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TDM 005
![]() ⏵ arrival ⏴ Arrival goes as anticipated. Characters awaken in a sterile hospital bed in a clean, white room to the hum of machines under the unnatural lighting common to well-kept institutions. Every bit was designed to be comforting and calming, even with the jarring undercurrent of this situation. The first face they see is Aurora's: her smile appears to be warm, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She might offer a quick explanation, or leave characters to figure it out for themselves depending on their approach. The door to the room swings open, revealing a hallway that stretches out ahead of them. There’s noise from outside and strong pumpkin spice scents coming from the lobby. Ah, muffins and tea. Grab one and head into the crisp, sunny fall morning ahead. ![]() ⏵ potluck ⏴ Cutthroat Iron Etrayan Bake-Off As you step out of the arrival holding area into the main thoroughfare, the entire street has been turned into tents and chef stations to accommodate the activities of thirty people at once. There’s seats, trailers, and robots bustling about to make sure everyone is ready. A couple of cheerful robots in aprons and colorful sweaters approach and redirect you as you step towards the cooking area. There’s gas ranges, ovens, grills, blast chillers, mixers, and set walk-ins and pantries with just about every ingredient you can imagine. There are cameramen (also robots) patrolling the area to capture all your best moments and to broadcast them directly to your fellow citizens’ devices. Your instruction? “Make your signature dish. You have one hour, chef.” It can’t just be straightforward, can it? The land itself is held together with pure chaotic energy. If you’re lucky, all goes as planned. If you aren’t… well…
* All kittens disappear at the end. ** These however, stay. ![]() ⏵ share a meal ⏴ As all the cooking concludes, you will be invited to plate your meal into one of many casserole dishes, regardless of what was made. A ladle will be tucked into the corner and placed on the table with a folded bit of cardstock declaring the chef’s name and the name of the dish. A helper camerabot will come around to each participant and ask for their thinking and their process. Even if you got away without having to cook, even looking towards the table of dishes will spur a helper bot to start making you a plate with one of everything. The helperbot will insist that it is rude to not at least try what their peers have made. In fact, if you are to fill out the score card for each person, you really must taste everything! The robots can’t try the food, so it’s up to you. The cards look like so. The grading system is opaque. Is it meant to be numbers? Stars? Letter grades? Well, you’re the judge. You figure it out. Chef: ___________ Dish:_____________ Judge:___________ Overall Rating:_______
![]() ⏵ tummy ache survivor ⏴ No matter how well your compatriots cooked or baked their dishes, there are… factors. You see that carrot? It’s really just condensed chaos in the shape of a carrot. No matter how powerful you are, these particular ingredients may not mesh with your being. …And even if it is truly a carrot, do all the chefs know the proper cooking temperature of chicken? Even chickens are aliens to many. (Optional) Roll a Die
Please direct all questions to our mod queries comment! |
Chu Wenshan | Have You Seen My Brother
[Chu Wenshan is new, lost, confused, and probably didn't understand most of what that weird ghost lady said when he first woke up here. And now he's...well, he doesn't really know how to cook, but he picked up a carrot and it grew, so now he's reaching for a steak in hopes of making that grow, and....it's turned to soup in his hands.]
........Can you roast a soup? [Maybe he should find a bowl...]
2. share a meal
[Now why on earth would Chu Wenshan ever turn down a free meal? He quietly watches as a helper bot fills up a plate with one of everything, politely thanks it once it comes back, and proceeds to Very Seriously attempt to rate everything...except he's marking some of these with X or O, some with Chinese numerals, and "rizz" gets a little scribbled drawing of a flower?]
All of these foods have flavor...what a strange thing to rate. [Did he think that one was a yes/no question...]
3. tummy ache survivor
[Do you hear clucking? Like, a lot of clucking? There might in fact be a pile of digital chickens over there at one of the tables. Occasionally, as the chickens flutter around, you might catch a glimpse of a person underneath them...he's not moving, but he's sitting upright, so he's probably still alive??]
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Finally though he had to step in. This was just way too embarrassing.]
I'd really like to know how you plan to put a soup on a fire without putting it out.
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No, Chu Wenshan stands there with wet hands, having given up on saving the soup the moment Ouyang Duyu showed up, and instead puts on a very serious thinking expression which lasts for maybe three seconds tops.]
If it's meat-flavored soup, I could soak this carrot in it and roast that.
[Except the soup is still dripping off the counter (and his hands) as we speak.]
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You'd have to catch the soup first.
[But also.]
And that's not how cooking works.
1/2
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How does cooking work?
[Teach him, Laoshi!
Both his (soupy) hands are still occupied with that pot, also.]
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Ouyang Duyu didn't look too deeply into how he felt about all of it. If anyone asked he'd just say he was just making fun of Chu Wenshan and nothing else.
He tapped his chin, as if thinking. Finally, he shrugged.]
There's no helping it, I guess. Since you're so hopeless.
[He did not clip his fan back onto his belt because he very much planned to do nothing with his hands.] First, you should wash your hands.
[Hygiene is very important!]
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He also nods like he totally agrees with being called helpless, and goes to wash his hands as instructed.
...How do modern future sinks work...he accidentally turns the hot water to max heat. The sink is now steaming. But at least his reddened hands are probably clean!? Look, he even holds them out for inspection!]
They're washed.
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...I can see that.
[And then, because he's curious (not worried. Not at all!)]
Doesn't that hurt? [Pause.] Of course, I'm only asking as your doctor.
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Is that...?
[She has really good eyesight for a reason, pegasus eyes for a horsegirl of a knight (quite literally, horse ears and a swishing long blond tail), and she sees a figure under the chickens-]
Um, hello? [She tries to shoo away the chickens.] Shoo! [They cluck at her.]
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They don't seem to want to move.
[He sounds surprisingly calm, despite the situation?]
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Like the person who asks a very peculiar question. ]
What do you think that criteria meant? [ Time to check it out! ]
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It's asking whether the food has flavor or not. Probably.
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Yeah, sure.
[ He chimes quickly before holding out his own plate. ]
Do you think this has flavor? Personally, I think it does, but maybe I'm wrong...
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There's like five seconds of silence before he speaks up again.]
No flavor.
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His chin drops as he stares at the floor before glancing over his shoulder as the silence goes on. Vincent went through a lot of thoughts in that short amount of time. How far was someone to help? If he should help? Or if he should leave? And where is the nearest exit?
But the young man speaks and says something incomprehensible in return.
A second passes before he places an 'X' on his own sheet. ]
Great.
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[He holds the plate back out to the guy again. Also he seems perfectly fine? Maybe you just imagined that tremor.]
Do you know what "rizz" means?
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[ A beat. ]
Pr-rizz-entation?
[ He tries to hold his hands out in a 'tah-dah' pose as best he can whilst still holding his scorecards and pen. ]
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1. Potluck
she's really having a hard time with it and internally debating the whole 'which came first, the chicken or the egg' thing.
right now, she's leaning towards eggs. eggs which could become chicks who've decided to scream at her.
but the guy next to her...damn. that looks messy]
Pretty sure you can't. But, well, you can put it in a pot with some sliced up carrots and potatoes and make beef stew? That's always good and I can help you out, I'm tired of being yelled at by eggs. Can you believe any of this shit?
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I can slice things. [was that the question though] Nothing else has made sense so far...I don't remember kitchens being like this either.
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unless she hard-boils them first and turns them into deviled eggs. can eggs still scream if they've been hard-boiled?
she's hoping the answer is 'no']
Okay, then you're in luck! I wonder if you need some beef broth to really make it a stew and not just a bunch of different stuff all cooked together? And neither do I. Most of the apartments I stayed in had kitchens where you could stretch one arm and touch one wall, then do the same for the other arm. What about you, what kinds of kitchen do you have?
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[Surely that'd work!!]
As for kitchens... usually you'd need to start the fire yourself, and get water from a well. Whoever invented all these machines must be very smart. [In other words: please help]
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[which in translation means, go for it! she's never seen anything like it and is fascinated and horrified in equal measures.
and if she wasn't already feeling culture shocked, his response would do that trick rather nicely!]
Yeah, they're really useful. Especially gas ovens, at least according to my fiancé and my best friend back home. They're both professional chefs. I'll be honest, usually I let them do the cooking and I make appreciative noises as I eat, so this is an adventure? But we'll figure it out. [she says with a confidence she doesn't entirely feel] Anyway, I'm Ari. What's your name?
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[He'd love to meet a professional chef. Especially if the food was free....okay but we gotta focus on other things right now. Focus!]
Chu Wenshan. Nice to meet you.
[As he looks around for something to pick up the steak with before he potentially dissolves it over a pot?]
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[so much food! all the food she wanted to eat which of course meant hours on a treadmill, but certain sacrifices had to be made if she wanted to eat tons of sweet noodle kugel with Indian spices.
Nice to meet you, too. Despite the circumstances. I can safely say these are the weirdest circumstances I've ever been in. How 'bout you, any war stories you wanna share?
[it's meant figuratively, not literally, but she may have stuck her foot in her mouth. she should be used to that by now]
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