the stew everything else seemed cheap and unsatisfying. He mulled the choice over in his head. It didn't look good, from any direction.

But wait! What was this? He sniffed the air... sniffsniff. The was the faintest of aromas. Reminiscent of the stew of the past. He glanced sidelong at the shinigami, who had invaded his table and taken the last of the delicious dish. But no. The smell was not coming from that direction. Oh no.

He sniffed again.

Ah yes. There it was. A faint whiff. Coming from the kitchen. More stew! With something different in it... He couldn't quite place. No matter. He stopped his sniffing, and focused on the man before him, "I think I'll pass on the fish, thanks. Whatever smells so good, though, I'll take that. When it's ready."

Sengoku hummed a tune as he stirred the stew, watching it simmer and thicken. A he cooked, he took pull from a bottle of dark brown liquor, then set i aside on a small shelf. He lifted the spoon to his lips, took a sip of the broth, and let it settle on hispallet or a moment. A swish, a swallow, and a sack of the lips left Sengoku feeling the stew needed a pinch of salt, a grind of pepper, and a bay leaf.

These additions made, Sengoku declared the stew ready for serving and settled into his chair in the corner of the kitchen to relax a bit. He figured he would be leading te patrols tonight himself. With an Arrancar so nearby, it seemed like a bad idea to sit this one out. If the Arrancar killed anyone tonight, he'd be unable to forgive himself for not destroying it here and now.

Surely there would be a time for more interesting things to happen! As it were, Chie was leisurely eating her delicious stew, mentally thanking the chef. Why hadn't she asked for a drink, though? Her throat was beginning to grow parched, and a lovely beverage was always a great compliment to a meal. A cold glass of water would be wonderful right now... Oh how she thought longingly of a drink as she began to look around for that waiter fellow. Trying to catch his eye, she hoped he would glimpse her looking at him and take the much needed cue.

And then she spilled soup on her clothes.

She had moved carelessly, and a bit sleepily one might add. With a clumsy sweep of her hand, she tipped the bowl over just enough to splosh hot soup down the front of her kimono. Naturally, the open, laced garment at her chest gave no protection, and as righted the bowl quickly, she stood with a painful yelp.

"OW!" she cried.

Feeling suddenly unwell, perhaps due to his meal, Miha excused himself from duty. A hand clamped over his mouth, coupled with the pale pallor he had suddenly taken, left little to deduce. The poor man was about to christen the floor with the bile from his gut, lest he make haste out of the door.

Running full tilt out of the room, he exited through the kitchen, undoubtedly passing his employer, where he would heave his lunch (from the sounds of it, most painfully) just outside the backdoor. Now, one cannot lay blame on the cooking of his good boss, for the man was a keen culinary artist. However, Miha may have ran astray of something else he should not have ingested. Regardless of the hijinks that caused this awful moment, he was no longer fit to work. Hopefully Sengoku would be forgiving, as such illness could not be kept around a place of food! It wasn't healthy!


As per activity rules, Mihamaru has been exited. Please continue to post

See thread for activity rules

Rewards - 9/2=5 RP points rounding up. Added to profile

And then he was gone. He didn't even bother to confirm Rip's order. Just turned an awful shade of green, threw his hand to his mouth, and took off. How rude.

Rip frowned. Now how would he get his food? He wondered briefly if it would be taboo for him to get it himself. But his thoughts were interrupted by a cry of pain emanating from a familiar table. He turned. He looked. A scene most tragic greeted him. Not only had this... woman taken his table, taken his stew, taken all the joy he had in this world; she now had the audacity to spill it all over herself!

He stood, drawing a cloth from his belt, and approached. He offered said cloth to the woman, smiling amiably, "By the gods, woman. Who taught you how to eat? You're doing it all wrong. The food needs to pass through your mouth first."

Chie's cry brought Sengoku back into the here and now, and drew him out of the kitchen to see what was wrong. He'd thought maybe the hollow had come back, and as such he had a meat cleaver in his left hand and a flensing knife in his right. The man didn't quite remember grabbing them, but he had them, and he was fairly certain on how to use them. His eyes snapped to the entrance, then to the source of the cry, then around the room/ He stood just in the doorway of the kitchen, his stance and posture relaxed and pleasant, but an air of tension hung about him. It was then he saw Mihamaru making a break for the exit, and rolled his eyes. "Hell's Bells, boy, I TOLD you not to eat from the stuff in the top cabinet!" He cried after Mihamaru's retreating form. He kept his food that was about to spoil in that cabinet, and Mihamaru being the sneaky little twerp he was, had probably gotten into it. Sighing, Sengoku put the knives back in the kitchen and grabbed a small, clean towel. He pressed the towel into Chie's hands, then hurried to see to the customer that Mihamaru had abandoned.


"So sorry about that sir. Nature calls, you gotta answer. I'm sure you know how it is. What were you ordering?"

Chie missed Mihamaru's hasty exit, having been occupied with the sudden explosion of soup upon her person. Having no towel or cloth to wipe herself clean of the food, she looked helplessly around the room. It was then that man she noticed earlier, a scruffy looking ruffian type, approached her.

Nonplussed, she tremored visibly, only to stop once he spoke in a friendly manner. She attempted to match his smile with one of her own as he joked, but only managed a wince as she gingerly took the cloth from his hand, only to be greeted with another towel pressed upon her.

"T-T-Thank you," she managed to squeak out in a terribly soft voice, flicking her gaze at both the scruffy gent and the OTHER scruffy looking man. There was much scruffiness to be had, it seemed. Dabbing tenderly, she attempted to mop the mess off herself while she stammered out an apology to the man she took to be the owner of the place. She had never met him, nor had she ever been in this place, so she really didn't know.

"I'm t-t-terribly sorry about the mess...what a waste of perfectly g-g-good food..." She flushed, a light pink creeping up to stain her pale cheeks.

Scruffiness abounds! Indeed!

Rip's smile remained as the woman stammered and squeeked. She was amusing. It flickered momentarily when the owner addressed him, and he stared at Sengoku for a moment, then blinked.

"Stew! That mighty fine aroma has piqued my interest! Gotten the saliva flowing. A large bowl, if you please. He paused, considered, then added, "And a glass of water would be grand."

He flashed a quick smile, then returned his attention to the woman. He nabbed an empty chair and scooted up to sit at her (HIS) table. "So. Difficulty eating, difficulty speaking. You sure you're cut out to shinigami-around? What if someone attacked you with a baquette?" He cocked his head to one side, and grinned lopsided.

As per activity rules, Sengoku has been exited.

See thread for activity rules

Rewards - 12/2= 6RP. Added to profile.

Sengoku departed, appearing to take Rip's order. What they didn't know was that the man actually exited out of the kitchen's back door. Perhaps he was going to track down his sick employee, or perhaps he too felt suddenly sick! The world may never know..

---

Finally cleaned of the stew, Chie balefully eyed the remained of her stew. At least half of it was still in the bowl..but the other half was wasted, now staining the front of her clothes.

Meanwhile, Chie noted the departure of Sengoku, managing to stammer out "C-Could I have a glass of water too?" She also noted with worry that the odd looking guy with the mohawk was now sitting at her table. Forcing a polite, but very timid smile, Chie sat down in her chair. What could he want? Perhaps he wanted company? Or worse yet, perhaps he was some manner of ruffian and wanted to bully her.

Lowering her hood, as she felt it impolite to keep it up while entertaining company, she flicked her eyes about the bar. There were other guests still about the place, so there were witnesses in case her new table buddy wanted to try anything funny. Returning her attention to him, she caught the end of what he was saying.

"Attack me with a baquette?!" she squeaked in horror, eyes widening as she pressed her hands to her mouth. "Who would do such a dastardly thing?"

"Any manner of loathsome fiend!" He gestured ambiguously about the tavern. He paused. Jabbed a finger in the direction of a random stranger at the bar, "That guy. He could be plotting to assault someone with a baguette as we speak!"

He leaned in, conspiratorially, and whispered, "Let's hope it's not whole wheat..."

He leaned back again, and took note of the woman before him. She had the tiniest nose. Rip focused on it. Mayhaps because his was so large, but he couldn't look away. He tilted his head. Squinted his eyes. If he squinted just right, with his head turned just so... it disappeared! Ha! He smiled.

"You have a very small nose."

Chie's gaze followed to where the random stranger sat at the bar, and a reaction of dawning horror played across her face. It was a perfectly readable expression, one the man at her table should surely understand. It simply showed that she was envisioning the stranger attacking her with a baquette, a whole wheat one at that, and the thought appeared absolutely terrifying to her.

Of course, while Rip was examining her, she was busy looking elsewhere. Yet again, his caught her unawares with another strange statement.

Pale pink stained her cheeks as she self-consciously touched her nose. "Y-Yes..I supposed it is very odd, isn't it.." Then again, she was an odd creature, but her present company was just as odd, not that she would point such a thing out.

Her expression of horror did not escape him. But he felt it was justified. A crazy man with a baguette was a force to be reckoned with, one whom you did not take lightly. Who knows what he might plan to do with it? One shudders to think.

Alas, though, he did not have the chance to further express to her the dangers of baguettes, as his attention was wholly occupied by her nose. How did one smell with such a tiny thing? The nostrils weren't big enough. It was a wonder she didn't suffocate when her mouth was closed.

Absentmindedly, he tapped the side of his own generous smeller. "Yes. Rather odd, indeed... How do you breathe when your mouth is closed? I can't even tell if you've got nostrils." He wore an expression of genuine curiousity. Because, well, he was genuinely curious.

Flushing a little brighter at his question, Chie stared at the ruffian with a bemused expression. How can she breath? What kind of question was that? Tilting her head up, she delicately pointed to the exposed slits that one would call nostrils.

"I can breathe rather well, although...I have been prone to bouts of sickness since childhood... Perhaps the two correlate in some manner? I doubt it though, since I am perfectly healthy now," she added, tilting her head back down to look at the man. He did have a rather large nose, didn't he? A lot about him seemed to be exaggerated, like his nose and his wild colored hair. Even his mannerisms were odd and memorable, perhaps even wacky. After all, who found nostril size to be appropriate dinner conversation?

As she tilted her head up, indicating what passed for her nostrils, Rip leaned forward and squinted. They were barely even slits! They might as well have just been slight indentations against the skin, for all the good they were doing. No wonder she was prone to sickness. Not enough airflow through the nasal passages. Tsk tsk.

He leaned back. Frowning. "How do you know you breathe rather well? If your airflow has always been restricted by your lack of nostril, you would never know what it was like to actually breathe well." He paused. Pondered. Scratched his not inconsiderable sized nose. Added, "Who knows? You may be slowly suffocating as we speak. You look rather pale... are you feeling lightheaded?"

The poor thing could keel over any minute!

Had the times been different, and universes alternate, Chie might have likened her 'slits' for nostrils to a great literary figure of infamy, a man of power and skill, of cunning and deception. She would have related to him, most certainly.

Alas, it was not meant to be, and she would never find solace in knowing, even in the imagination of others, that somewhere in a dream, she would find brethren.

Be that as it may, back to our current situation, Chie's face tilted back downward and she regarded the rag-tag man before her with a warm smile. "It is kind of you to show compassion to a stranger, thank you. I am always this pale, I am afraid. It was a gift from my father," she added that last bit at the end as an after thought after a moment's pause. Her speech was much softer now, less of the timid I'm-a-trapped-animal variety. She kept a wary eye on her dining companion, make no mistake, but he had made an effort to go through the niceties. That deserved a reward.

Not to be wasteful, she spooned up a bit of the stew still in her bowl, finding it to be cooling rapidly since the great sploshing incident. Still, the remains were quite tasty and unsullied, but it didn't quite warm her bones.

Aha! She was warming up to him. Rip smiled back, "Don't mention it." She paused, though, before adding that bit about her father.

"That's a terrible gift. Can't imagine the sunburns you get..." He trailed off. Sunburns were awful! He had gotten a few in his day. You'd think being able to light yourself on fire would provide some sort of resistance to such petty things as sunburns. But no. It's a cruel, cruel world we live in.

His eyes had wandered down to her soup, but trailed back up following the path of her spoon. "I suppose, though, that's why you wear the hood? Personally I'd just run around with a parasol. Much more stylish."

Fingering the soft material of pants, she nodded. "Yes, my fair complexion does make me vulnerable to sunburns, but I spend a fair share of my time indoors. My duties tend to be of the inside variety, since I have been unwell in the past and known for that frailty. I am also of little consequence, so I am best suited for tending to inside chores."

Her career as a shinigami wasn't particularly glamorous, a grunt like herself was often shunted toward some form of tedious labor. However, she rarely had to do strenuous manual labor, something she was grateful for.

She paused in their conversation, daring to finish off the few spoonfuls of soup left in her bowl. She did not wish to eat while she was speaking or while he was, such a thing would be impolite.

"I dare say I would like a parasol, but they stand out so much..." she bit her bottom lip, as if she couldn't dare to be so bold to stand out and be noticed.

"But enough about myself," she smiled politely. "May I ask your name?"

By now, she was beginning to grow thirsty, but she kept her attention on her table companion. It would be rather rude to flick her gaze about the room, as she did not wish for him to think she found him boring.

"Aha! That is quite fortuitous, then. Being of little consequence saves you from the terrors of the day. Lucky indeed." He smiled, allowing the conversation to lull while she polished off her stew. An interesting creature. Rip would have continued speaking around mouthfuls. But, he supposed, some people had manners.

"That's the point! You'd make all the other shinigami envious of your magnificent parasol. It'd suit you. The parasol, I mean. I expect being the envy of everyone might not sit so well with you." He cocked his head to one side, slightly. "I would love a parasol. But you've gotta match, otherwise you'd just look silly. It's hard to find things that match..." He gestured vaguely at all of him, "... this.

"Oh! Uh... Rip." He paused, looking slightly confused, before smiling and extending a hand, "Pleasure to meet you."

Chie smiled as the man gestured at him in an attempt to explain his lack of compatibility with a parasol. She never pictured owning one herself, though perhaps it would suit her. She associated such luxury times with the glamorous and beautiful, traits she wouldn't say applied to her persay. Naturally, she was pretty, there was no point in denying that. She was not one of those creatures who had no personal worth. But, she wasn't a beauty, nor glamorous.

Reaching across the table, she gripped his hand with her own, firm but gentle.

"My name is Chie, its a pleasure to meet you, Rip."

"Indeed it is!" He grinned widely, "I do often make the world a brighter place. Or a scruffier one. Definitely one or the other." He glanced conspiratorially about, before leaning in close, "But don't tell anyone. Otherwise everyone will want to meet me."

He leaned back again, and released her hand, "Despite my brilliance, though, it would appear we have been forgotten. Was really looking forward to that stew..."

SPOILER: Click to show

Sorry for the short post. Couldn't think of much else right now.

Smiling bashfully, Chie giggled at his playful tone. "Do you not wish to rush forth and meet the entirety of the populace?" She couldn't blame him, as the idea of meeting everyone just sounded utterly horrible. Retracting her hand, she kept her smile on her face. He would notice she was warming up to him considerably, since she had not flinched or made an unhappy expression when he invaded her personal space.

He seemed okay, so she was beginning to feel comfortable around him, or so she acted at least.

Relieved he noted of the absence of their service, she licked her lips and looked around the room. There was no sign of either men that worked there, and many customers were beginning to walk out of the tavern in obvious displeasure.

"I suppose I won't be getting my water...I wonder what happened to them." Chie's voice was low and thoughtful as she peeked around the room bravely.

"Ha! No." He smiled playfully, "I think you'll agree when I say the entirety of the populace can shove it." He liked this girl. Shy, sure, but comically so. The conversation thus far had been quite entertaining. And she seemed to be opening up, which was good! Now the only thing standing between a beautiful friendship is the fact that she had stolen his table. Though, to be honest, he had basically invaded it and reclaimed a portion for himself. So maybe he could look passed thos past transgressions.

He glanced about the rest of the tavern, watching the retreating patrons. Where had those two gone off to? Terrible way to run a business. He took especial note of the lack of the man by the bar. "Mayhaps the alleged Baguette Assaulter from the bar ran them off. Jealous of the proprietor's stew making prowess. No man is a match for an angry, jealous baguette warrior," he paused, considering, "Baguette-ior? Warr-guette?"

Chie flushed at his bold statement. She would never think to say something so brash about people. Perhaps he was right, though admitting that would divert from her persona, and a kind, gentle creature such as herself would not behave in such a manner!

While she was beginning to enjoy his company, she felt, perhaps, it was time to return home. Clearly, they were not going to be waited on by the staff, so lingering any longer would be loitering, or perhaps trespassing!

Her eyes widened again at the mention of the fiend with the baquettes, and she let her gaze flicker back and forth nervously. "W-W-Whatever the cause," she stammered nervously, "perhaps it is best we go. I hope you do not find it terribly rude that I cut our visit short. It has been a pleasure meeting you, sir. I do hope to come across you again," she had stood at this point, bowing to him. Her long, silver hair skirted the floor as she bent at a near perfect 90 degrees. She would keep an eye out for this strange, interesting man in the future.

She would wait for his response, offering a small, timid smile as she looked at him.

Most everyone else in the tavern had left by this point. Apparently they were all thinking the same thing; the bar was closed. He stole one more quick glance about the place as Chie spoke, before nodding his agreement. It was probably best that they leave. He was like to starve if he stuck around here much longer. Would be a good idea to seek out his breakfast elsewhere.

He stood as well, bowing in turn, "Not rude at all." He offered a friendly grin, "And the pleasure was all mine. It's not every day you meet an interesting young Shinigami with a secret love of parasols," he paused. Then added with a playful smile, "Or an unfortunate fear of baguettes."

He stepped away from the table, "I look forward to running into you again," and gestured towards the door, "After you."

[Exit, ostensibly]

Still smiling bashfully, she turned and strolled out of the door. He was rather friendly, wasn't he? She hoped to meet him again, after all a friendly face was far and few between. People tended to overlook her, since she was so quiet.

Waving her goodbyes, she retreated toward home. Only when she was nearly there did she remember that she forgot to pay for her meal.

Oh no..

>.<

(Exit/End)

Thread Rewards:

Chie - 17 RP

Rip - 15 RP

Andra - 3 RP

Points added to profiles and thread locked.