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Yo another day, another thread.
The title explains it all, share a meal with the character above you. This can be a romantic dinner, or two friends hanging out in a fast-food diner, enemies glaring at each other from behind their pizza's etc. Go wild. Be creative!
It doesn't have to be a dinner, or self-made you can share all kind of foods here! (Candybowls, lunches, breakfast, second breakfast etc) as long as it's edible.
Rules are simple:
Respect the other person's OC's diet wishes.
- You don't have to describe every movement, sip, snip or bite, but put some afford in it. 3 sentences minimum.
- Please no NSFW or violent stuff. If you really want to go dark please black it out. Like this!
- You can post again after 2 replies, or if 12 hours have passed.
- Please fill in your claim in 22hours. I'll try to send you a reminder after ±10 h. We want to keep the game flowing! If you fail to do so your post gets skipped.
Food related topics:
“You came!” Fulvous squealed as they opened their door to find Brown. “Come in, come in! Pistachio’s sleeping on the couch, if you want her. Would you like something to eat?” It was only when they said that when they realized that that was probably a bad idea, because they didn’t exactly have the best foods. They mostly had ramen, ginger ale, pistachios, eggs, maybe some frozen meals… In other words, their diet is absolute trash. Well, they had to roll with it now, because for one reason or another, Brown actually agreed to that. Damn.
So, they excused themself to the kitchen to attempt to actually make something somewhat good… If by good, we’re talking about beef ramen with scrambled eggs in it to make a somewhat shittier version of egg drop soup. They tried, at least? They made two bowls, one for them and one for Brown, and also poured some ginger ale for the both of them, before returning to where Brown was and handed her the ginger ale and ramen. “Before you ask, yes, that’s beef-flavored instant ramen with eggs. Probably the meatiest shit I have. I mean, I might have some chicken nuggets in the freezer somewhere, but too late for that! If you don’t want it, just say so.” They sat down next to Brown and grabbed a big chunk of egg from their bowl. They blew on it for a few moments, then swallowed it, wincing at the feeling of the heat that was still there going down their throat. After that, they squeaked out, “So… The hell are you here for this time? Just for the cat, or anything else that more involves me than her?”
"Relax, relax, I'm not here to interrogate or give any tickets or anything," Cameron laughed from across the table. He opened his mouth to say more, only to stop when the waitress came. Smiling, he handed her the menus and ordered some burgers and fries for the both of them, then turned his smile to Fulvous when she left.
Folding his arms on top of the table, he mused, "Heard you met my dad! Has blue hair? Big smile? Talks really loud and weird?" He laughed. "Yeah, that's him all right! Mad scientist, and all that. You know, we both have the same serum in our blood. Hard to believe, huh? Since I'm not screaming and everything? He managed to fix it up when he had to use it on me, I think. But ah, I'm rambling. I'm just surprised someone actually met him! And lived to tell the tale! He doesn't usually like talking to people, you know, but you probably know that pretty well by now."
The food came and Cameron took a moment to eat. A good burger as usual. He loved this place. Between bites he said, "So my dad told me you're providing him some bodies?" He paused and laughed again, "Don't worry, it's not a trick! Look, if you know my dad then I'm not going to arrest you over anything. The other cops, though, I can't vouch for. Thanks for your help, though. My dad was really happy. Loves his experiments and all that. Sometimes I have to remind him to eat-- Oh, maybe I should get something to-go for him, while I'm at it."
Alas, Noel wasn't much of a burger-and-fries type of guy. Or a table type of guy. Anyways! They both sat on the floor like animals, and in between them sat a still-hot skillet on said floor, but at least the food itself wasn't touching the ground. It was just chunks of venison, vegetables tossed in recklessly. It didn't look appetizing, but it was healthy.
Not that Noel himself could complain about what he spent two hours slaving over at the hearth. These days, he only cooked to survive, and less so to impress. Obviously. There were no spices.
This sucked ass.
"I'm glad you were able to come." Noel said, although he seemed more resigned than usual -- which, you know, he was always resigned. As though anxious of betraying any particular emotion, his expression and tone of voice were both dead flat.
The only semblance of emotion came from outside, where a very loud "DAMN IT!" sounded from the front of the cottage.
I hate that stupid kid.
He scooped a piece of venison and one singular carrot into his mouth, quick to chew and then gulp it down when he heard another frustrated groan. He tried to ignore it. "Obviously, these cliffs don't have much in the way of law enforcement." he continued, "There is me, of course -- I'm the only real head of security they have out here." And what a wonderful job he was doing. No one got their eyes gouged out by a weird bird in the past week.
"Still, I'm no fucking officer. I'm too busy with this one. It's only a native of a land I'm pointing you towards -- I know it's not an animal because animals don't have the thumbs necessary to get out of the hunting traps I've set around the woods." he said, "And, now, I don't have the money to really spare for you, but there's shit all around here you can just take. I don't give a fuck. I just want that native gone somehow so my shit'll stop getting fucking sprung, and then maybe I can catch a damn rabbit or something. I'm tired of eating and saving all this venison--"
"PISS!"
"She's --" Noel stabbed his fork into another piece of venison. "-- She's trying to catch a fucking frog for some reason, don't mind her."
@ np: noel will eat anything. literally anything. he eats casu marzu in canon, he has no restraint. he likes to cook his own food, though, and tends to be suspicious of restaurant food. :'V
Claim! Gotta write for the same person again :3
Dolores, eager to get Moo Moo milk for her Pokémon, went to the Cafe Cabin to purchase some. To Dolores it felt a bit odd buying something like a super or hyper potion when Moo Moo milk and Lemonade were better substitutes. She thought, How do trainers have so much money on them? What is even the point of buying items here when in Galar gold and revives spawn out of the ground? How has our society not collapsed? What is wealth here?
Dolores was saved from an endless cycle of questioning and existential dread when the shopkeeper exclaimed, “No I don’t currently have 42,069 bottles of Moo Moo milk on me. I don’t know why you’d want so many anyway.” Not at all phazed or interested in the situation the shopkeeper continued stating, “I’m going on break. I don’t wanna, no, can’t talk… Fuck! Ok so I can’t pay attention I gotta huff some of that Ghastly has to knock me out dead tired. See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!”
Somehow in an existential fit Dolores ordered 42,069 bottles of Moo Moo milk, and she was gonna have to get rid of it somehow. Devastated, she sank to her knees about to faint. The shopkeeper came back out and said, “Holy cow I’m so sorry! I didn’t know that my pranks actually could be believed by people, my boss always just told me they were terrible!” The shopkeeper paused and then added, “I’ll give you some milks on the house, so sorry!”
Dolores, who was just annoyed but just glad to not have her life savings ripped away said, “ Thank you, and your name was?”
“Casey.” The shopkeeper replied nervously. “P-p-pleasure doing business with you.”
There was one bottle extra, so they each had half a glass and went their separate ways. Dolores, baffled by the complexity of the incident, and Casey wishing not to get fired both agreed to never speak of the incident again.
@ NP Casey is a trickster but has a good heart and doesn’t want anybody to be setback by her tricks. She can be whatever species for your short story, and she’ll generally eat anything. Her main form is a train/millipede hybrid so she likes to eat coal and stuff off the ground.
"Alright, uh..." Destiny said, holding out the piece of small bacon in front of what seemed to be a... centipede..? A millipede. What do millipedes eat anyway? She smiled at the smaller creature in front of her, whom she had gotten pranked by a couple of hours ago. Destiny had gotten a bit mad and pouted about it, so they separated for a bit.
Until both of them were hungry.
So now they were here, just deciding to share some food together. "So do you like bacon?" She seemingly questioned, oblivious to their train part. When the other party declined, she looked shocked. "C-Coal...?" She questioned, looking around the house. She did have some coal nearby! Rushing over, she got a piece of coal bigger than her hand and wrapped the piece of bacon on it and rolled it on the ground. "There! Enjoy!" She then proceeded to eat a regular piece of bacon with her now blackened hand.
--
Np, Destiny will eat mostly meat, such as bacon, but only a small amount since she is pretty tiny and gets full easily!
His kram sank deep in the pink pigeon meat as he gave Destiny a calm smile.
"Yer and Salvador. You two get along quite good roi?" he asked. As he shoved the pigeon-meat into his soup-pan. "Oh me and good ol' Salie are friends too," he said. Roswell used the same kram that he used to cut cords and dirty purses and previously the bird to cut the herbs for his soup. Chicken-soup. Without any chicken in it. As chicken meat, real chicken meat was quite expensive. So a self-caught pigeon would do. Pigeon with sage. A gran' old combination.
With the herbs cut and ready to cook Roswell turned around. Then knelt. To get on eye-level with Destiny. "Oi'm to Salvador whaat yer father is to yer," he said. Giving Destiny a sweet smile.
"Loike a dad!" He clarified. As if the 4-year-old couldn't figure that out herself.
"Speakin' of dads… Mebbe yer should introduce me to him one day Destiny," Roswell said. He pursed his lips. "He sounds loike a...interesting person." De most evil man on earth hu. He could surely use a poor thief like him. And he surely had money.
"If he takes care of such a wonderful daughter, oi'm sure he's wonderful himself!" Roswell said. He got back up. His attention shifted back to the soup. They waited for a bit while Roswell occasionally tested the stiff meat with his kram handle. When satisfied, Roswell turned down the heat.
Then shoved the herbs in the boiling water.
Roswell grabbed two bowls. Old things. That mitch-matched in color and the one Roswell kept for himself missed a chip. He poured some of the soup in it. The little meat that had been inside the pan was discolored and flakey. The herbs were watery. But it had the color of chicken soup. A marsh-like green.
He guided Destiny to his couch. (As his dinner table had one 1 chair.) And set down next to her. Roswell placed the two bowls of soup on the coffee table in front of them and pricked a spoon in them both.
"Careful though sweetheart," he warned her. "The soup is still quite 'ot," Roswell said.
"We don't want yer to burn yer tongue…At least... Not before yer brought me up by yer dad." Priorities, priorities.
--
“That’s only natural,” Roswell replied with a sheepish grin. “Oi mean he’s me aspirant. If anyone ‘ates him, it would be me,” Roswell said. “Not talkin’? It must be de name.” He continued to shittalk his son.
Roswell wrinkled his nose at the white color as well. But he sucked it up and picked it up. He placed his hands on its lit. He toggled with his fingers.
“Oi’d ‘oped lending Salvador would ‘ave eased the bonds between our two frictions for a bit but.. Salvador has such an effect on people,” he said. Giving Maribelle another sheepish smile. “He can be quite,” he rolled his head as if he was looking for the right words to say, “de hand full.”
Roswell’s eyebrows raised at the mention of food. There was one thing he liked more than shit-talking Salvador, and that was food. Free food to be exact.
“Oh oi loike beets,” he said. “Dey look loike radish. Dey crack so nicely in yer mouth.” Roswell nodded. “Me lips are sealed, if yer don’t charge me for dis,” he said. Lifting the box illustratively.
“Surely yer save,” he said as he pressed the lit open with his thumbs. His smile faltered a bit when he saw that sád little ginger cookie. He was going to feed that pile of misery to Gustav when Maribelle wasn’t looking.
He picked up the sandwich. Then took a bite. Void! Did he love meat! The salty texture of the hare contrasted the more dry taste of the bread sweetly, while the beets díd crack just right between his molars. It sure didn’t look like it but. It was the best meal Roswell had eaten that week. A king's meal. If the king was poor and could stomach beets.
“Oi gwotw, cwoffeepwoder,” he said. With his mouth full. Roswell nodded at his kitchen. He swallowed his bite.
“It’s partly made of real coffee beans. But mostly consist of pulverized wild chicory. It tastes a bit milky,” he said.
“Oi can pour yer a cup.” Roswell followed her gaze and when Maribelle looked at his box (and the sandwich he still held in his hand) he defensively pulled the bun towards him.
Then he realized Maribelle wasn’t asking for her food back. “Forks.”
Roswell shrugged. “Oi got some yes. Some spoons too. Yer loike spoons? Sure yer do.” Roswell said as he placed the box with beets still inside on his coffee-table and (with sandwich still in hand) made his way over to his kitchen.
“Don’t try to steal one of dose beets Angelcakes. Oi’ve counted dem,” he said. “Der are 4.”
"Just so you know, my guardian hates your man now." said Maribelle, as she approached Roswell, small boxes in tow. She set them down atop his coffee table. "He always talks to me about things like that. I wasn't really sure who he was talking about at first, though, until... You know, I went to work with him. We have a Salvadore at the base, like, with an 'E', but he never talks to me. He definitely wouldn't dance with me." ..She was still a little mad about having her dancing skills questioned.
She gestured towards the boxes. "The blue one is mine. I made it just for me. The white is yours." White is such an ugly color. "I caught a rabbit and roasted its meat, though. Put carrots and potatoes with mine, but yours I just put in a sandwich with some beets on the side, because I don't like beets... Also, don't talk about this, but I decided to bake, too. I'm not allowed to touch the oven, though, because it's rickety, or something?"
Maribelle nudged the box closer to Roswell. Sure enough, inside was a rabbit sandwich and beets. And a single, very-slightly-burnt ginger cookie.
"I just hope they don't find out it was me. It's not like I ask to use it, right?" she scoffed, "It goes well with coffee, though. I don't know if you have any of that." Settling down on the couch, she brought her own box into her lap. Oh, God, please don't spill anything all over his nice sofa. She stared into her own box, and then at his. There was something missing.
"You have forks, right?" she asked, as she picked up a little potato chunk with her nasty fingers, "I threw a lot of mine away because they started to do that thing where like... the sides get sharp... and I didn't want that in my mouth."
for np: maribelle will eat... almost anything. she fucking loves fruits / desserts / greasy ass food, though. she also eats A LOT. she might eat your entire pantry if given the chance.
"Oh! Marie!" the blonde abruptly chirruped, applauding out of excitement before she made a beeline towards the elder party. Her feet shuffled along the slurried sidewalk, retaining a steady, yet quick, pace.
"No, Marie—wait! Don't leave! I just wanna chat!" Zinnia continued to squeak upon arriving at Maribelle's side, brandishing a grin as she did so. While she listened to Maribelle speak, Zinnia tilted her head slightly before glancing at her hands. One of her hands, which contained a napkin folded around a rounded object, was now raising upwards.
"Oh, I have...I have a madeleine." After the younger party grunted her response, she used her free hand to pull on the corners of the napkin, revealing the small treat as she did so.
"Aiden gave it to me because he wasn't hungry, but..." The blonde cut herself off, rubbing her thumb against the grooved edges of the sponge cake before tearing off an uneven half of it. She then extended her arm to offer it to Maribelle. Whether the elder party accepted the free treat or not, the blonde nervously let out a giggle.
"Here you go! Anyways, is there anything you wanted to talk about...or do? I can't hang out for long; I gotta go to Miss Brown's house and watch her pokémon in an hour."
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NP, Zinnia isn't picky at all! However, she does tend to lose her appetite and stop eating (this won't always happen, though). She's very insecure about herself, specifically about her appearance and weight. Her favorite types of food include chocolate and/or nuts. Don't let this be a barrier to you, though! Go all out!
"Oh hi!" Andrea said, waving at Zinnia. "Could we... share a meal?" Andrea said shy, her tail wagging a bit. "Also! I brought sesame chicken, it's my favorite!" She placed the bag of food on a table. Andrea and Zinnia both sat down, looking at their plates. Andrea began eating her chicken, chopping down every bit of meat on her plate, Zinnia looked at her with a puzzled face, but didn't mind. "Oh, I'm sorry, I get very primal sometimes. Blame my feral self." Andrea spoke, putting on a embarrassed face, she lowered her ears and covered her face. Andrea could tell that Zinnia had lost her appetite, but she ate some chicken fortunately. "I swear, next time I will not embarrass myself." Andrea told herself.
For NP: Andrea can eat anything, but mostly meat and sometimes fruits. Whenever Andrea is sharing a meal ,(if it's pure meat) she gets protective, not allowing the other person to eat. Because of her species, Andrea can be a messy eater, so watch out XD
"Here's your share of the game," Jack said. He held out a squirrel on a stick. Skinned, gutted, and grilled. Jack sat down. Across from his fellow wolf and in the grass. They were sharing a meal in an open area of the forest. Their fireplace simmered and the campsite was littered with small rodent-bones. A macabre sight.
Jack had confiscated a rat-on-a-stick for himself and took a bite from it. His fangs easily pierced through the undercooked meat.
"So what are you exactly?" he asked. Jack's red eyes scanned Andrea. While his chin and mustache got soaked with grease.
"You're unlike any goat I've ever seen," the detective stated. Jack took another bite. He eyed her lazily while mauling over his meat. His ear twitched.
"You're a wolf too hu?" Jack asked in between bites. "Look at us," the werewolf said. He theatrically waved his half-eaten rat around. Before forcing out a short disingenuous chuckle.
"Two savages. Two beasts tearing up some poor critters. Only wolves do that."
Jack rubbed his chin clean after taking his last bite. One rat-on-a-stick was hardly enough to keep this werewolf fed. Andrea's demeanor shifted as soon as Jack only dared to look at her food. Jack reacted. Curling up his lip and growling (back) at her. He clenched his hands into fists and allowed his sharp nails to prick his palm. Jack shook his head. Then got up and walked over to his backpack. There he found some old dried-jerky.
That would do.
"There's a fishing-pond near," Jack said. As he returned with the beef jerky and pretended as if the incident and the growling hadn't happened.
"I can teach you how to catch pikes," he took a bite from the jerky, "if you like?"
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