Have You Seen My Son
Well-known member
I'd be chill with it, would add to the strange and mixed nature of my foreign world/nation.
Ye Are Gods (Sign-up and OOC)
- Thread starter almostinsane
- Start date
I'd be chill with it, would add to the strange and mixed nature of my foreign world/nation.
Reimu Hakurei
Fantasy Heaven
Naga The Serpent
Well-known member
It definitely sounds like the kind of thing my avatar would join!
Have You Seen My Son
Well-known member
And you have my axe!
And the epic song of the antics would totally be something the Dancer would write if she were along, although fair warning, if she's there you will constantly be facing rum shortages!
Have You Seen My Son
Well-known member
Don't you dare! We are dumping your drunk butt overboard, Dancer! XD
Character Sheet: Pestocali
ConvexAtaraxia
Member
Name: Pestocali, Bullion Lord
Concepts: Cooking, Restoration, Fertility
Gender: Male
Alignment: True Neutral
An existence that simply adores life, but beyond that, adores life for the sake of maintaining life. While originally born with the moniker of a fertility god and only going on to acquire distinct purviews later in his existence, those secondary purviews have become the primary. More than considering himself a god of fertility, he is a god of cooking.
He does not consider himself a mighty god. His pride as a divinity is nothing more than a byproduct and offshoot of his true beliefs, a plan of healing that he forever seeks to bring into fruition. It is a foolish plan, a plan that has no place in this world and that can surely not save anyone, that cannot save a world.
However, due to his weakness, he struggles. By that struggling and by that persistence of his vision, by that heartfelt desire to save lives and to foster the conditions for bringing about greater life, he is an absurdity who discovered a new culture and 'world'. A world that a majority of sapient life has visited, sat within, and tasted of. Something that survives to this day, beyond simple fertility rituals.
And so, he continues on. Food as a preserver of life. Food as a maintainer of life. Food as a creator of life. Food as 'something beautiful'.
In pursuit of that life and beauty, he continues on, bearing that eternal smile.
"Have a seat. I recommend the tasting menu."
He does not consider himself a mighty god. His pride as a divinity is nothing more than a byproduct and offshoot of his true beliefs, a plan of healing that he forever seeks to bring into fruition. It is a foolish plan, a plan that has no place in this world and that can surely not save anyone, that cannot save a world.
However, due to his weakness, he struggles. By that struggling and by that persistence of his vision, by that heartfelt desire to save lives and to foster the conditions for bringing about greater life, he is an absurdity who discovered a new culture and 'world'. A world that a majority of sapient life has visited, sat within, and tasted of. Something that survives to this day, beyond simple fertility rituals.
And so, he continues on. Food as a preserver of life. Food as a maintainer of life. Food as a creator of life. Food as 'something beautiful'.
In pursuit of that life and beauty, he continues on, bearing that eternal smile.
"Have a seat. I recommend the tasting menu."
Pestocali first came into existence with life, a primordial god born of the concept of fertility. He existed, he maintained his concept, but that was all. He granted beasts and men the ability to copulate, he oversaw the expansion of population, he blessed the harvests and ensured that crops were bountiful. There was no will, there was merely action, the vague motions of a machine being.
There was no soul, no true will, but he was happy. There was nothing lacking in his life.
But, sometimes, there was something else. Sometimes there was a feeling that rose up. In those moments, he felt his existence grow weak, the world spinning around him for the briefest moments. Then, it all returned to normal.
Then, one day, man brought fire and food together, and something utterly new was born. A new practice, a new science, a new world. That fledgeling field of cooking was inducted into that empty god, the most suitable to receive that nature, and so everything changed.
In those early days, medicine and culinary knowledge was barely distinguished. Even in the current time, what is called medicine is mostly nutrition. And so, restoration came with the culinary arts.
Digestion is, indeed, a miracle. Through digestion hay could turn into horses, rats into cats, and food into humans. Life needed restoratives, restaurants. Meat that boiled for hours, compressing all their restorative potential into bullion. This bullion would then be consumed as a soup. Built around this product and on the concept that every patient had their own medicine, restaurants were built.
Menus served as a guides letting each patient know what restoratives were on offer, separate tables were prepared for each person so they would be undisturbed in their treatment, and most important the freedom of choosing one’s own dish for you knew best of what would cure you.
And so, he knew glee. He knew happiness. He knew purpose. For the first time, he had something to aspire towards, something to work after, something to seek. He knew happiness, and so too did he know sorrow and anger. A life snuffed out, a life without joy, a life without cuisine, these things were tragic. For those races who knew not of the culinary arts, he sought to enlighten them. For those races who rejected his guiding word, whether due to their own will or their mere biology, he resigned himself to opposition.
Among those, one race took precedence as an enemy. Beings who knew not sustenance, sunlight, or slumber, not merely those who had once drank of bullion and had lost those bodies, but those who had never once tasted. Beings who, themselves, fell from the standing of 'lifeforms' to 'ingredients' in his eyes. These were, of course, the Collective, being who knew no cuisine and who were the design of a god of rot.
When the wars between gods broke out, he was initially indifferent, but before long, that burgeoning disdain came to a peak, and so the rising god took up arms with Azahiel not due to any view of his own ideals, but simply to combat Lravitus and the Collective that followed him, the antithesis to his art.
The impact he generated within that war was ultimately the splash of a stone in a pond, however, as one would expect. While the foremost 'healer' among the gods, it was a side role that kept the false king from death, rather than a main role that took some glorious victory.
And so...
There was no soul, no true will, but he was happy. There was nothing lacking in his life.
But, sometimes, there was something else. Sometimes there was a feeling that rose up. In those moments, he felt his existence grow weak, the world spinning around him for the briefest moments. Then, it all returned to normal.
Then, one day, man brought fire and food together, and something utterly new was born. A new practice, a new science, a new world. That fledgeling field of cooking was inducted into that empty god, the most suitable to receive that nature, and so everything changed.
In those early days, medicine and culinary knowledge was barely distinguished. Even in the current time, what is called medicine is mostly nutrition. And so, restoration came with the culinary arts.
Digestion is, indeed, a miracle. Through digestion hay could turn into horses, rats into cats, and food into humans. Life needed restoratives, restaurants. Meat that boiled for hours, compressing all their restorative potential into bullion. This bullion would then be consumed as a soup. Built around this product and on the concept that every patient had their own medicine, restaurants were built.
Menus served as a guides letting each patient know what restoratives were on offer, separate tables were prepared for each person so they would be undisturbed in their treatment, and most important the freedom of choosing one’s own dish for you knew best of what would cure you.
And so, he knew glee. He knew happiness. He knew purpose. For the first time, he had something to aspire towards, something to work after, something to seek. He knew happiness, and so too did he know sorrow and anger. A life snuffed out, a life without joy, a life without cuisine, these things were tragic. For those races who knew not of the culinary arts, he sought to enlighten them. For those races who rejected his guiding word, whether due to their own will or their mere biology, he resigned himself to opposition.
Among those, one race took precedence as an enemy. Beings who knew not sustenance, sunlight, or slumber, not merely those who had once drank of bullion and had lost those bodies, but those who had never once tasted. Beings who, themselves, fell from the standing of 'lifeforms' to 'ingredients' in his eyes. These were, of course, the Collective, being who knew no cuisine and who were the design of a god of rot.
When the wars between gods broke out, he was initially indifferent, but before long, that burgeoning disdain came to a peak, and so the rising god took up arms with Azahiel not due to any view of his own ideals, but simply to combat Lravitus and the Collective that followed him, the antithesis to his art.
The impact he generated within that war was ultimately the splash of a stone in a pond, however, as one would expect. While the foremost 'healer' among the gods, it was a side role that kept the false king from death, rather than a main role that took some glorious victory.
And so...
Genuine adoration. His stance upon the life that walks the world should be apparent.
While rather universally worshipped, it is much more so as a secondary god who exists in the background. The practices of cooking, healing, procreation, and harvest are rather omnipresent independent of culture, but those thoughts rarely enter one's head specifically. As one would expect, he is most worshipped among those who seek children, those who call themselves gourmands, and those who are injured.
His greatest 'claim to fame' in a truly genuine scale would be his worship among those who pursue those fledgeling medical studies that have taken form in this world, and among those of more agrarian states who seek to have their harvests blessed.
His greatest 'claim to fame' in a truly genuine scale would be his worship among those who pursue those fledgeling medical studies that have taken form in this world, and among those of more agrarian states who seek to have their harvests blessed.
Humans/Giants: The most beloved among the races, and those who most uphold the doctrine of the culinary arts. He feels sorrow for the degenerated great race of the giants in particular, and has taken many of them under his wing, saving them from their descent into monsters.
Undead: While rather neutral on them, he does not carry any particular disdain; rather, his view of them is closer to pity, as they are beings who were once within his 'world' who are no longer.
Collective: The sole race he feels disdain for. Beings that know not of cooking.
Fae: Fond of the Fae Kind, and considers them a point of fascination. He is known to send his heroes into the Fae Wilds for what he calls an 'expert cooking course'.
Undead: While rather neutral on them, he does not carry any particular disdain; rather, his view of them is closer to pity, as they are beings who were once within his 'world' who are no longer.
Collective: The sole race he feels disdain for. Beings that know not of cooking.
Fae: Fond of the Fae Kind, and considers them a point of fascination. He is known to send his heroes into the Fae Wilds for what he calls an 'expert cooking course'.
The Restaurant.
Simply called by that name, it is a grand establishment which most exhibits Pestocali's nature. A bustling land filled with life, different 'spaces' bearing different themes and decors, a thousand restaurants all held under a single roof. It is a place of health and restoration- to most, it does not harm, but rather nourishes. Naturally, its lord as the god of restoration can be said to be all but undying with this space.
A neutral space among the divines where others may seek protection and sustenance, a hallowed hall of simple happiness. Deals with both the lord of the underworld and the lord of the dreamlands have been brokered, and so, the spirits of great chefs and the brilliant ingredients of the Fae Wilds both have their place in this land. Here, the food and drink of the gods is made manifest, what some would call ambrosia and nectar that surpasses all mortal cuisine. The waiters are, of course, fragments of his own existence, such that the experience is solely driven by the food.
On occasions, it is used as a place for celebration among the divines, and the occasional challenges made to his Avatar find themselves ultimately settled here.
Any can place their name on the waitlist to enter, and there is no discrimination or preferencing. However, due to this, the waitlist's length is absurdly high.
...it is said that one must never enter the kitchen during service, for that will reveal a Pestocali who has never been witnessed.
Simply called by that name, it is a grand establishment which most exhibits Pestocali's nature. A bustling land filled with life, different 'spaces' bearing different themes and decors, a thousand restaurants all held under a single roof. It is a place of health and restoration- to most, it does not harm, but rather nourishes. Naturally, its lord as the god of restoration can be said to be all but undying with this space.
A neutral space among the divines where others may seek protection and sustenance, a hallowed hall of simple happiness. Deals with both the lord of the underworld and the lord of the dreamlands have been brokered, and so, the spirits of great chefs and the brilliant ingredients of the Fae Wilds both have their place in this land. Here, the food and drink of the gods is made manifest, what some would call ambrosia and nectar that surpasses all mortal cuisine. The waiters are, of course, fragments of his own existence, such that the experience is solely driven by the food.
On occasions, it is used as a place for celebration among the divines, and the occasional challenges made to his Avatar find themselves ultimately settled here.
Any can place their name on the waitlist to enter, and there is no discrimination or preferencing. However, due to this, the waitlist's length is absurdly high.
...it is said that one must never enter the kitchen during service, for that will reveal a Pestocali who has never been witnessed.
Name of Nation: Boulanger Isles
Location: Islands dotting the sea between Eudaimon, Nova Yoro, and Atlalantae.
Capital: Mathurin
Major Cities: Roze, Chantoiseau
Society: One could most simply call this a 'cooking technocracy'. The society is overseen by an academic elite focused at colleges for the culinary arts and medical practice.
While small both in territory and population, the nation itself is the predominant center for medical knowledge, the unquestioned world leader in cuisine, and a producer of crops far beyond what should be achievable given its surface area, which leads to rather heavy foot traffic from nonresidents. It is something of a nexus point for all manner of things.
The military force is a more recent creation, synthesizing the domains of restoration and cooking in order to create 'elite chefs' who utilize anatomical knowledge, cooking techniques, and the like as a training method for combat. Indeed, the majority of licensed chefs in the world have trained at these isles at some point in their life, and thus are not to be underestimated.
Outside of the cooking elite, the land is predominantly populated by farmers, drawing on the evolutions in fertility (harvest) in order to create consistent bumper crops.
The most notable indigenous fauna of the island are sacred beasts of Pestocali, boars that bear a divine right of seeking out culinary ingredients- one might compare them to truffle hogs for a convenient parallel. They descend from Pestocali's personal divine beast, a great boar who roams the islands- while once seen as a walking calamity, people are wise enough to avoid it nowadays, and so it is left in peace, occasionally rearranging the topography as it searches for food.
Location: Islands dotting the sea between Eudaimon, Nova Yoro, and Atlalantae.
Capital: Mathurin
Major Cities: Roze, Chantoiseau
Society: One could most simply call this a 'cooking technocracy'. The society is overseen by an academic elite focused at colleges for the culinary arts and medical practice.
While small both in territory and population, the nation itself is the predominant center for medical knowledge, the unquestioned world leader in cuisine, and a producer of crops far beyond what should be achievable given its surface area, which leads to rather heavy foot traffic from nonresidents. It is something of a nexus point for all manner of things.
The military force is a more recent creation, synthesizing the domains of restoration and cooking in order to create 'elite chefs' who utilize anatomical knowledge, cooking techniques, and the like as a training method for combat. Indeed, the majority of licensed chefs in the world have trained at these isles at some point in their life, and thus are not to be underestimated.
Outside of the cooking elite, the land is predominantly populated by farmers, drawing on the evolutions in fertility (harvest) in order to create consistent bumper crops.
The most notable indigenous fauna of the island are sacred beasts of Pestocali, boars that bear a divine right of seeking out culinary ingredients- one might compare them to truffle hogs for a convenient parallel. They descend from Pestocali's personal divine beast, a great boar who roams the islands- while once seen as a walking calamity, people are wise enough to avoid it nowadays, and so it is left in peace, occasionally rearranging the topography as it searches for food.
A cynical Fae with an acerbic wit and a minor sadistic streak. To Sera, one's value as a person is delineated by the sort of impression they make upon others. However, at the same time, Sera consciously makes an effort to not give the first impression any sort of precedence; rather, she is in a constant state of evaluating and re-evaluating anyone and everyone around her. While this ordinarily takes the form of her denouncing the actions of others, this is simply because her standards are absurdly high, to the point where even Sera herself rarely meets them, which results in her scolding others for failing to scold her. She ceaselessly berates the lazy, berating anything within her sight that she sees as an affront to her god.
In truth, Sera's ideology is based off of a set of a priori standards that she applies to all aspects of life. In her eyes, something has "failed" when it does not meet those standards, and nothing is exempt from being required to meet those standards. She can be called an absolutist of the highest order, someone who considers these standards inviolable, but at the same time is rarely thought of as a tyrant due to the nature of her standards.
Do not lose sight of why you act, and become trapped in that set way of acting. Do not disrespect others without due cause. Forgetfulness is spawned from carelessness; if you are a forgetful person, then work hard to overcome that weakness. Do not settle for something; strive to be your ideal person. Do not give up when there are others depending on you.
Each of her standards is fostered from an innate love of people and an innate belief in mortal potential. At her core, she is one dedicated to her god's cause with a soft hand that is surprising to those who have only been on the receiving end of her rather infamous verbal tirades. Elena truly finds mortals to be wonderful things, and her standards are her way of driving people to be the best that they can be. Of course, the number of living beings who understand this ideal to the core are few, even among those she calls allies. Thus, she often takes a role best summed up as "encouragingly sadistic", given that she takes joy in correcting others in a joyfully crude manner. Of course, it would be a lie to say that she didn't also happen to scold or denigrate others just for the hell of it, at times.
In truth, Sera's ideology is based off of a set of a priori standards that she applies to all aspects of life. In her eyes, something has "failed" when it does not meet those standards, and nothing is exempt from being required to meet those standards. She can be called an absolutist of the highest order, someone who considers these standards inviolable, but at the same time is rarely thought of as a tyrant due to the nature of her standards.
Do not lose sight of why you act, and become trapped in that set way of acting. Do not disrespect others without due cause. Forgetfulness is spawned from carelessness; if you are a forgetful person, then work hard to overcome that weakness. Do not settle for something; strive to be your ideal person. Do not give up when there are others depending on you.
Each of her standards is fostered from an innate love of people and an innate belief in mortal potential. At her core, she is one dedicated to her god's cause with a soft hand that is surprising to those who have only been on the receiving end of her rather infamous verbal tirades. Elena truly finds mortals to be wonderful things, and her standards are her way of driving people to be the best that they can be. Of course, the number of living beings who understand this ideal to the core are few, even among those she calls allies. Thus, she often takes a role best summed up as "encouragingly sadistic", given that she takes joy in correcting others in a joyfully crude manner. Of course, it would be a lie to say that she didn't also happen to scold or denigrate others just for the hell of it, at times.
The war between gods had ended. Time went on. Pestocali was still joyful, but he was weak, that weakness having been demonstrated to him with startling clarity.
This was changed not by a god, but by a Fae, a child who knew not of the world, who had stumbled into the material plane from the Fae Wilds. Seeing herself as a peerless genius, she made a declaration- she challenged Pestocali in the art of cuisine.
He laughed. He laughed at the foolishness of this child, and so he accepted.
And not in the god wars, but here- this was where Pestocali first knew fear.
The Fae brought forth all sort of wondrous things, plucked from the Fae Wilds. Crops with impossible geometries, the meats of illogical beasts, absurdities that none but the lord of dreams himself could claim familiarity with. Even Pestocali was taken aback. Her knife skills had a polish and speed to them that even he struggled to surpass, her ability to compose a dish, her imagination, her sheer talent were all beyond what he had thought possible.
However, he did not falter.
For seven days and nights, the two battled. This was not a battle of spear and bow, but of knife and skillet.
A god is a being based around a concept, and so he continued forwards. With mundane meat, vegetable, and grain, he surpassed his own limits as a god.
At the end of those seven nights, that child was defeated, and so the two formed a contract. One who would walk beside him, both as a subordinate and as a friend. The bargain of an Avatar was struck, and with this new fire, he advanced. The design of combat techniques, the expansion of medical knowledge and healing blessings, the basics for guaranteeing fertility in both man and crop. For, fundamentally, all of Pestocali's concepts were themselves things that mortals could learn of, drink from, and acquire in their own right- the girl who had nearly been his match had shown him that much.
From the god, that Fae gained new power, divine rights that elevated her existence. From the Fae, the god witnessed those very divine rights be wielded in ways that he had never imagined. The Fae grew into a living legend. The god developed his nature. The founding of the Boulanger Isles' combatant corps, the design of the great training facility known as the 'Food Pyramid', the evolution of medical and agrarian science, all of these things were not due to either one of them, but due to the pair, eternally moving forwards.
And so, they move forwards, they grow.
The chef's knife grows sharper by the day.
This was changed not by a god, but by a Fae, a child who knew not of the world, who had stumbled into the material plane from the Fae Wilds. Seeing herself as a peerless genius, she made a declaration- she challenged Pestocali in the art of cuisine.
He laughed. He laughed at the foolishness of this child, and so he accepted.
And not in the god wars, but here- this was where Pestocali first knew fear.
The Fae brought forth all sort of wondrous things, plucked from the Fae Wilds. Crops with impossible geometries, the meats of illogical beasts, absurdities that none but the lord of dreams himself could claim familiarity with. Even Pestocali was taken aback. Her knife skills had a polish and speed to them that even he struggled to surpass, her ability to compose a dish, her imagination, her sheer talent were all beyond what he had thought possible.
However, he did not falter.
For seven days and nights, the two battled. This was not a battle of spear and bow, but of knife and skillet.
A god is a being based around a concept, and so he continued forwards. With mundane meat, vegetable, and grain, he surpassed his own limits as a god.
At the end of those seven nights, that child was defeated, and so the two formed a contract. One who would walk beside him, both as a subordinate and as a friend. The bargain of an Avatar was struck, and with this new fire, he advanced. The design of combat techniques, the expansion of medical knowledge and healing blessings, the basics for guaranteeing fertility in both man and crop. For, fundamentally, all of Pestocali's concepts were themselves things that mortals could learn of, drink from, and acquire in their own right- the girl who had nearly been his match had shown him that much.
From the god, that Fae gained new power, divine rights that elevated her existence. From the Fae, the god witnessed those very divine rights be wielded in ways that he had never imagined. The Fae grew into a living legend. The god developed his nature. The founding of the Boulanger Isles' combatant corps, the design of the great training facility known as the 'Food Pyramid', the evolution of medical and agrarian science, all of these things were not due to either one of them, but due to the pair, eternally moving forwards.
And so, they move forwards, they grow.
The chef's knife grows sharper by the day.
While Pestocali himself is a god of utility, of indirectness and support, his Avatar is a freak of nature who has developed the shard of his authority to a degree that the Bullion Lord himself could never have thought possible.
Sera is most known for her cooking talent, the world's premier chef who only bears inferiority compared to her god. However, she is one whose nature beautifully synergizes with Pestocali's own, and so, her learned nature in such fields as medicine and agrarianism can be considered at the pinnacle- if asked, Pestocali admits that, were divine and magical ability removed from the equation, she would be a more effective bringer of healing, fertility, and harvest than he.
However, the area where she has overturned the nature of her god is, undoubtedly, combat. Her biology as a Fae bestows her with a hardiness of life and a bodily might beyond most races, a 'non-Euclidean geometry' to the form of her life. Beyond that, she is the developer of the techniques of a 'Cooking Knight', a combat style which views the enemy as 'an ingredient to be be broken down', using a synthesis of cooking technique and anatomical knowledge to best the enemy. It is a combat aptitude that plays utterly to her own strengths, and after having been honed through the ages, she is a warrior who surpasses what Pestocali believed possible for his followers. It is thanks to her that he was inspired to form a similar corps among those who followed him.
These are merely the results of Sera's own existence, though. As an Avatar, gifted with a fragment of her god, she has gained a form of divine right through him, wielding his own concepts. From fertility, such abilities as the aptitude to bless a person or place- couples will conceive children, a field will be bountiful with crops, and the like. This aptitude has gradually taken root across the Boulanger Isles, in tandem with their own technological advancement. From cooking, an amplification of her own raw talent, and the inherent ability to understand a substance before her and its basic properties. From restoration, the divine right to restore a substance or state of affairs, 'rewinding' it to a prior state or state of affairs, for instance repairing a broken object or healing injuries.
It would not be an exaggeration to call her the Avatar who has most strayed from their god, though this is meant in a wholly positive regard.
Sera is most known for her cooking talent, the world's premier chef who only bears inferiority compared to her god. However, she is one whose nature beautifully synergizes with Pestocali's own, and so, her learned nature in such fields as medicine and agrarianism can be considered at the pinnacle- if asked, Pestocali admits that, were divine and magical ability removed from the equation, she would be a more effective bringer of healing, fertility, and harvest than he.
However, the area where she has overturned the nature of her god is, undoubtedly, combat. Her biology as a Fae bestows her with a hardiness of life and a bodily might beyond most races, a 'non-Euclidean geometry' to the form of her life. Beyond that, she is the developer of the techniques of a 'Cooking Knight', a combat style which views the enemy as 'an ingredient to be be broken down', using a synthesis of cooking technique and anatomical knowledge to best the enemy. It is a combat aptitude that plays utterly to her own strengths, and after having been honed through the ages, she is a warrior who surpasses what Pestocali believed possible for his followers. It is thanks to her that he was inspired to form a similar corps among those who followed him.
These are merely the results of Sera's own existence, though. As an Avatar, gifted with a fragment of her god, she has gained a form of divine right through him, wielding his own concepts. From fertility, such abilities as the aptitude to bless a person or place- couples will conceive children, a field will be bountiful with crops, and the like. This aptitude has gradually taken root across the Boulanger Isles, in tandem with their own technological advancement. From cooking, an amplification of her own raw talent, and the inherent ability to understand a substance before her and its basic properties. From restoration, the divine right to restore a substance or state of affairs, 'rewinding' it to a prior state or state of affairs, for instance repairing a broken object or healing injuries.
It would not be an exaggeration to call her the Avatar who has most strayed from their god, though this is meant in a wholly positive regard.
Rank: Executive Chef
Personality: An ostentatious, brash man who considers himself on the cutting edge of cooking. In terms of conversation, he is loudmouthed, and overbearing, utilizing an unjustly commanding tone as if it were natural and seeing others as sidekicks and minor characters on his stage. He is an innovator through and through- a true exemplification of the eccentricity inherent to any sufficiently-advanced genius, and while many of his creations have resulted in catastrophic damage, equally as many have created wondrous things that have left even Pestocali impressed.
Among the residents of the Boulanger Isles, he is renowned as something of a walking hazard. Should he enter a city recreationally, it is not uncommon for every door in town to bolt shut out of fear. However, when incidents reach a certain scale, he is the first one called on to aid the populace, sometimes even before Sera herself.
Capabilities: A madman and inventor. In cuisine, medicinal technology, agrarian sciences, and so on, he has developed many of the isles' advancements. As a combatant, he is a freak of nature who utilizes all manner of magical and mundane items to bring an ever-changing assault down on the enemy, a means of assault that is every bit as suicidal as it is effective. His mindset is simply that 'as I am not strong, I must simply create what is strong'.
While not the most 'powerful' of Pestocali's followers, he is 'the one who is most troublesome to fight', even beyond Sera herself. The level of preparation taken when devoting himself to a task, the absurdity of his resources and creations, and the like are enough to where an objectively superior opponent might find themselves unwittingly pulled into an elaborate double-suicide. Rather than combatting him, it is common sense to simply avoid him.
Personality: An ostentatious, brash man who considers himself on the cutting edge of cooking. In terms of conversation, he is loudmouthed, and overbearing, utilizing an unjustly commanding tone as if it were natural and seeing others as sidekicks and minor characters on his stage. He is an innovator through and through- a true exemplification of the eccentricity inherent to any sufficiently-advanced genius, and while many of his creations have resulted in catastrophic damage, equally as many have created wondrous things that have left even Pestocali impressed.
Among the residents of the Boulanger Isles, he is renowned as something of a walking hazard. Should he enter a city recreationally, it is not uncommon for every door in town to bolt shut out of fear. However, when incidents reach a certain scale, he is the first one called on to aid the populace, sometimes even before Sera herself.
Capabilities: A madman and inventor. In cuisine, medicinal technology, agrarian sciences, and so on, he has developed many of the isles' advancements. As a combatant, he is a freak of nature who utilizes all manner of magical and mundane items to bring an ever-changing assault down on the enemy, a means of assault that is every bit as suicidal as it is effective. His mindset is simply that 'as I am not strong, I must simply create what is strong'.
While not the most 'powerful' of Pestocali's followers, he is 'the one who is most troublesome to fight', even beyond Sera herself. The level of preparation taken when devoting himself to a task, the absurdity of his resources and creations, and the like are enough to where an objectively superior opponent might find themselves unwittingly pulled into an elaborate double-suicide. Rather than combatting him, it is common sense to simply avoid him.
Rank: Executive Chef
Personality: A simpleminded, dedicated existence. Social intelligence: nil. Emotional intelligence: nil. Academic intelligence: nil. Practical intelligence: nil. He is an abnormality, a 'hole in the world' with a hyperactive personality narrowed down to a single point. At his core, he is 'innocent', a pure being whose inner world does not contain cruelty, even if his actions can often result in suffering. A true freak of nature with an alien mindset- he follows Pestocali not due to worship, but due to obsession.
Capabilities: After Sera, he is known as the most capable combatant to emerge from the Boulanger Isles. A true obsessive freak with a single focus, whose talent with the spatula has transcended the mundane realm with nothing more than sheer skill. By 'practicing a single kick one thousand times', he has outstripped those who have 'practiced a thousand kicks once'. A hermit with a distorted mind. Pestocali has admitted that, out of the mortals he has witnessed, Giam is the one who is 'the closest to a god', though this is a statement of his nature and not of his power.
Personality: A simpleminded, dedicated existence. Social intelligence: nil. Emotional intelligence: nil. Academic intelligence: nil. Practical intelligence: nil. He is an abnormality, a 'hole in the world' with a hyperactive personality narrowed down to a single point. At his core, he is 'innocent', a pure being whose inner world does not contain cruelty, even if his actions can often result in suffering. A true freak of nature with an alien mindset- he follows Pestocali not due to worship, but due to obsession.
Capabilities: After Sera, he is known as the most capable combatant to emerge from the Boulanger Isles. A true obsessive freak with a single focus, whose talent with the spatula has transcended the mundane realm with nothing more than sheer skill. By 'practicing a single kick one thousand times', he has outstripped those who have 'practiced a thousand kicks once'. A hermit with a distorted mind. Pestocali has admitted that, out of the mortals he has witnessed, Giam is the one who is 'the closest to a god', though this is a statement of his nature and not of his power.
Rank: Sous Chef
Personality: On first glance, a crude man, a stereotype of the degenerated giant race. One might compare him to a synthesis of Ignis and Giam at first glance, a brash oaf without a shred of social competence. This could be nothing further from the truth- that crude nature belies a kind heart, and just as much as Sera, he is viewed as a local hero and a champion of the people. He cares for his race and those others under his god's domain, and views Pestocali as a sort of father figure and patron saint who has saved his race.
Capabilities: The giants were once a terrifyingly powerful race, but with the death of their lord, degenerated into mere monsters. Pestocali, feeling grief for this, turned his blessings towards them, restoring them to what of their former glory he could recover. Khren is one such example, a degenerated giant who has been restored. Simply due to his nature as a giant, he is an absolute terror on the battlefield through his strength, hardiness, innate regenerative capacity, and so on. When coupled with the restorative blessings he wields, he is a mighty attrition fighter.
However, he is not a combatant at his core, and has actually not completed the final floor of the Food Pyramid such that he can be crowned Executive Chef at this time. Rather, his actual talents lie in the space of healing- he is a renowned healer and an expert on medicine only matched by Sera herself. His talent in medicine certainly surpasses his talent in cuisine and combat, though he is taking aims to remedy this.
Personality: On first glance, a crude man, a stereotype of the degenerated giant race. One might compare him to a synthesis of Ignis and Giam at first glance, a brash oaf without a shred of social competence. This could be nothing further from the truth- that crude nature belies a kind heart, and just as much as Sera, he is viewed as a local hero and a champion of the people. He cares for his race and those others under his god's domain, and views Pestocali as a sort of father figure and patron saint who has saved his race.
Capabilities: The giants were once a terrifyingly powerful race, but with the death of their lord, degenerated into mere monsters. Pestocali, feeling grief for this, turned his blessings towards them, restoring them to what of their former glory he could recover. Khren is one such example, a degenerated giant who has been restored. Simply due to his nature as a giant, he is an absolute terror on the battlefield through his strength, hardiness, innate regenerative capacity, and so on. When coupled with the restorative blessings he wields, he is a mighty attrition fighter.
However, he is not a combatant at his core, and has actually not completed the final floor of the Food Pyramid such that he can be crowned Executive Chef at this time. Rather, his actual talents lie in the space of healing- he is a renowned healer and an expert on medicine only matched by Sera herself. His talent in medicine certainly surpasses his talent in cuisine and combat, though he is taking aims to remedy this.
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Naga The Serpent
Well-known member
My graves will stay where they are tyvm
ConvexAtaraxia
Member
Ah, alrighty! Sorry, must have missed that when I was running through everyone's sheets. I'll clean that up shortly, but the sentiment will still mostly be there (food-obsessed god is very food-obsessed).
Reimu Hakurei
Fantasy Heaven
There are mortuary cults.
Drunk? What is this drunk you speak of?
Reimu Hakurei
Fantasy Heaven
Iron Chef Ashariel.
Grav
A confused leftist
As you die, you have a chance to join the Collective. Whenever someone dies, a lone myconid comes to their door. You hear a knock and a stubby mush man is at the door. The mushroom points at the corpse and the host nods, silently relieved. The mush man bent down and touched the corpse with his finger. Mushrooms began covering the body as the body rapidly decayed, from a matter of months into seconds. It stops as only the fungi remains. The soul has already left to join Amenti but Lravitus makes use of the material remains. The fungi then shift and grow, forming a body. And it is done a new myconid is born. The two wander away, not to be seen until another death.
-Excerpt from the "Collective Thoughts of the People of Ashariel on the Collective".
ConvexAtaraxia
Member
This is actually how the Avatar is decided.
Every so often, someone challenges Sera to a cooking competition, and the two basically have an Iron Chef-style showdown in The Restaurant. Pestocali picks the secret ingredient and everything.
So far she hasn't lost.
Naga The Serpent
Well-known member
Um, there are specific burial cultures to my people's culture. I think if a mush man arrived at their doors they would be met with fire.
ConvexAtaraxia
Member
Please do not burn the mushrooms. Either store or dry them appropriately.
"The dead shall stay there, we respect their journey to the other life. The body is a temple, and even in death, the body must be treated with utmost respect."
In short- No our recently bereaved will not give you the corpses of the dead for you to make new fungi. In fact I don't think anybody would really be "relieved" by a strange myconid walking up to their door.
Grav
A confused leftist
The myconid making wasn't going to happen. The myconid is there as a gravekeeper. To speeden the cycle of life I suppose.
Edit: Very useful in battlefields or after war.
Edit 2: That excerpt was from a civilian's perspective. The person was grieving and wasn't seeing things right.
Edit 3: This only happens in the left continent of Ashariel.
yowch that last one really does make you come off as a villain, taking advantage of the grieving family to multiply numbers for your cause