The Gourmet of Evil

Affiliated with Citta-Alveare Apartment X-5 Equipped with a fencing foil.

[shuzaichu]

A Critical Interview (Closed)

[shuzaichu]

… Yeesh. This one was… conceited, was that the word? Well, whatever. But to have a literal throne, however… talk about extravagant. Maybe that’s just what she was

“Fine with me,” Aya exclaimed as she stepped inside— leaving her geta by the door (causing the girl to shrink in height due to the lack of elevation her footwear typically gave her) and stepping up towards the free chair while sitting down moments later.

… Was that chicken?

She did little to show it, but ah, how that aggravated her… she was pretty much watching her kind being eaten as she spoke. Ah, she felt a little sick…

“… Right, then! So, Miss Conchita, you’re a food critic, is that right?” Withdrawing her pen and notepad as she settled in to her seat a bit more, she placed the tip upon the paper and looked at the other.

“What type of food, exactly, do you critique? What places do you go to? Anywhere that suits your mood, or is there a certain system behind it?”

[epicureanfromhell]

"What do we eat?" Conchita asked a small chuckle escaping from her lips. "We eat all kinds, everything and everyone." Another bite was taken as she filled her glass with her most favored blend, Blood Grave.

"We have gone to a number of restaurants, cafés and anywhere that seems to serve the food." Of course she had only truly written one meal, a simple act of laziness on her part really but what could she do about it?

"We have found the world here to be strange at best, we have certainly been denied services by a number of these shit establishments simply for suggesting changes to their menu."

Speaking of which.

"Would you like to have a drink?" The woman asked lifting up the glass, a concoction of wine and blood, and presented it to the tengu. "Our most favored blend, it is exquisite and delightful, and we would like to ask for your input on the flavor."

[shuzaichu]

A Critical Interview (Closed)

Being invited to one’s home for an interview was nothing new for Aya. In fact, being uninvited to someone’s home for an interview was also nothing new to the tengu!

… Believe me, that sounded as bad as it did.

However, the latter was not one such occasion— today, Aya had been personally invited to interview a food critic in Hive City. A food critic, huh? There were people that did that kind of thing? She’d never really heard of a job like that— mostly because in Gensokyo, an occupation like that didn’t exist.

They must make some money if there are people that do it though, yeah? And it really would close down the crappier restaurants out there she imagined. Give the ones that need an improvement something to improve… all that good stuff.

And it was a good idea, in Aya’s perspective.

Rapping her fist upon the door of apartment X-5, Aya stood tall with her usual smile, hands falling to her sides.

“Hellooo— anyone there?” She exclaimed, not having waited for too many moments before speaking aloud. “This is Aya Shameimaru from the Bunbunmaru Newspaper! I came here for an interview with… Miss Conchita?”

[epicureanfromhell]

Calm and peaceful had been Conchita’s day, having recently found a restaurant that despite the epicurean’s rather strange taste in food had decided to accept her patronage. So, here she was ready to dig into a finely grilled chicken when suddenly her bell ran and a series of impatient knocks sounded from her door. The countess simply let out a sigh as she went to the door, the yelling having already revealed the nature of this visit.

“Yes, we are Countess Banica Conchita, the one who has invited you into our home, please take a seat.” She motioned towards the sole chair in the room, that is the sole chair besides the throne and the bed in the room. “Now if you’ll excuse us for eating during our interview we haven’t had our brunch yet you see.”

And without further ado, the Countess dug into the chicken, talking while she ate. “So begin your interview, we shall answer to the best of our ability.”

[epicureanfromhell]

Hall of Mirrors(Closed to Meiko)

[placeholdermeikourlhey-blog]

Alright, escape was looking less and less like a viable option here. Why did Meiko have to come across her cannibalistic counterpart today… She was too young to be an entree! She had so much to live for, so much left to say, so many performances left in her! This couldn’t end well. This probably wouldn’t end well.

Nevertheless, Meiko did her best to shake off her fear and look enthusiastic. If she played this right, Conchita would be sinking her teeth into some other sack of flesh, if any flesh at all. And if she played this wrong… well, she’d be the first dish on the menu.

“A-Alrighty! No need ta’ think of a backup plan. Just follow me. I’ll make sure ya’ get the best grub, I promise.”

“And if ya’ see anyone else that looks tasty while we’re walkin’, point ‘em out, n’ I’ll see what I can do.”

And so, through the streets Meiko walked, Conchita assuredly close behind. She glanced at the people travelling alongside them, people who might take her place as a meal. Something inside her hoped that the epicurean would lose sight of her, so that she could break into a sprint and get away from this living nightmare of a woman.

[epicureanfromhell]

To be feared was her right, to be feared was one of the simple emotions she fed upon, the fake smile of herself grinning back at her as her much less refined counterpart struggled against the trap that was slowly wrapping itself around her throat. “You better not disappoint, Miss Meiko.” Conchita replied with a sickening giggle as she looped one arm around Meiko’s arm, grasping her clone’s hand. “But just in case you ever think of leaving us to fend for ourselves.” And she grinned back with a conspiratorial wink as if the two shared some form of wonderful secret, which, they probably did... Though it seems to be at the great discomfort of Meiko.

“But out of everyone we have seen thus far, dear darling Meiko, you certainly look the most pleasant.” A small chuckle as the woman leaned in further until their foreheads almost touched. “However, we have decided not to consume you so early. No, we will enjoy spending time in our own presence for just a while longer.”

“Now about this dinner of ours, we believe that that young lady prancing about over there would make quite the meal roasted over a slow fire, would she not?” The woman smiled sweetly as she pointed to a young girl barely eight running after a balloon that was getting carried away by the wind.

[finalwill-deactivated20140224]

     oh gross.

me: but, like, what if you accidentally eat yourself too much? like, if you go overboard and just chow down like you’re at an all-you-can-eat-buffet or something? 

[epicureanfromhell]

"Yes? What seems to be the problem?"

"We were delicious and more than fulfilled our every desire as a last meal."

[finalwill-deactivated20140224]

me: so you cannibals out there. does your stomach ever growl from looking at yourself or anything?

[finalwill-deactivated20140224]

     my guess is no. i mean, i don’t get turned on by looking at my junk. but who knows. it might be a completely different drive.

[epicureanfromhell]

"We were the finest meal we had ever had. It's quite fortuitous that we found one with the appearance of ourselves in this strange city."

[epicureanfromhell]

headcanon words! glutton, pit, lion, combat, regime.

Glutton: You are of course speaking to the one and only glutton, the woman who ate herself to bed-ridden immobility and who then having made a deal with the devil returned herself to a svelte physique so that she may eat more.

Pit: There is certainly a pit in hell reserved for her, a nice darling place full of delectable food that she can never consume and full of drinks she can never sip.

Lion: Had she tasted a lion before? Perhaps she had but it was a taste long forgotten... she must make time to taste it again.

Combat: She is incapable at combat, unable to fight nor truly defend herself... She has soldiers and servants for that.

Regime: She is a cruel tyrant, all of her people must work to make food for her.

[epicureanfromhell]

Drabble: Song

Conchita smiled as she sat on the bench watching the scene unfold before her eyes. Two boys, about twelve years old, were playing together. One swinging a baseball bat with a form impeccable and the other matching his stature with a quick dance. Yes, in fact, the two seemed to be dancing with each other, the flash of steel, the dripping of sweat and the steady splatter of blood slowly mingling together in a small pool beneath their feet.

Conchita smiled, stood up from her place as a spectator, opened her mouth and began to sing.

"Always respect and honor her,pay tribute to your great Conchita.All the food that exist today,they were made only for her~!"

The woman slowly made her way towards the sole standing boy, his face grim, his breathing ragged and draped one red clad arm over his head... then she bent down and took a bite.

[epicureanfromhell]

favourite way of eating

"As long as the food gets in our stomach, we have no favorite way to dine."

[tendoyu-blog]

[epicureanfromhell]

Ask the character/mun: Ask the muse whatever you want for them to answer IC; or ask the mun a personal question to get to know better or to get an OOC answer [although we would like to keep these at a minimum]!

Truth/Dare: Be reasonable with the dares! If you start getting ridiculous no one will want to do them; characters aren’t really obligated to do all the dares they receive. Don’t forget about the truth part as well!

Headcanon: Anons send the character a word, or a name and you may write a small/long headcanon about said word!

Drabbles: Give the muse a prompt and they may write a short drabble on it.

[huanghou-deactivated20130621]

✺ fever for the vain

The black rukh fluttered all around Gyokuen, desperately clinging to her tenebrous soul. After the message from the queer black box ended, she smoothed her silk robes and made sure not a strand of her ebony hair was out of place. The empress walked outside with unyielding grace. Her looming shadow stretched behind her as the rukh grew more restless. The flow was weaker than she expected in this city as vile as this one. Panic failed to mar her radiant face, but beneath her mask stirred a darker beast. 

“Oh dear. How wicked of them!” She stared at her porcelain hands, flexing her lithe fingers. Not a drop of magoi could be produced from her hands. Trying again, the empress waved her arms in another refined motion. Instead of darkness, nothing but thin air surrounded her. She was so distraught that she could just chop them both off! Gyokuen continued her stroll through the near empty park, deeming it useless; her mind was far away. Her borg was intact, swirling around her invisibly so that not even a ray of sun touched her paper skin. It was only then that she noticed the thinning shell. 

Yet the weaknesses wrought upon her brought not her distress. It was that she could not bear the thought of not being able to witness the dark shroud that would cover her home. What tragedy! The looks on all her children’s faces! She might miss that sweet moment. But no matter… Hive City needn’t be spared from Al-Thamen’s embrace and that brought her smile back, sweet and sick. After a moment the rukh stirred again and she glanced in the distance, spotting someone’s vague outline. 

Stifling her giggles, the empress coyly moved herself in their path, certain that the stranger would see the vivid fuchsia of her silks. Her butterfly sleeves covered her part of face, shy as any bride. Gyokuen’s eyes, blue as a shining sea, were shiny with tears. Even her crying was beautifully rehearsed. Once the stranger was well near her person, then she deigned to look at them dauntless. 

“I beg your pardon. Fate is so unkind to me.” She sniffled, wiping away the few tears. ”Spare me some kindness, won’t you? I am but a lost woman, taken from home.” As her smile strained, the empress outstretched a hesitant hand at a safe distance. The borg would protect her, but she knew better than to be careless. Now… who was it that stumbled into the black widow’s web?

[epicureanfromhell]

Strolling down the street in all her majestic glory was the epicurean of infamy, the countess of fairy tales, the woman demonized as a vampire by the citizens of Beelzenia. Her robe of blood red flowing gently in the breeze, as said countess dabbed at her lips to wipe away the remains of her small breakfast.

The thought of it had her smiling once more, how delightful it was to consume a child in the prime of her life, to so easily cut off all the unknown potential of growth that her breakfast possessed was simply delicious.

Satisfied with herself, her stomach full she was simply taking a morning stroll to help digestion when this well dressed woman moved into her path. Perhaps it was due to the royal bearing that the other woman was showing, but her sudden appearance seemed to have sent a wave of hunger running through the brunette's stomach. It seems like her body indeed craved for seconds on this beautiful morning.

"Oh dear, it certainly would not do to have one such as yourself lower yourself to begging, we will provide as much help as needed." The woman replied smiling a kind smile followed by a curtsy.

"Would you like to join us for brunch? We will definitely have a place ready for you at our table." And so please pity the poor dame who has inadvertently wandered onto the devil's dining table.

[epicureanfromhell]

Hall of Mirrors(Closed to Meiko)

[placeholdermeikourlhey-blog]

“Yeah… A pleasure… Sure, let’s go with that, Miss Conchita.”

Every second Meiko spent with her cannibalistic mirror image made her even more fearful. The repulsive food eater’s hunger wasn’t anything that could be suppressed… as far as the singer understood. She’d offered up a body, but it wasn’t going to be her’s. No, she planned to take Conchita over to a morgue. Er, sneak her in. Something like that. Try to find a place with fresh bodies. there was no way that Meiko was going to kill for her acquaintance’s meal.

And yet Conchita wanted to feast on a certain alcoholic’s flesh. The thought of it made Meiko’s skin crawl. There really was no refusing this woman… What could the singer do to prolong her longevity in such a scary situation… She started backing away very slowly, hoping that her movements weren’t too noticeable. If the epicurean felt like taking a bite out of her shoulder, the least Meiko wanted to do was be out of reach.

“Wh- Mine? Yeah, about that… Thing is, there’s gotta be plenty a’ bodies out there that taste better n’ mine.”

“I-I can take ya’ around n’ see if ya’ can’t find anyone else ta’ feast on. Eat as much as ya’ want, and then if there’s any room left… Well… Shit, just save me for dessert, alright?”

Bargaining.

That’s the best you can do, Meiko?

[epicureanfromhell]

The evil food eater smirked as she advanced forward one more step and watched the singer flinch away, afraid of her. Her reputation certainly did precede her and her attempts at bargaining was most adorable. Conchita, certainly, felt a small desire to simply let the girl live. Would that not be something?

As her gaze wandered, once more, over the expanse of exposed flesh her counterpart showed so casually she could not help but run her tongue over her lips so taunted by the desire to sink her fangs into herself.

The next words that she heard brought a true laugh out of Conchita, the countess holding one hand over her mouth. "We are amused by your simple assumption." She says with a twinkle in her eyes as her finger found its way cupped under Meiko's chin. "But seeing as how we are talking to ourselves, we will accept your request and follow you to where you believe you may find us a suitable dinner."

"And in the event that you may fail, we will simply dine on the spot."

[epicureanfromhell]

Restaurant Review: Nameless Café

Your dear critic, the highly acclaimed epicurean, Banica Conchita has decided to take it upon herself to investigate a number of available places to dine.

Name: █████████ Type: Cafe

'twas a brisk spring evening, that I decided to step into such a small establishment. The scenery that presented itself before my eyes was that of a quaint innhouse, often the place where commoners met up. The cafe was surprisingly welcoming, and despite the size of the room was quite close to full. The amount of peasants with time to waste was certainly a tad too high, but that was soon forgotten when I saw the variety of dishes offered..

I, of course, had planned to savor all of the available goods offered and having established myself as a woman of power, and was soon being led to a seat, accompanied I was by a young waitress. The peasants who owned this place had, as stated above, certainly a diverse menu. I was shown delightful dishes of raw fish from the town of Enbizaka, to the hearty meal of sausages and potatoes that Elphegort was so famous for, I was assaulted from all sides with every imaginable taste one could ask for.

Yet they soon ruined the quality of their service as the evening droned on. They refused to serve what I asked for, even giving them the recipe for Blood Grave seemed to not be enough to convince them and I was forced to forego the drink. A true pity, but a noblewoman like I was quick-witted enough to improvise. So, I partook of the blood of my server. A wondrous taste soon filled my senses and the dinner I had previously consumed was all but forgotten, so much did her blood enchant me.

So how could I describe such a wondrous substance? Her blood was sweet, yet held a hidden bitter aftertaste that could only be due to some form of repressed hatred... It was certainly something, and the flavor was only added to by the look of pure disgust and horror she gave me.

All in all, I could not describe this dining experience as a positive one, considering how your dashingly handsome critic was banned from ever entering the restaurant ever again.

Food: 8/10 Service: 0/10

[epicureanfromhell]

[epicureanfromhell]

((So... Conchita used to be really obese.

Interesting, this needs to be put into my roleplay forthwith.))

[meddlingfashionista]

Dishonesty Hour

[epicureanfromhell]

Send Me Questions And I Will Answer With Definite Lies

[epicureanfromhell]

Hall of Mirrors(Closed to Meiko)

[placeholdermeikourlhey-blog]

…Yeah, that was to be expected from the oh-so-classy repulsive food eater. The two women were so similar, and yet so different at the same time. This was someone that Meiko had just a little fear of, though she did her best to conceal it. If an introduction was what Conchita wanted, she might as well give it to her.

“Name. Right. Gotcha’. Name’s Meiko. I’m a performer. At least, I used ta’ be. Ain’t had a performance in a while, but ya’ get th’ idea.”

The expression on Conchita’s face said it all. Meiko was off the mark completely in terms of dining options, and it must have offended the epicurean. Now she was worried. The last thing the entertainer needed was to become the dinner of a woman she’d played before. What irony.

“Shit… Guess trash is trash for even you. Uh… I mean, I can find ya’ some flesh ta’ snack on. Freshness’ll vary. It’s not every day that I go huntin’ around for some poor sonofabitch ta’ eat, so…”

[epicureanfromhell]

"A pleasure it must be for you to meet us, Meiko." Conchita acknowledged her introduction with a simple nod of her head as she ran one rather pink tongue over her own lips. That small tinge of fear wedged in the midst of such defiance must have covered this girl's flesh with unbelievable flavors.

And that blood, oh my, how she would love to actually hold the liquid life into her glass and sip it as she watched her other self's defiance slowly break under her. Just the thought made her drool, which Conchita rather quickly wiped away. No sense in letting the other woman know that she had developed more than just a little interest in devouring her.

As her next words registered, Conchita looked back up with a seemingly friendly smile. After all, she had mentioned human bodies and Conchita could certainly feast upon those, for each human always tasted different from each other. The multitudes of tastes to be expected, had this time brought a flow of drool down her lips and left the woman in a momentary daze.

A daze she would soon break out of, "Yes, human flesh is an acceptable offering to us, and we would be most pleased with yours."

[epicureanfromhell]

Blood, glorious blood! (CA open|| Intro)

[wellsongs-deactivated20130503]

          —Oh? That, almost definitely, would be what’s ‘off’ about this one: perhaps she doesn’t have hunger so much as she does hunger in more general sense; she doesn’t have a craving, but rather craves multiple things.

          Or she herself is simply leaping to conclusions here, much as she - in reality - wants to find a viable justification for her deciding to spend her time bothering the blue-blood. To her credit, however, it’s more difficult to interpret the expression of desire such as ‘if you would give us your neck’, etc., metaphorically than it is to interpret it literally; to assume the other hungers for flesh (or at least what she perceives to be flesh), then, wouldn’t be all too far-fetched. Suffice to say, the doll is far from an expert when it comes to the dietary habits of humans, and nor has she ever wished to be, but nevertheless does she that the woman’s hunger is a subject worth prodding at.

          Curiously, what little has been brought to light here perks Elise up considerably, her mock-pout yielding to a flash of a smile. Rather than flinch in the face of that threat, she seems to revel in it: her head lolls to one side really rather suddenly - thus revealing more of her sculpted neck - as though to subconsciously tempt her that bit more; henceforth, her head hangs at a grotesquely awkward angle as she peers up at her, smile never wavering.

          ”Ah— But do you look for flesh or for porcelain in a meal?” (She dares to lightly drum her fingers on her exposed neck, hoping to emphasise her form’s hollowness. Failing that, it can quite easily serve as another prod.) “Either way, I don’t care, you see, much as what goes into humans’ stomachs is the business of humans and humans alone. I would much rather keep this vessel, however, if it is all the same to you ─ so you shall have to find satisfaction in nibbling on something other than my neck!”

          Never mind how this assertion is received by the other, she herself apparently finds humour in her own words, that she giggles soon afterwards evidencing so much. Her laughter, however, is cut short as she sets right her posture, tilting her head upright once again as she adopts a sort of childish indignation once again.

          ”Uu, you’d do well to think things through before speaking, lest you risk making a bigger fool out of yourself… Look at me ─ what reason would I have to’cook’? I’m as empty as your stomach is right now, yes, and have been forever. I haven’t a need for eating, so nor have I a need to know how to prepare food.” But - alas - nor does she have any plans of leaving her be, even in light of her culinary ineptitude.

[epicureanfromhell]

The hair was moved, the skin revealed and Conchita could not help but gaze at the pure whiteness of her flesh. It was almost porcelain-like, and yet, how repulsed she felt towards so simple a task of biting but at the same time felt an almost unconscious desire to simply sink her teeth into such a beautiful creation. After a brief moment of self doubt, the Countess reached forward and grabbed a hold of the child's shoulders and did just that, sinking her teeth into the soft supple skin.

Well... She would have, had her victim actually had soft supple skin for her teeth to sink into. Instead, her teeth hit hard unforgivable porcelain and heard the following familiar crunching and shattering sound that accompanied her biting into her last meal with dishes. The unfamiliar sound surprised her as she certainly did not expect to hear it on what she assumed had been a human girl.

Yet surprise was not the only thing, for Conchita was irked by the denial of her meal. It was unjust after her expectations had peaked for them to be dashed so easily and her stomach agreed wholeheartedly with that notion, letting out a rather angry growl.

"We will engage your help." Conchita muttered a perfect image of wounded pride. "And beseech you to find us food."