[Browbird] Marlin

Marilíaon, or just Marlin as he’s known to the few staff members who aren’t afraid of his deathly glare, didn’t so much plan to be a chef as he did stumble gracelessly into the position with all of the nuance and elegance of a wet cat frantically trying to wrench itself out of a tub of water and keeps slipping back down the slides.  Marlin never wanted to be a chef in his life,  he once dreamed of big things that didn’t involve nearly frying his brows off over an oven every day.  But hey, the bills got to get paid somehow, right?

So, he became his company‘s long-suffering chef out of pure relentless spite and not-giving-a-fuckness that’s followed him everywhere in life!  Unfortunately for him too he’s stupidly good at his job, good enough to get relocated to one of the company’s prized starline vessels that serves as one of the company’s mobile headquarters, sailing endlessly through the sea of stars that we call our universe from one location to the next.  There’s always a rotating guest list of VIPs to serve, new staff to train, and new ways to try and get rid of the headache always brewing right behind his eyes.  The only good thing about his job is he’s allowed to yell and complain at whoever he wants, which he does quite frequently - when he has the energy, of course!

Marlin’s accepted this life of going back to his quarters every night smelling of a variety of spices and the catch of the day, and he only has a few teeny tiny qualms about feeling like he’s never reaching his full potential and he’s wasting his life away serving others.  But hey, we all have to grow up sometime, right?  And at least here he gets a paycheck and meals and housing, so many people would kill for his position!  So he should be thankful and shut up about his feelings, right?

With his brain trying so hard to distract himself from his constantly swirling storms of inner thoughts and screams, Marlin runs his kitchen like the backend of a college soccer club, which is to say anything goes as long as they get the job done.  He’s moody, prone to glaring and huffing, and staring off into oblivion for inappropriate periods of time - but he also makes the best damn meals anyone this side of the solar system has ever tasted, so they have no choice but to keep him around.  Even when he’s rubbish at telling his staff what to do, but they all stick to his side regardless out of loyalty and respect and love, although they’d never push him about that last part