Carnival Bookmark
{ Just a bookmark thus so far for the Stardrop Carnival!
4 Chase / Emiko Posts
3 Chase / Yuzuki Posts
Total: 2 AP
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
noise dept.
tumblr dot com

Origami Around
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Xuebing Du
Peter Solarz
ojovivo
Three Goblin Art
trying on a metaphor
taylor price
$LAYYYTER

pixel skylines
hello vonnie
d e v o n
No title available
KIROKAZE
todays bird

JVL
will byers stan first human second

seen from United States

seen from Russia
seen from United States

seen from Pakistan

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from Uruguay

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
@bitterbatter
Carnival Bookmark
{ Just a bookmark thus so far for the Stardrop Carnival!
4 Chase / Emiko Posts
3 Chase / Yuzuki Posts
Total: 2 AP
Just Desserts || Open
nevertoomuchcake:
A man with strawberry blond hair and violet eyes walked into the bakery. She watched as he glanced over the displays with such a pointed look she was surprised when he asked for a recommendation. He’d given the impression he was looking for something specific—maybe they didn’t have it?
“Well,” she said looking over their inventory. It was a bit odd to say which of her creations were most popular. Especially with everyone having such varied tastes. What if he was one of the rare ones who didn’t prefer chocolate? Or didn’t like things too sweet?
She walked over to one of the displays with the easy-to-eat desserts. The ones that didn’t require utensils to eat. (Though she supposed one could forgo table manners and eat slices of cake by hand.)
“If you’re wanting a quick fix for your sweet tooth you can’t go wrong with cookies. If you want something a little more fancy I’d recommend the cheesecakes.” Goodness she sounded so generic. But how could she tailor a recommendation without knowing anything about his tastes?
“Though if you’re in the mood for something a little different lemon tarts are a good way to go as well.”
She looked back at the man to try and read his expression though she hadn’t been doing a good job of it so far. “Do any of those sound like something you’d like?”
Cookies. The typical homebound favorite, and something he couldn’t fault her for recommending. He wasn’t having an easy time figuring out what he was actually looking for, as it seemed that no matter where he looked, it wasn’t what he had in mind. How was he supposed to understand tenderness when it came to baking anyway? It seemed as though Maya and Yolanda had set him up for failure, but-- perhaps he was just griping over spilled milk again.
His eyes flicked back and forth, and back and forth. Like a clock docked on a cafe wall. He was biding his time and it was starting to feel like if he didn’t make a choice soon, all the sugar in the world would spoil over. But the closest thing to something he liked was... the lemon tarts? But was he here for something he liked? Or maybe--
“Do you have a personal favorite? Either to bake or to eat, you know?” That was it. He should figure out how things are done by tasting her favorites. (And it would hurt for him to pop a few RP on some lemon tarts or something later too...) It wouldn’t be like he was playing Russian Roulette if he stopped spinning the wheel.
“I guess I’ve been sent on a wild goose chase. By a few...” Friends? “...acquaintances. So I just wanted to try something with uh... how would you even say this...” Ugh, this was really awkward. He wanted to forfeit any shred of dignity he had left.
“Something that would make someone at the other end of the table...” A few words caught on his throat, as he tried to figure out how to make this any less cheesy. But there was nothing stopping this train now that it was going. Cheese was all that was left for the both of them.
“...Smile?”
Jupiter- What is something you’re afraid people would find out about you?
... ... ...
A lot of these questions were too personal for his tastes.
Mars- If you could change one thing about yourself, what would you change?
"..."
"A chef never settles. You either get better or you quit." He wasn't quite sure if that answered the question, but who said questions needed an exact answer anyway?
Autumn Wonderland || Open
treasurede:
To be honest he didn’t expect to be in this much of a mess. Really he decided to swing by the area to check if there was somewhat edible food in the trash cans. Normally people would be disgusted, but this was his normal. Looking for shelter and food. He didn’t have a home, nor did he have a stable job. Sure he may have looked pitiful, but he was doing his best. Besides it wasn’t all too bad.
It wasn’t very difficult. For one he didn’t have to worry about paying bills, but that came at the cost of actually looking for a place to stay. Not that he minded, since he could roam practically everywhere. Practically. There were restricted areas of course and he wasn’t going to even attempt to stay in those areas. Considering they were guarded and they were probably restricted for a good reason.
However while he was looking through the trash for anything that could have been any use there was a raccoon. As long as he was careful there wouldn’t be any issues. Wrong. The raccoon also wanted things from the trash, and the result was him trying to fend the raccoon off with a trashcan lid while trying to scavenge for things as well.
A voice yelling at him made him realize the racket he was making, but he couldn’t exactly stop it. Unless he wanted to have some scratches and bites from a raccoon. “Sorry!” He called out while he began to back away slowly.
Perturbed. He was kindly, sweetly, wholeheartedly perturbed by the sight of a guy trying to fend off a raccoon in front of his house. If anything, Chase would have probably stopped to think that the guy could have probably had a little more finesse with his shield work. Kidding. What did he care? It was almost cartoonish, the way this complete stranger was up and about so early in the morning getting torn to shreds by a raccoon.
Clicking his tongue, he could have left this all behind him and tightly shut the door to this unwanted intrusion. But there was something about the desperation of battle that made him freeze for a second’s notice. Sorry, sorry, sorry. That’s all strangers were these days. Sorry. He guess this occasion warrented a sorry though, for all the needles that metaphorically pricked down his back. Or should he say raccoon nails?
“Uh--” Did the guy need help? What was the line Chase was going to draw? “Are you kidding me?” Hissing under his breath, he was something akin to a steam pressure pot. Out came the steam and wisps of translucent smoke. And what was left was this rather empty feeling, like an ache. An itch. As poor as his personality fizzed to death, there was some human courtesy to him. A shame, really. He really was a pot. Empty after all the steam blows over.
“Hey-- Hey!” Turning his spout towards the raccoon, he stepped out of the house with a bored look to him. “Get away from that guy, you little--” Making shooing motions towards the raccoon, he slowly, slowly lowered himself to grab onto a stick. Spilling his intentions with his half-hearted body language, he guessed it looked like some half-ass trying to make a fool of himself.
“What the hell did you do to this monster to piss him off so badly?” His amethyst eyes flicked over to the stranger before hopping back two steps to get out of the raccoon’s range.
One Word Writing Prompts [pt. 2]
Send me a number 1 thru 50 for a word that I’ll use to write either a headcanon, drabble, or starter. Send 🔄 for a random number instead.
01. — evidence 02. — here 03. — funeral 04. — puppy 05. — gloves 06. — blackboard 07. — muse 08. — magic 09. — clean 10. — secret 11. — superstition 12. — fantasy 13. — test 14. — tease 15. — storm 16. — strawberries 17. — weapon 18. — beach 19. — lost 20. — cry 21. — aloof 22. — blood 23. — tower 24. — block 25. — search 26. — lively 27. — remorseful 28. — dismiss 29. — heavy 30. — forward 31. — prowl 32. — cut 33. — compromise 34. — impulse 35. — hush 36. — morals 37. — engage 38. — voice 39. — awkward 40. — lower 41. — plead 42. — caring 43. — believe 44. — found 45. — shield 46. — open 47. — tactile 48. — journey 49. — hero 50. — scowl
Autumn Wonderland || Open
There was a discrete difference between comfortable silence and the biding kind that gradually ate away at your mind. It left him in unease: these days where the autumn leaves would drape over the entire town, stagnant and disconsolate. For one who preferred a reclusive lifestyle, he ironically couldn’t stand this kind of livid stillness. Shifting in his bed, he rolled to cover himself up tighter before crumpling up again. It would be best if he could just shut his eyes for a few more hours and recline to his more basic desires. Like, oh I don’t know…
Sleep?
Off in the distance, he could hear the crackle of old leaves under feet and scrambling shenanigans. He couldn’t recognize what exactly was going on outside but it reeked of trouble. He wrinkled his nose at the thought, before tossing a pillow over his head.
Sleep.
Was it because he was hypersensitive in the morning? Was it because the Goddess had condemned him to a life of high blood pressure and crippling intolerance? Whatever it was, he was both acutely attuned to whatever ruckus was going on outside and inversely… too lazy to go check up on it.
Sleep.
Then came the insistent knocking and screeching. (Okay maybe he was just exaggerating that part... and all those parts... just a bit.) Definitely not sleeping anymore. He groaned in exasperation, rubbing his face absentmindedly before rising up like a dead man given a second chance. Yeah right. More like cursed to haunt the living, if he had to say so himself. Cramming a few bobby pins in his hair and tidying himself up in the most half-assed way possible, Chase pulled open his curtain to check up on his unwanted visitor.
He was right. It did reek of trouble. He shouldn’t have opened the curtain—it would have been safer to stay inside and keep his head down. But that plan was definitely out the window. He slid on a light sweater and cracked his door open just a bit.
“Could you leave it for another time? It’s too early for this!” His tone was biting, but he couldn’t raise it too high without waking one of the neighbors up.
Activity Check { 7/28 - 9/15
{ Off Hiatus
Earned: 1060 RP
Total: 1060 RP
Rune Seasons' First Ever Event!
With a good ol’ summer wrap up, our Fireside Festival has come to a close! The great out doors are just the right place to… fight a bunch of bees, seduce a bear, be jumped by a man in a dog suit– wait. That doesn’t sound ANYTHING like a camping trip?
In any case, Mimi and Levi should probably think twice before hosting another one of these odd events. But hey, at least the Adventurer’s Guild got what they wanted right? With the Zephyr Blade in tow, the two went for a cup of tea and were on their way.
What’s so special about a branch anyway?
All chatrooms will come to a close today! If anyone wants to continue a thread (and wants it as part of the document) feel free to send in a Google Doc and we’ll edit the document accordingly. Otherwise~
Happy First Event!
Dishrag Days || Maya & Chase
Unreliable, a bit dim around the ears, and downright caustic. He was met with no finesse, just somewhat of a reminder that constant sunshine was a chore. To be honest, Maya and Yolanda were as different as sugar and salt– so to be in company of one meant he had to deal with the whole full course meal. That’s funny. It’d be a full courser if Maya was even a pinch capable of making a dish without it ending up going right through you. Kind of preferred not to sit at a porcelain throne if he could help it.
Well, it was… something. He could think all those things and say all those things, yet still manage to royally backstab his own sorry standards. His eyes flicked to his phone again. It was kind of like a bad habit, to seek out his phone like a lifeline. He wasn’t glued to the thing at all, no. It was just… convenient. To pull on one end of the string telephone and get someone pulling right back. On days that he didn’t have the spoons to handle another session of shallow small talk, he occasionally escaped to the back to toss in a few leftover scraps.
[ Chase to LMMistake ]: You’d think the downpour would do Brass Bar some good.
He could hear the rain pitter pattering from outside the window, and cursed it under his breath for another job-half-done. The customers were still coming in like usual. Hell, he could probably figure that the place was packed because it was raining. Or…maybe he was just a bit war-torn from the last couple of days in a rut, and less looked a lot like more. Tying up some of the trashbags that were on the verge of overflow, he left them by the backdoor before catching a glimpse of the disaster outside. What he wouldn’t give for an umbrella under the sun.
[ Chase to LMMistake ]: Umbrellas. [ Chase to LMMistake ]: New age curses for the weary.
Especially since he forgot to check the forecast. But hey, he’d camp out until it lightened up-- and escape to his humble abyss of a bachelor pad. Keeping his eyes peeled, he checked up on the counter and sighed dryly. Well. Duty calls. And at the end of the day, Chase ought not to be caught quintuple texting if he knew what was good for him. With a slide of his phone back into his apron pocket, he ducked away from his daily dosage of escapism.
Could he take a rain check?
@yamalot
late nite || sebastian + chase
caffeinatedvertigo:
Even though it’s dark, Sebastian can tell this place is probably one of the more colorful towns he’ll end up visiting on his trips. He’s seen plenty, even in the short amount of time he’s been heading out into the world to… who knows? Experience life? Have a quarter-life crisis?
Maybe both. The place is colorful, alright? That’s all.
And Sebastian is tired. There’s a certain thrill to riding his bike late at night, but once you get tired, you should get off as soon as possible, unless you want to fall right over on the bridge you’re crossing, or whatever. Sebastian, however thrill-seeking, doesn’t want to end up doing something stupid like that. If he’s going to endanger himself on his bike, it’ll be because he’s actively doing something reckless, not putting himself through sleep deprivation.
However sleep-deprived, he’s not quick to find himself somewhere to sleep. No, his mind works too fast for that, especially after riding through the night. He’s not even sure what time it is, just that it’s dark and he’s alright with entering the first place he sees.
Right. Food. Food? No, he’ll order something to drink. He settles himself up on a stool (because tables are just rude to the poor people who have to wait them at this time of night) and rests his arms on the bar. “Is it possible I could get somethin’ like a Shirley Temple?”
Every place has some sort of version of that, right? He doesn’t feel like anything… heavy, tonight.
@bitterbatter
Another one. Hell if he knew why strangers came and went as they pleased. Where did this one come from? The city? He counted folks that weren’t from these parts like he counted sheep. And boy, were the nights sleepless. He knew people recommended a story before bedtime, but it was the talkative, storytelling types that were often in over their heads. Chase took a quick gander at the guy, sizing him up in one glance before flicking his gaze off someplace else. Well, at least he didn’t look too troublesome.
... ... ... Didn’t look like a virgin bargoer either. What the hell? He figured the mop bangs and dark circled mess called for something a little less... err... Animal crackers. In his soup. Chase gave the guy an acknowledging nod for good measure, opening his mouth just to shut it. Well he guessed the dark circles weren’t the only things loopty-looping.
“...Sure. Virgin. On the rocks, right?” Really tried to make that sound a little less judgmental. Truly. How does one do that with a dead, fish-eyed look on his face? “Did you want some--”
Monkeys and rabbits-- “-- thing else with that?”
Damn. He knew intrusive thoughts were a thing but it was the first time the Goddess forsakened him in the form of a bad 1930s jingle. All these weird pauses probably had the guy on the other end of the counter rolling. Just don’t make eye contact. Grenadine. Check. Ice. Check. Ginger ale... out since the last Shirley Temple. Which was a while back. Righhhhht. He popped open a new bottle, gleaming in a sleek green shell of glass.
The bottle cap popped off like a dream. And rolled off like a nightmare. He could have sworn he saw it going in slow motion, like a terrible movie flick, clicking to a stop near the guy’s arm. Yeaaah.... just like a movie.
“...Now restored in full color.” He muttered sarcastically, to himself. To himself. (Probably.)
Same Somebody || Felicity & Chase
Castanet was a cesspool--a black kettle, even-- for visitors. It was just that kind of place. To be frank, he couldn’t believe he’d ever gravitate back to it... since it didn’t suit him. The sentimentality. But in hell’s kitchen, sometimes the gut knew before the brain did. Something about Castanet was just... alluring. And he couldn’t do anything about it but go with the flow. Since that was the case, there was no wonder that tourists and visitors alike would gravitate toward it--like the last slice of cake. Gill would probably cry tears of gold knowing his pretty little peninsula brought in a hefty amount of attention.
Ugh. Speaking of attention...
Yolanda said he had an appointment today, with some girl off from some place with some name. He probably had to have some tact, since she probably wasn’t just some girl from some place-- she had a big name out there in the culinary world. A critic, something about a tongue fit for honey. (A.K.A. the residential poison taster in a King’s Court.) Well... unfortunately, a name was just a name. Chase wasn’t one to remember them, anyway.
He didn’t bother looking her up. In fact, he used that time that other’s put into research... on better things. A person was an occasion. A dish was forever. Hell, all he had was hard work, anyway, so he spent his time prepping for a better ‘forever’. Whatever she asked him to serve, he’d serve her just the same as he did any other customer. With a dash of hard work and a mentality of a guy who had nothing at stake but... well. Steak.
And speak of the devil.
He might have been wrong about this, but the girl who popped in was just the sort of person who’d be dragged into this homey, cozy, trap of a town. But even if she wasn’t that ‘some girl’ he’d treat her just the same anyway. “Welcome to Brass Bar. What can I do for you?”
@foodiefeli
Weeping Wallflowers || Candace & Chase
Slow day. Really slow day. The bar music wasn’t helping his case. He could have done without the slow jazz, careening from the jukebox stereo systems like a half-drunk tango. The notes were billowing, painstakingly rocking in a way that would make even a shipwreck jealous. This was really a drag, but he supposed he had to look on the bright side of the shot glass. At least he didn’t have to roll out the hospitality. Polishing his fifth glass, he nodded to himself. Yeah. Wouldn’t need to play nice if there were no customers to play nice to.
The usual tide of people were here. You had your driftwood, your seaweed, your ever-elusive seashells. Hell, he could even hear the usuals (in their burly, knuckle-headed blue and red) from where he was standing. There was nothing more relieving than the satisfaction of company. And no, not that kind of company. Not the kind that he had to factor himself into. Company, where everyone had someone else to preoccupy them was the best kind. He could be at ease, with the worst case of social loafing on this end of the bar counter.
Wait. What was she doing there?
“Candace?”
Damn. He couldn’t help it. He shouldn’t have said a word, but the sight of her at Brass Bar was one that stuck out like a sore thumb. You know. The whole... uh. Periwinkle thing. Weeping myrtles kind of suited a family diner, over a bar. Granted, Brass Bar was way more of an eat-in than other bars, but it was still... well. Sea and foam, grit and sand. A strange place for wall flowers.
Was it weird to just-- stop talking? Maybe he should have just taken the L and leave? But it was far too late for that. Sliding her a menu on based habits alone, he paused with his hands still pressed on the laminated edges. “Wait. Are you here for something? Or someone?” Had to make it clear, after all. It would have been easier on him if Chase could leave her to that mysterious ‘someone.’ Another person to tend to the flowers.
@fabricologist
Just Desserts || Open
nevertoomuchcake:
Elli walked around the small bakery, putting things in order and wiping down the counters. There had been a rush earlier in the day and she finally had some time to straighten up the place. She didn’t mind working so much. In fact she was glad for the business. But a lull never hurt anyone, especially when it gave her time for a small break. However brief it may be.
Elli was in the middle of organizing the display cases when she heard the all-too-familiar chime of the bell, signalling a customer had entered.
“I’ll be right with you,” Elli said over her shoulder. After putting the last doughnut in place Elli closed the case and stood up. Brushing off her apron, she turned to the customer with a bright smile.
“How may I help you today?“
Rumor had it that the bakery around these parts had a taste of tenderness to it-- the kind Yolanda and Maya never failed to remind him he needed more of. What was tenderness to a person, anyway? He was painfully aware that he was probably just overthinking once again-- Sigh. Contructive criticism should always be appreciated in the culinary world. Frankly, he’d take it like a spoon full of cinnamon down his throat, if that meant he’d strike gold.
But tenderness? He griped to himself, kind of half-listening to that sing-song voice that greeted him as soon as his feet met the welcome mat. You couldn’t just learn that, could you? His eyes flitted sharply, taking a full panoramic view of what he had to tackle next. Goddess. A moment of silence for his Goddess-be-cursed soul. The pastries and breads were all lined up with decadent buttercream pearling and hand-detailing for every bread fold. Well. They always did say an epiphany felt like the purging of one’s demons, but he never thought he’d be caught feeling--? What would the word be? Awe-struck? As though he had been struck on the head, with an egg spoon.
His expression could have shown an inch of how he felt though. Nah. Wouldn’t want it getting to anyone’s heads. With a half-lidded look in his eyes, Chase realized the next daunting task. Small talk. Glancing at the way she struck a winning smile, he knew he had to get past this friendly business talk with a death grip on his social spoons. “Right- hello.”
“Do you happen to have any recommendations?” Attempting not to glance about too much, he met her smile with a not-so-sour, just-a-bit-citrusy half smile of sorts. “Anything would be fine, so long as you think it’s popular.” Maybe he’d get a better idea of what went on in a sugar pop’s head if he just heard it from the source. (Everyone was a bag of dumd-- lollipops nowadays.)
Great Escake || Neil & Chase
Formalities. He wanted anything other than that, given that all the “two cents” in the world were tossed in a fountain to be forgotten. He was talented at avoiding that nonsense now-- a professional apathizer. In his softer moments he’d give in to the flow of things, but otherwise, he wanted nothing more than to stay in his lane and learn to float. That is... if this damn world would give him a chance to breathe. Owen was at it again, with his marble-filled, happy-go-lucky notions of... well, whatever. Hospitalities, he guessed? Humble, really. Smelled of something more devious than what he let on.
The guy wanted to slide this stranger a cake. Put it on my tab, he said. Fah. He felt like an in-between dealer, the messenger to be shot. At the very least, his cake should have been up to par. Chocolate. The kind that sponged in a richer, more vivid notion of delicacy. A riveting piece, one that was meant to move people. Well. The worst that could happen was the small talk that came with. He could taste the monotony like hardtack on his tongue.
With a dull look in Chase’s eye, he slid the cake over with the guy’s drink-- a delivery that would put Apollo to shame. “Here. It’s on the house. That guy--” He struck the air bluntly, to indicate the hard-headed fellow in the back. “wanted to--” See the look on your face. Said you probably needed to smile more. Today. Probably. Chase wasn’t prepared to be skewered so early in the evening. He hadn’t even prepared his obituary papers yet.
“Treat you to something nice.” There. That was enough of that. Professional, lackluster. Like a rusty spoon, probably. But hey, at the very least, it wasn’t a skewer. Now back to the kitchen, with a pivot of his heel. Before he felt the heat of sentimentality froth from this guy’s mouth.
@mooslikejagger