Cain (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
baguablade) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nysalogs2017-10-06 05:08 pm
baguablade) wrote in nysalogs2017-10-06 05:08 pm
Entry tags:
( open )
Who: Cain (baguablade) & you!
What: event catch-all - investigating, hunting down bad guys, making (bad) medicinal soup, whatever
When: post attack
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): none
( a : no hunting like the hunting of man )
( b : painted full of tongues )
( c : toil and trouble )
( d : wildcard )
baguablade) & you! What: event catch-all - investigating, hunting down bad guys, making (bad) medicinal soup, whatever
When: post attack
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): none
( a : no hunting like the hunting of man )
[ The group gathered in the market is strangely subdued, even for the wariness that's fallen over the place after the attack. There's something going around, glazed-over eyes and jerky movements, oddly shuffling feet as the group makes its way through the district. Some of the men and women bump into things and seem not to notice; others are laughing and chatting far too loudly, stilted — an obvious act.
At the center of the group is a man, bright-eyed and alert, the only one looking anything resembling normal. His sleeves are pulled down, but as he turns, one rides up, revealing a large "M" on his wrist.
One of the Shady Man's associates — and while the group hasn't noticed yet, sharp-eyed individuals might pick out Cain following along behind the group, taking a meandering path through the market as he trails their steps. He seems relaxed and at ease, but his gaze is sharp, watching the man, and his hand never strays far from the hilt of his sword.
Whether you're just passing by, doing your own shopping, or whether you're hunting the tattooed man, too, straying too close to the group has Cain abruptly stepping up behind you, grabbing your arm, and pulling you back into the shadows of an alley. ]
Hey. [ Low, hissed with urgency. ] Don't get near them, or you'll get caught, too.
( b : painted full of tongues )
[ It's not exactly the nicest of bars in town, paint peeling, tables uneven, the lighting dim and flickering, suspicious stains on the floor. But it is exactly the sort of bar that men who've recently helped set off a virus-laden bomb in the center of the city might frequent, an establishment where the drink is cheap, the customers are unfriendly, and no one asks too many questions.
Cain, of course, has come here to ask far too many questions.
He's nursing a drink (untouched, he keeps pouring a little bit of it out when it seems like no one's watching) and listening to the very interesting conversation going on nearby — the conversation between two women with "M" tattoos on their wrists.
Meet his eyes, catch onto what he's doing — if you approach him, he'll smile at you like an old friend. ]
There you are. What do you want to drink?
( c : toil and trouble )
[ The soup Cain's cooking can't exactly be called soup when it's neon-blue and roiling, letting off faintly pinkish steam. With the large cast-iron stewpot he's making it in, it looks more like a witch's brew in a cauldron than soup. Also it somehow smells like both fresh laundry and wet dog. Mysterious, but hopefully something to help with the equally mysterious illness going around after the market attack — the large chunk of also mysterious sea creature tooth that he's ground a bit of and used as seasoning might help, considering its medicinal properties. Or it might not, but either way, Cain stripped down to pants, undershirt, and under-gauntlets and wielding a wooden stirring spoon over the cheerfully bubbling not-soup is certainly a sight.
And hard to ignore, since he's cooking it in the kitchen of his apartment with the windows thrown wide open. Anyone passing by could easily catch sight of the cloud of pink vapors, catch a whiff of the (very strong) smell, or even hear Cain talking to himself. ]
It's probably not enough to reanimate the dead...
[ You might even pass by just in time to hear the loud roar of something combusting. Cain's startled yelp and the gooey blue soup going everywhere is pretty hard to miss. ]
( d : wildcard )
( If there's anything else you'd like to plot out with me, I'm available atidelva or through PMs! )
no subject
[ He goes back to studying his concoction. By the time the young man makes his way inside, he's abandoned the spoon for a large knife and is carefully carving a sliver off of the huge chunk of tooth — it has a few similar scraped lines on it already, indicating this isn't the first time Cain's gone through this process.
Only then does he answer the rest of what the man's said. ]
It's a curative, for those who've fallen ill. [ The "soup" burbles, and he adds, wryly: ] Well, it's meant to be.
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[Linneus isn't sure he should have to state this like it's a bad thing but... it's a bad thing, even without it smoking pink. Between those two facts and the... distinctive smell coming off it, shouldn't this young man perhaps have taken the memo to maybe try starting again...?]
My name is Linneus. I don't mean to come into your house and criticise your cooking but...what on earth did you do to make it blue?
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[ Introductions done, now it's not a stranger in his house, criticizing his cooking! If it can even be called cooking... But starting over would be admitting defeat! Which... may have to happen soon. Still, Cain's trying to salvage his first attempt. ]
I added some of this.
[ He taps his wooden spoon against the tooth. Where drops of the soup fall from the spoon to touch the golden tooth, they solidify into what look like green plastic. Hmm. Not a good sign.
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[it's not that he's not sure, it's just that he's a tad distracted with the array of strange ingredients. It's entirely possible that he may need to admit defeat, at this rate.]
What is that?
[he knows what it looks like, but he has never seen a tooth so big - he's almost more inclined to believe it to be something else. Recoiling slightly at the strange... reaction, taking place. That's kind of gross...]
I'm... not sure that's fit to be consumed.
no subject
[ The skeleton had looked dragonish, at least. And more importantly, had the same sort of amplification properties as similar substances Cain was familiar with! He's just not that worried about the exact nature of strange, magical beast. They're all similar in the end, one huge fireball-spitting monster the same as the next huge fireball-spitting monster. ]
And I barely put any in. Honestly, I wasn't expecting quite this much of a reaction.
no subject
[he doesn't know much about biology but it pretty sure that all manner of things will be gummed up by that greenish... whatever it is.]
I'm not even sure it can - would you be able to eat this?
no subject
[ Cain pauses a moment to look at the soup. It burbles. A bubble boils up and pops, releasing what looks like a silvery powder. Somehow. Even though it's a liquid.
Into the dubious silence left in the wake of that display, he amends: ]
Well, none of the ingredients are poisonous.
no subject
Not individually.
[but Linneus thinks it's highly possible that Cain has been unknowingly engaged in alchemy, here]
no subject
For his part, Cain sighs and sets down his spoon. The bubble and the silver powder really is too much, even for him. ]
In combination, they might be. [ Rueful, giving in to the obvious. ] I'll start over. Maybe I should just use a pinch of ground tooth...
no subject
[all of these colours are a little disconcerting, especially if he intends to feed it to the sick...]
Perhaps we can make another. What other ingredients did you use?
no subject
[ He peers into the soup, searching for any sign of said vegetables. There's nothing, though. They seem to have liquefied. Hmm, that definitely is a mark against suitable to feed to living creatures... ]
Oh, but I did have a bit of rock from back home. I thought that might serve as a catalyst.
[ Yep. A rock. A pebble, to be more precise, that just happened to be in his shoe! ]
no subject
He considers himself quite a patient person but this is... troubling, baffling, horrifying all at once]
Vegetables. Have you used them all, or shall we go back to the market for more?
no subject
Slowly, cautiously, Cain answers. ]
I have a few tomatoes left...?
no subject
[the fact that he is iffy on tomato may suggest his stance on grating tooth and lobbing bits of random stone into the soup]
We shall have to shop, I think.
no subject
[ Honesty, Cain's looking a little overwhelmed, his eyes gone a little wide as Lenneus reels off the orders. What exactly has he committed himself to here? Surely not actual cooking... ]
no subject
[this, a graceful gesture to the blue-coloured, silver-bubbling, pink-steaming, wet-dog-smelling concoction on the stove. His composure is not a thing easily lost, but he is near-faint in his disbelief at this point. Or maybe that's the fumes...]
Or-- what was your aim? To finish them off?
[because this will certainly do it.
Oh, he needs to sit down]
no subject
[ Does it really seem that bad? Sure, the soup doesn't really seem edible, but enough that his intentions are in question now?? Cain's genuinely alarmed — more so when he looks over and catches a glimpse of how pale Lenneus's face is. Uh oh.
Hastily, Cain grabs Lenneus's arm, propping him up as he guides Lenneus to a seat. ]
I was going for a curative potion. Maybe you need one, you're not looking so great...
no subject
[he may have an unassuming exterior, but in rare cases Linn can be like a dog with a bone - and this is one of those cases, even as he is being steered to sit.]
no subject
[ And having watched, surely he knows enough of the basics — well, the theory — that the blithe confidence in his voice is totally warranted! ]
no subject
[a light shake of his head]
I still think you should set your sights a little lower, as much as you may not wish to.
no subject
[ He's curious rather than belligerent, cocking his head to the side to give Linneus a questioning look. He does genuinely want to know what a lower goal would be to aim for. After all, he'd thought he wasn't aiming all that high to start with — how difficult could soup with a few curative properties be?
Very difficult, apparently, but hey, learn something new every day! ]
no subject
[less alchemy. More cooking]
I still think that soup may be a better start.
no subject
[ His voice lilts up in a hopeful manner. Surely that's aiming low enough, going for a successful pot of soup first? ]
no subject
[he doesn't know exactly what he means but he is willing to relent-]
We can add a small amount - to a single serving, just to see what happens.
[he is not going to wreck another perfectly good soup]
But this-- [a little gesture to the current concoction] I'm sorry, but this goes away.
no subject
One serving, then. And before that, soup. [ He gives in with good grace, spreading, his hands. Giving way to the master? ] So, what first?
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