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femchef · 3 months

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Risu took me out to a really, really lovely restaurant for my birthday last night - so if anyone wants to know what tasting menus are like buckle up and sorry about the blur on some of the pictures.

The place we went to is in Charleston, it’s called Zero Bar and Restaurant located at the premises of the Zero George hotel (name is from the street location, which is at 0 George St., how do you end up with the zero?).

We were early, and sat at the bar for a drink while we waited for the restaurant to open up seating. This is a tasting menu restaurant - that means you don’t really choose what to eat, and you are sitting down to experience a lot of courses. There are a few choices, but everything is determined by the chef and staff. It’s also the type of restaurant where if you tell them you are celebrating something (in this case a birthday), everyone on staff knows and knows who and makes a point of quietly acknowledging the occasion, from the point you walk in the door to the point you leave.

Risu had a vodka-based cocktail with calamansi and mint, I had a bourbon cocktail with leather and walnut syrup, and cherry.

We were seated on time at 6 and the server walked us through the menu and our options (we chose to add on the caviar service, I chose black truffle with my pasta and Risu chose to forgo the truffle, Risu chose the wagyu instead of duck for the entree), and the beverage manager checked in with us about our options for pairings (we decided not to do the full wine pairings since we weren’t spending the night, but he offered to do two half-cocktails to pair mid-meal for me with some of the dishes).

The first round of courses came out about 15 minutes after seating - I like the format they use here! Instead of a long train of singular dishes, you start off with rounds of small bites eaten in order before the main points of the menu:

The first set was 5 dishes. The first, which is not pictured, was an interactive dish. You place fresh shiso leaf on the palm of your hand and the server then gently scoops a round sphere of white, nitrogen frozen meringue perfumed with a fruity, savory interior on the leaf. As you eat it, the ‘smoke’ from the frozen meringue puffs out of your nose.

The dishes in the picture above were eaten counter clockwise starting from top-right: delicate, fresh oysters sauced and garnished with vanilla bean seed, chestnut mousse on a kelp cracker (it was a little concerning how they had to keep telling people not to eat the rocks, but I get it), a half-smoked ‘cigar’ that’s a crisp filo shell filled with beef tartare and cigar ash made from mushroom powder, and a ‘potted plant’ of young radishes rolled in butter and potted in a soil made of mixed grains and seasonings.

(Again, sorry for the blur, it was starting to get dark) The second round was 4 small dishes. In the first photo of three, these were eaten counter-clockwise starting from the top-right corner: small, dressed quail century egg served in a teaspoon, a sweet, donut fritter, and shrimp toast (I think that one was both our favorite). The fourth was a buñuelos with squid ink and passion fruit.

At this point the house manager checked in and also swept the table with a brush to clear off some of the debris from the various presentations, and to set our first round of silverware.

Not long after the plates cleared, the caviar. Service was brought out - the server portioned the caviar on our hands, at the join between thumb and index finger - this allows caviar to warm with the natural heat on your hand so that you can enjoy the briny sea flavor and creaminess - and prepared two shots of a nice Japanese vodka that was icing on the service tray - yeah I didn’t take a picture of the caviar part, since it was interactive, but the glasses were very pretty! The caviar was salty, oceany and creamy and the vodka was some of the smoothest I’ve ever tried.

The first singular dish out was a tuna tartare with crispy fried sunchokes. This was lovely and creamy, nice balance of textures and a pleasant balance between salty, sweet and fattiness.

After the setting were reset with fresh silverware, the second dish was a pasta dish - tortellini with tender, caramelized garlic bread and a sweet, citrusy cream sauce. This was the part of the meal that came with the truffle service, so you can see the plates with and without in the pictures.

(They offer both white and black truffles - personally I prefer black because they are nutty and warm in flavor, where white truffles are a bit too pungent for me)

I’ve reached the picture limit so consider this Part 1

#food stuff #fine dining #dining #food

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dogtoling · 9 months

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Question: Can inkfish even eat chocolate? My headcanon is that Inkfish can eat chocolate but only in very small amounts and probably with an age limit. I imagine that chocolate was brought over via trade with another species that can eat chocolate and inkfish might have gotten a little addicted to it. Kind of how squirrels are addicted to chocolate but shouldn't be eating it.

They can eat chocolate. there is a ridiculous amount of chocolate-flavored things and chocolate drizzle is something people love to put on stuff, we just had the splatfest (normally splatfests are a questionable canon source though). Chocolate is toxic to a lot of animals, just like pretty much everything is in certain amounts - humans have a weird amount of tolerance to a lot of things in nature that are meant to be toxic deterrents but we're like omg poison sooooo yummy. given how Inklings evolved to be somewhat omnivorous and really enjoy fruit, it wouldn't be far fetched to me that they also developed resistance to a lot of stuff. hell, maybe they can even eat berries that are toxic to us.

idk. Really i dont think about things like this much at all because i know that even if you deep dove into animal diets and made a comprehensive list of what human foods a squid could be able to eat, or what it could theoretically evolve to eat, it would never add up to what's in the actual game because it's first and foremost a human parallel. If we're being real, squids are carnivores and they shouldn't be eating pretty much anything except fish and crustaceans and each other and like, worms. But in the game they're eating waffles and ice cream and avocado toast and whatever the hell else they absolutely in no way should even be able to digest, lol.

So they clearly have omnivorous adaptations despite mainly being carnivorous. I like to think it's so they can supplement their diet easier because the amount of calories that an Inkling needs in a day is literally ridiculous, if we look at pre-civilization Inklings or even modern inklings that play lots of turf war. Considering HOW they move changing forms, swimming, producing that much ink, super jumping, having no bones so a LOT of their movement is almost purely through muscle, ET CETERA, you'd be REALLY GRATEFUL to be able to eat something that doesnt require chasing and is calorie-dense, and metabolizing sugars is something that would REALLY HELP THAT (which brings us to stuff like noodles, rice, bread).

Fruit is an especially notable thing and I believe it was one of the first things Inklings started eating when they started developing away from being purely carnivorous. Fruit has a LOT of sugar which is good if you can metabolize it and you're a hyperactive species that produces like their own weight in ink in like an hour if given the chance, and fruit also has a LOT of WATER which is. Well, read above. same thing. The water is really the main thing they would NEED to get through their diet, way more than solely eating meat provides on average

kind of a ramble there but it's tangentially related i promise. ALL THAT BEING SAID. there's definitely foods that have been brought cross-species through trade. i'd like to think stuff like rice and wheat actually wasn't commonplace with inklings and vegetables are VERY new in their culinary culture, especially things like lettuce. They probably mainly had things like crustaceans, fish, eggs, fruit and whatever prior. There's a piece of stage dialogue in Splatoon 1 that implies vegetables literally didn't exist until like less than a hundred years ago but idk if they just made that up.

#mailbox

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p1zzabrainz · 1 year

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G E T. M A G I C A L. G I R L E D. I D I O T

(( truly. the pinnacle of this blog. ))

#- mod junie speaks #pizzahead #out of story #paper jam - fanart tag #squid-ink-on-toast

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jester-writing · 1 year

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I put Amelia project characters into incorrect quotes

Alvina: This is such a bad idea. Interviewer: Then why are you coming along? Alvina: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

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Alvina: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running? Interviewer: Oh, I’m always running Interviewer: The question is from what

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Alvina: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Interviewer: You mean literally or figuratively? Alvina: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

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Alvina: I was thinking I'd do some magic- Interviewer: You? Magic? Alvina, it says talent show.

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Alvina: Interviewer and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's- Interviewer: Sentences. Alvina: Don't interrupt me.

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Alvina: Interviewer... Interviewer: Oh no, 'Interviewer' in b-flat. Interviewer: You're disappointed.

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*Alvina and Interviewer skipping stones on lake* Alvina: It’s such a beautiful evening. Interviewer, whispering: Take that you fucking lake

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Alvina: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works. Interviewer, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

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Alvina: You're right. Interviewer: That's... That's an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?

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Alvina, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Interviewer: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

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Alvina: I slept for almost 12 hours but I might still be tired so lets go for 12 more just in case. Interviewer: Alvina, that's a coma. Alvina: Sounds festive.

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Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. Alvina: Shit. Interviewer: Wait, three? Cop: Yeah? Joey: OH MY GOD SALVATORE FELL OFF!!!

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Alvina: *Gently taps table* Interviewer: *Taps back* Joey: What are they doing? Salvatore: Morse code. Alvina: *Aggressively taps table* Interviewer: *Slams hands down* YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

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Alvina: Can I be frank with you guys? Interviewer: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help. Amelia: Can I still be Amelia? Kozlowski: Shh, let Frank speak.

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Alvina: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Interviewer: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Alvina: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING AMELIA WITH ME Kozlowski, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

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add any other ones in the reblogs i guess

#the amelia project #the interviewer #Amelia #alvina #kozlowski

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angmarenthusiast · 1 year

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PRRPM incorrect quotes

Summer: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on. Tenaya: It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m mean and Ziggy isn’t

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Dillion: Where are you going? Tenaya: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

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Dillion: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it. Summer: Dillion no. Ziggy: Mistlefoe. Summer: Please stop encouraging them.

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Scott: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works. Flynn, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

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Ziggy: Gem was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some. Gem: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it. Ziggy: Gem, you ate a chair.

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Scott, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Dillion: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

---------------------------------

Gemma: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity? Dr. K: *turning to Ziggy* How tall are you?

---------------------------------

Gem: I turned out perfectly fine! Gemma: Gem, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast Gem: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

---------------------------------

Dr. K, addressing the squad: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box. Ziggy: But – that’s just a trash can. Dr. K: It sure is!

#how tf did i go from liking tmnt to liking pr #power rangers #power rangers rpm #ziggy grover #scott truman #tenaya 7

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disneythingsilike · 12 days

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Twisted Wonderland at Tokyo Disney Resort

『ディズニーツイステッドワンダーランド』の各寮をイメージした特別なコース料理が、期間限定で提供されます！

[Twisted Wonderland] Special course meals inspired by each dormitory will be available for a limited time at Disney Ambassador Hotel! !

Here is the website for details about the location, the Empire Grill restaurant, as well as how to make reservations.

The price for each set is 13,000 yen, which is roughly $88. Starting at the beginning of the month of April, special courses will be offered over 8 periods that last a week each.

The first period ran from April 1st-7th with Heartslabyul being that period's theme.

The Heartslabyul Set details:

~Plate in the top center~ Strawberry scented gazpacho red snow crab brandade

~Big plate with the card suits on the left~ Galician style octopus Sardine and paprika confit Beef falsomagro Grilled scallop and salpicon salad Grilled salmon marinaded in dill sauce Beef tongue arancini

~Plate in the top left corner~ Green onion and scallop linguine with garlic and oil awa-odori chicken consommé soup

~Plate in top right corner~ Grilled domestic beef sirloin with fresh onion puree Peperonata and beef jus

The dessert plate at the bottom is a white yogurt rose with mandarin orange sorbet inside that you can 'paint' red with mixed berry sauce.

The set also came with a Heartslabyul Dorm charm.

The Heartslabyul Magical Drink costs ¥1,600 It contains apple juice, grape juice, iced tea, rose syrup, and strawberry syrup.

Coffee and tea are also available.

The second period will run from May 13th-19th with Savanaclaw as the theme.

The Savanaclaw set details:

~Plate in top center~ Cold fresh green onion soup and Parmesan tuile beef extract consommé jelly

~Big plate on the left~ Pear compote with prosciutto Spinach and bacon cake salé with semi-dried tomatoes Daisen chicken rillettes and gougères with Ras El Hanout accent Braised lamb and turmeric couscous Colorful pickled vegetables 3 kinds of port in aspic and mustard

~Soup Plate in top left corner~ Beef shank and chickpea potage

~Plate in top right corner~ Grilled lamb and roasted vegetables Chimichurri and thyme flavored beef jus

~Dessert plate on bottom right~ Mango mousse on banana confiture with lime and ginger sorbet.

This set also comes with a corresponding dorm charm.

The Savanaclaw Magical Drink looks like a yellow version of the Heartslabyul one. It contains grape juice, green tea, grapefruit juice, and pear syrup.

The third period will feature the Octavinelle Dorm and run from June 24th-30th.

The Octavinelle set details:

~Plate at top center~ Cassis jelly and mascarpone mousse Mini fishcake burger

~Big plate in bottom left~ Seasonal vegetable grecque and dried mullet roe Grilled octopus and mustard-flavored risoni consommé jelly Grilled marinated scallop with blood orange sauce with a side of caviar Flounder brandade and marinated angel shrimp on bamboo charcoal toast Escargot croquette with shellfish sauce aurore Herb marinated salmon with hibiscus pepper

~Plate at top left corner~ Squid ink spaghetti with seafood ragu Garnished with orange

~Plate in top right corner~ Grilled beef fillet with mushroom fricassee and purple sweet potato puree Ris de veau frites and spiced beef jus

~Dessert plate~ Blueberry mousse in blueberry confiture with apricot sorbet

This set also comes with a corresponding dorm charm.

The Octavinelle Magical Drink looks like a purple version of the Heartslabyul one. It contains grapefruit juice, lemonade, butterfly pea flower syrup and lychee syrup.

The website teases that sets for Scarabia, Pomfiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia will be "-Coming Soon-"

A "Secret" set is also teased. It seems that it will come after Diasomnia.

#Tokyo Disney #Tokyo Disney Resort #twisted wonderland #food #disney park

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salemtheshroom · 1 year

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first actual post!! gonna post some names that i like :D (long list)

A-

aster

aspen

atlas

ares

astraea

astro

avery

athena

aurora

arrow

B-

blair

bones

bat

basil

bee

blade

button

bubble

C-

cedar

cinder

cloud

celeste

crayon

comet

crow

clover

cove

cricket

D-

dakota

dirt

demeter

E-

echo

ezra

elliot

ethereal

elfrida

F-

fallon

forest

fang

finch

frog

fog

flower

fox

fawn/faun

G-

gabriel

griffin

gray/grey

ghost

goblin

H-

haven

harlow

harper

hadeon

hibiscus

I-

isle

ivory

iris

ink

J-

jinx/jynx

jace

julian

juice

K-

kate

katie/katy

knife

kiss

kole

kade

klaus

L-

lucinda

lyssa

lemon

lime

lupin

lynn

leaf

lead

loki

lucifer

M-

morpheus

moth

must

maeve

mango

mint

maple

mercury

miss

mush

mushroom

moon

N-

nero

noodle

noon

nightmare

night

O-

opal

onze

oak

onyx

olive

oat

obsidian

ocean

owl

otter

orchid

orange

P-

pandora

pluto

phoenix

panda

peach

pine

puddle

poppy

parker

pond

Q-

quartz

quil

quinten

quince

quinn

R-

rae/ray/rey

rayne/rain

ren

river

rock

robin

raven

S-

sawyer

storm

sage

spencer

seth

shadow

sand

sky

soda

soup

slug

sparrow

space

stitch

star

squid

sun

selene

T-

toast

tauriel

tea

topaz

twig

toxic

toxin

U-

universe

V-

vix/vyx

vamp

void

vine

velcro

vortex

W-

winter

wish

witch

wolf

wren

THAT IS ALL :D have a nice day <3

#name change #gender neutral names #name lists #name ideas #name suggestions #salemtheshroom #transmasc

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soleilnomoon · 2 years

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OKAY, one more!!! And I'll stop harassing you (for a lil bit) how about Reader scores a spot in a major competition TV show that makes the participants do extreme/weird challenges (think Squid Game but maybe less deadly, or it can be deadly that's up to you). On your first day of the competition Y/N has been partnered with a handsome and over-confident (Gojo!) stranger you instantly despise. Enemies to lovers trope. They have to work together to win or will they just sabotage each other? \o/

hi babylove🥰️🥰️🥰️, you're always so patient for me, i could marry u, yk that??? anyway, i had way too much fun writing this, and if i didn't stop, we'd have a 10k fic on our hands (not that i'm complaining bc you of all ppl know i would write that for u if u ask it of me), but gojo is a menace and relatively tame!!! sort of!!! this def is leaning more towards the squid game route, which is probably why it'll have to have a part 2 (maybe a 3 or a 4, who knows) anyway, yk i'm a sucker for enemies to lovers, that's my ultimate jam ❤️️

3.4k words (shh i know), sfw (slightly suggestive), 18+, mdni; angst, angst, angst; reader is broke as hell and gojo is obnoxious af; the competition is definitely shady, and the host doesn't make anything better, but we all love a good mystery, right? no real warnings other than gojo is a pretty mfer who needs to sit his pretty ass down somewhere.

several stacks of envelopes litter the kitchen table, accompanied by an untouched plate with a now cold breakfast — a poached egg, thin slices of burnt, buttered toast, a few measly grapes, and half of a banana. lukewarm café con leche sits a small mug with a faded design on the front and a chip on the handle, surrounded by torn pieces of napkin, the piles growing by the minute.

a light flickers in and out from above, the last working bulb as the others have all gone out and are too damn expensive to replace; the air conditioner went out a week ago, and, even with the windows open, the heat somehow finds its way into the apartment building, cooking its inhabitants without a second thought.

after staring at a suspicious spot on your wall, your vision blurs and you blink rapidly in the hopes that it’ll return properly. you stopped opening the envelopes after you found the fifth bill. everything is due, and you have nothing to show for it.

“damn it.”

hot, bitter tears roll down your cheeks, ones you ignore and don’t bother wiping away; a pink envelope catches your eye and you grab it without thinking. there’s no return address on the front, but your name is written in an elegant script with silver ink.

you briefly wonder if it’s another wedding invitation, which only makes you laugh out loud — your friends stopped inviting you ages ago, after you kept flaking. a familiar ache plagues your chest, and you rub at it absently; you don’t like thinking about stuff like that, about friends you couldn’t keep, about promises you kept breaking. it was never intentional on your part, not really, but circumstances brought you to where you are now.

there’s no going back.

ripping the envelope open, you don’t see anything inside but a small business card at the bottom. it’s completely black save for an address that’s printed on the front in white ink. blinking repeatedly, you turn the card around, don’t find a name or even a business logo. strange. very, very strange.

“whatever, probably nothing serious.” you toss the card in the trash and clear the kitchen table.

more pink envelopes find you as the week goes on — on the windshield of your car, tucked neatly under your windshield wiper; on top of your keyboard at work, where you look around suspiciously to see who could’ve left it there; and in your tote where you carry groceries, which surprises you as it wasn’t in there before you went into the store.

“fine!” you exclaim loudly, tossing the last envelope onto your messy bed. “i’ll go to whatever stupid address you keep trying to lure me to.” you’re not sure who you’re talking to, but clearly someone desperately wants you to see them. and, after all the bullshit that life’s thrown at you, what do you have to lose?

your life? your dignity? your sanity?

on your day off, you decide to check out the address in question. it’s a little over an hour away, but you don’t care. curiosity gets the best of you, has you driving faster than usual — you tend to stick to the speed limit most days — music blasting as you eat a granola bar, giving yourself a mini-pep talk as you try to guess what could be waiting for you at your destination.

when you arrive, you’re surprised to see a crowd of people outside of an isolated building. you suppose that this is where your mysterious stalker wanted to go, so you keep to the back of the crowd, hoping to just hear what they have to say and leave. the card sits heavily in your wallet; you’re not sure why you brought it with you, but you didn’t want to take any chances — you’re stuck in your thoughts and barely notice the crowd has quieted down significantly, parting swiftly to allow for a tall man to stride through. he’s dressed sharply — slim fit suit with a tie to match, hair neat, face blemish free. everything about him screams elegance, but something about his eyes — the sharpness of his gaze, of how he commands silence without even speaking — sends a chill down your spine.

you’re rarely spooked, but something about him tells you he’s not to be taken lightly.

“welcome, welcome,” he says after a while, a small mic is attached to the lapel of his suit jacket, and stands on the small stage in front of the crowd. you hadn’t noticed it before — probably because you’re all the way in the back, but you strain your neck and try to listen anyway. “you all have been chosen to participate in a competitive show, where you have the chance to win millions of dollars.” that gets the crowd going. you jump when everyone starts shouting and clapping, voicing their approval of the grand prize.

with a tight-lipped smile on, the man continues, “it won’t be easy, but if you put in hard work, it’ll be worth it in the end.” you find that his words are vague enough to absolve him — and whoever is financing this endeavor — of whatever happens should something happen to the participants. no one else seems bothered by this, though, and you know you shouldn’t get hung up on it, but your gut is rarely wrong about these things.

“sounds like a load of shit,” comes a smooth voice behind you; with a slight frown, you turn around and are greeted with a cheeky grin from the person behind you. he has on a pair of dark sunglasses — so dark you wonder how he’s able to see through them — with an all-black attire, a startling contrast to his pallid skin and frighteningly light hair — so silver it’s practically white. you don’t like that his voice is pleasing, you also don’t like the way he shoves his hands in his pockets and tilts his head as he towers over you.

gojo satoru isn’t necessarily strapping for cash, but he loves a good challenge — plus adding more money to his reserve can’t hurt; the idea of fame and fortune is lucrative enough to make him want to participate freely. he’s noticed that most of the people gathered here today are either in dire financial situations or just like the idea of being on TV. he pities them, and you, apparently.

he spotted you immediately when you arrived, having been there early enough to scope out the competition — you were the last one to come, and you didn’t seem apologetic for your tardiness. he runs his tongue along the back of his teeth, noting how pretty you are, despite looking like you don’t want to be bothered — and, naturally, he wants to do just that; push you and see how far you’re willing to let him dig until you snap.

something tells him it’ll be a sight to see.

despite having chugged two energy drinks, you still feel tired. you run a hand through your hair, tugging on a particularly stubborn curl, brown fingers untangling it, fuming when it doesn’t cooperate the way you want it to, as he watches closely. you can feel his eyes on you, but you’re not sure — again, his sunglasses are too dark for you to tell.

“do you need something?” you ask carefully, eyes narrowing, plush bottom lip jutting out as you attempt to figure out his angle. “if not, leave me alone.” you swivel around and face forward again, attempting to tune back in to whatever bullshit they’re trying to sell to the crowd about the competition.

“ouch,” gojo says while rubbing his chest absently, “not the friendly type, huh.” you roll your eyes at that, let out a frustrated breath and keep your face forward.

“something like that,” you mumble, mostly to yourself, but he hears you loud and clear.

“don’t worry, that’ll change soon.” he sounds so fucking sure of himself and it pisses you off. you ball your hands into fists, nails pricking your skin; he notices the tension in your shoulders, in the stiff way you keep your head and neck straight, and snorts quietly. he places a hand on your shoulder and you practically leap out of your skin, shimmying out of his grasp, eyes widening — your brown eyes aflame, your anger bubbling quickly. he laughs and puts his hands up, an apology dangling off his tongue, but you cut him off before he can say anything.

“look, i don’t know what your fucking angle is,” you say venomously, arms crossed over your chest, “but the next time you touch me, i’ll cut your hand off.” you’re not serious, but you hope your face is bitchy enough to deter him from trying that again.

gojo simply laughs and tucks his hands back into his pockets. “noted, shorty.” for some reason, the nickname that never really bothered you before, truly grinds your gears now.

“whatever, just stay away from me.” you move forward to give yourself some space and realize that the man on the stage has disappeared and everyone is being ushered through the front doors of the building by several people in matching uniforms. you hesitate, watching the crowd move away from you and from gojo who — for whatever reason — decides to hang back alongside you.

lips twitching, he glances at you, amused by your standoffish behavior. “scared?”

you blink in surprise, but your brows slope downward as you stare him down. “of what? this?” you scoff and start to walk to the building in question. “never. i’m not afraid of anything.”

this is the first of many lies that you’ll exchange with gojo throughout the duration of the competition.

the interior of the building reminds you of a ritzy hotel — glamorous, expensive, the floors so shiny they can be used as mirrors — and you frown at the thought. you’ve lived in the surrounding area the majority of your life; you’d know if there was a hotel of this caliber here. gojo explains that the building was recently bought and renovated over the past year, which makes sense, but still doesn’t explain why the outside is so bland and empty.

again, you feel an uneasiness crawl into your stomach; something doesn’t feel right. when you look over your shoulder, you see two more uniformed employees stationed at the double doors — almost as if they’re blocking you all in — and others patrolling the area. you try to look around inconspicuously, but eventually follow the others to the main ballroom. it’s more than spacious enough, chairs and tables strategically placed around the room. you take a seat in the back corner and grab one of the complimentary bottles of water that sit on a shiny tray in the middle of the table. it’s an expensive brand that you can’t find readily in stores. you wonder how much it cost to buy so many cases, wonder how many thousands of dollars you could make if you stole them all and drove off without looking back.

the water is surprisingly cool, running down your throat smoothly; you feel refreshed and pissed that it tastes so good — meanwhile you’re stuck refilling your reusable bottles using the crappy tap water back at home. the man in the suit reappears on stage, commanding everyone’s attention as the lights dim. he, once again, welcomes the crowd to the competition.

“before we can begin, there are a few clerical things that need addressing.” his voice booms around the room, and the lights come back on as the uniformed employees make their way around the room, passing out thick packets of paper. “your contract is binding,” the host says gleefully, a sly smirk on his lips, making you narrow your eyes, once again feeling that something is very off about this whole affair. maybe you shouldn’t have come at all.

your chair makes the loudest scraping sound against the floor when you scoot away from the table and stand up. an employee blocks your way and you raise a brow at them, lips pressed together as you attempt to summon all of your patience in order to speak politely.

“please, move out of my way.”

they don’t move and the host turns his watchful gaze towards you. “ah, ah, ah,” he waves a finger in disapproval, “no one can leave until we finish the presentation, okay?” his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, everything about him is fake but something in his tone makes you hesitate before taking a seat again. “excellent” he claps his hands together and continues droning on about the contract. “please read through everything carefully before signing. it’s your standard contract, basically outlining that you cannot sue us if you get hurt while performing some of the stunts.”

murmurs break out amongst the other contestants, to which the host follows up with, “but rest assured, you will all be perfectly safe. all of our courses have been tested, this is just in case, you know? we all need a little guarantee in life, right?” he laughs and the crowd laughs with him — save for you, gojo, and a handful of others. “alright, folks, take your time and hand the contract back to any of the uniformed employees. there’s a section where you can check whether you’d like to continue competing or not.” and, before he steps off the stage, he scans the crowd, and ominously adds, “just know, that it’s in your best interest to stay and see this through ‘til the end.”

“nope,” you mumble to yourself, flip through the thick packet and chew on your thumbnail anxiously. “this shit’s suspicious as fuck.” there’s no way the others can’t see what you see, right? you’re not the only one who thinks all of this is bullshit. you flip to the back page and sigh, opening your water bottle again and taking a small gulp. you turn your head and see gojo — he’s much too tall for the chair, long legs spread as he takes up more space than necessary. he has a sleek jaw, slender nose, and relatively nice lips even if all they do is spew nonsense.

immediately you scoff at the thought, hating yourself just a little the longer you look at him. and then he does the worst thing possible; he takes off his sunglasses, places them neatly on the table, leans back against the chair and closes his eyes. impossible, absolutely impossible. his fair lashes curl delicately around his eyes, and he rubs his eyelids briefly before opening his eyes again.

it’s your fault for deciding on that moment to drink more of the water — water that you choke on — it’s also your fault that you keep looking at him. you knew, even with the sunglasses on, that he was handsome, but this? this was absurd. something much more breathtaking than a diamond, glittering more than gold or silver, he radiates a graceful beauty that pisses you off. he catches you looking at him and the corners of his lips curl upwards as he tilts his head, hair falling over his face from the movement.

“oh, hell,” you say out loud, forcefully squeezing the life out of the water bottle unintentionally, the liquid shooting out of the open top and splashing on your face. a couple people snicker around you, and gojo tries to hide his amusement but fails. irritation prickles underneath your skin, bowling over the embarrassment you feel over spilling water over your self — again, you’re at fault for staring for so long, you should’ve looked away when you had the chance.

your face heats up and you scramble around and grab some napkins to dab up the water.

gojo, meanwhile, focuses back on the contract before him, taking a deep breath before flipping through the pages with his lithe fingers. speed reading is an art that he mastered a long time ago — and contracts weren’t anything difficult, he could read them in his sleep. there are a few predatory clauses that stand out to him, glaringly obvious ones that he’s sure the host banked on the contestants being too ignorant to sort through.

he lifts his head to count the employees again — there are twenty-five currently in the room with concealed weapons, which strikes him as odd; if this is just a competitive game show, then why would they need to be armed? he files that away to investigate later, but more importantly, he’s reached the last page of the contract.

while the host didn’t exactly lie, there are two boxes there — but opting out of this competition before the allotted 30 days are up, puts you in a lottery for the next one, and so forth. basically, you can’t get out of the contract with this unknown corporation, unless you complete the minimum requirements. his theory about the competition falls into place; accepting their invitation is the first step, willingly entering the building is the second, and the third is signing the contract. no matter which option you choose, you’re doomed to compete. he bites his lip and slips his sunglasses onto his face, hating how bright the light is inside.

the contract also outlines the requirements for competing — there are 100 contestants in total, and everyone will be paired off into groups of ten; these groups cannot be changed without clearance from the host or whichever manager is running the game in question.

your brows furrow together as you try to figure out how to get out of this, not wanting — or caring, really — about competing anymore. without you knowing, gojo changes seats so he sits directly across from you.

“i take it you’ve read the contract, right?”

his voice slides down your body, thick like honey, and equally as tempting. you hate it, you hate him, and you hate that you’re actually looking up and engaging.

“obviously,” your voice is clipped, terse, you don’t want to talk to him more than you have to.

“so you know, your best bet is to partner with someone inside the group, right?”

you know what he’s getting at, but you hate that it’s him who is suggesting it.

“your point?” you don’t bother drinking from that villainous bottle of water again for fear of choking in his presence.

it’s cute that you keep pushing back against him, that you don’t want to like him — he can tell. that stubbornness might be your downfall, but he doesn’t hate it; in fact, he might just like that part of you.

“my point,” he leans forward, and you flinch, his cologne a rich, earthy mixture — sandalwood, warm cinnamon, and amber — choking you as he continues talking candidly with you, “is that we should work together. it’s obvious there’s something much more sinister at play here. it’s good to have allies.” you watch the way his mouth moves, take note of how white and straight his teeth are, and for some reason, you’re wondering if running his mouth is all he’s good at.

cheeks aflame, you cough into a closed fist and consider his proposition. “tempting,” you pretend to think it over, but in all honesty, he’s right. but you don’t like it, don’t like that you haven’t found anyone else to partner up with, and don’t like that he might be your lifeline in this competition.

“let’s start with introductions, yeah?” he places his hands flat on the table. “gojo satoru,” he says briskly, and then grins cheekily, “now you.”

you blink slowly and sigh, tugging on your curls in frustration. “fine, i’m y/n.” he already knew that, though; he knows everyone’s name in the room, actually — he’s done his due diligence, he just didn’t think he’d be stuck with a bogus contract. he’s sure they’ve also locked the doors to exit the building too.

“well, y/n,” he drawls, extending a hand for you to shake, “let’s make sure that we come out on top.” you know better than to trust a smooth talker like gojo, but you place your hand in his anyway, surprised at how cool his skin is, and shake it firmly. you hope you’re not making a mistake, hope that your body will stop making you think impossible things about the man before you, and hope that if you must participate in a bogus competition, that you’ll actually win the money.

after all, what will all this be for if you can’t manage to do a simple task like that?

#fic request #this took forever but i am done!!!!#sora i hope u like this ily sm #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo is a menace without even trying which makes him the worst kind #i can't believe i typed this in a few days who am i

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books-of-the-great-leviathan · 1 year

Text

Chapter 4- Luca

***

"...And to Laurais she said, you'd be better off dead, and your head 'pon the gates of my new land..."

"...And the king he did flee, and with terrible glee, Valeria called out her command..."

"Laurais did laugh, and turned back to the queen, and declared she wouldn't be winning. But his words they did die, as the queen he did spy, and she was not afraid but grinning!"

Luca took Cereza's outstretched hands. She nodded, and together they took a deep breath, their voices joining in unsteady harmony.

"So the sky turned to lightning and thunder," they sang, "as her witch-king brought storms galore! Laurais' armies were roasted and burned up and toasted, and the land was Valeria's forevermore!"

Luca let out his breath as he and Cereza whirled toward their audience and sank into a low, theatrical bow.

Sirin stared, her eyebrows arched, while Niive sat with crossed arms and a flat expression. Between them Puppy gave a little yip, its round blue-and-gold eyes shining.

"Well," Luca said after a pause, "at least the cute one liked it."

"It makes no sense," Niive said, uncrossing her arms. "Why did the Aiatar help her? Why did he want to join with her? He wouldn't do something that ridiculous. She had nothing to offer him in return."

"She had a crown, and power, and all sorts of things," Cereza replied, ticking off on her fingers. "Besides, he was in love with her."

"That's not a very good reason," Niive said.

Cereza looked at her feet. "It's just a play. Just a story."

Kind of a stupid story, Sirin signed.

Niive smiled, showing a mouthful of pointed teeth. She was taller than any of them, a pale, lean girl with long black hair, dressed in a simple linen shift. Her eyes were the bright, unblinking gold of a hawk's, the arrangement of her face at once lovely and alien. No islander, she, though she could certainly be as critical as one.

"I agree with the witchborn," she said. "Is it popular in Lapide, or did you write it yourself?"

"It's extremely popular," Luca protested. "The Lay of Valeria and her Conquest of Lapide: How she Freed our Beloved Island from the Chains of Estara."

"Extremely popular," Niive echoed. "And where is this play extremely popular?"

"Well," Luca said, "I saw it performed many a time at establishments all across the docks and harbors to universal acclaim."

Isn't it a taberna show? Sirin signed, her lips twitching as if she were suppressing a smile. A mummer's play?

"You people have no respect for theater." Luca bent to snatch up a ragged flap of sailcloth painted with swirling patterns in squid-ink. Cereza had used it as a makeshift curtain, representing the veil of snow Valeria's witch had summoned to hide her warships' approach.

"It's a good story," he went on. "Queen Valeria, sailing from the Great Blue, coming across a Lapide recently freed from the shackles of the Sundered Empire. Split by civil war, run by usurpers, falling apart."

He lifted his hand as if holding an imaginary sword, imitating the statue that stood in the grand agora of Valeris Palace. "Without her, and without her witch-consort, Lapide would've probably been snapped back up by the Belmonts years ago. She unified the people, brought order to Lapide, made it prosperous. Made it its own country, not just a northern backwater territory of Estara. "

And I'm sure Estara feels the same, Sirin said, her expression wry.

"Cut out the treasonous talk, Sirin. You know you like it too."

This time she did smile, her full lips twitching into a small grin. Luca couldn't help but smile back. Puppy pushed its head under Sirin's hand, and she stroked it, her fingers sending ripples of iridescence across its sleek black fur.

Also, she added, lifting her hands, your voice is terrible.

"Oh, you critic." Luca tossed the balled-up sailcloth at her. She caught it, neatly, as he'd known she would. "Cee, you have the water?"

She passed him a battered old canteen. He drank, staring past the sides of the schooner and across the sea, eyes narrowed against the flare of sunlight off the water.

The sea stretched, infinite.

Each day he searched it for something besides wind and waves, and each day he failed. Land seemed like a dream, a doldrums mirage conjured by a feverish mind. All the world might be the Great Blue, islands long-since swallowed up. Luca had tried to chart their location by the stars, but they were useless, constellations unfamiliar, his compass needle flickering back and forth, never settling. A week had passed, a week of sun-seared days of terrible theater and lonely nights scattered with stars, broken only by the whisper and heave of the sea, by the creak of their schooner, which had been reduced to a broken hull drifting on the waves.

Their sails were gone, their mast and rigging gone, torn away by the Great Leviathan's maelstrom. Niive managed to push them forward, funneling the winds down to coax the schooner along like a child blowing on a toy in the bath, but in six long days and nights no land had appeared on the horizon, no ships, no end to the monotony of waves and hard blue sky. They'd managed well enough so far, fishing, eating up the hardtack from the few supplies that hadn't been swept away, drinking rainwater summoned by Niive's power, but Luca knew they couldn't stay like this forever.

If they didn't find a way out of the Great Blue, find a way back to the charted waters of the Inner Sea, they'd die out here after all.

The water stung his cracked lips, and his thirst hadn't abated much. It never did, no matter how much rainwater he drank. He lowered the canteen.

Is there to be more? Sirin asked.

"Hmm?"

More...singing?

"Oh. No. Unless you want to hear the Lay of the Orkwife's Daughter and the Young Gallant of Ishvol?"

I'd rather lay in my grave, Sirin said with a snort. She rose and stretched, cracking her neck, and crossed to the ragged jut of what had once been the schooner's bowsprit. She stepped out and settled herself onto it, one leg hooked beneath her, the other dangling. She was gaunt from the past week of travel, her dark skin sunburnt, like Luca's own. Sirin's hair, once cropped to her scalp, had grown out in dense short twists, softening the lines of her head.

Neither looked like what they had been: witchborn and prince, in command of fell artifacts and ancient magics. Instead they looked like what they were now: a pair of shipwrecked survivors cast adrift on the Great Blue, the vast and windswept nothingness beyond the outer ocean.

"You'll miss my singing one day," Luca called.

She didn't reply. Luca stared after her for a moment, his brow furrowed. She'd been that way since the storm- there one moment, gone the next. Something had shifted with her; he felt it around her, a new tension in the air, a new tension between them, a fragility he couldn't explain. Something was different.

Maybe she just needed time. Maybe they all did. So much had changed. Still, he couldn't help but think of the Sirin who'd held his hand as the waves roared closer, who'd forced the water from his lungs, who'd saved his life.

He went to the edge of the schooner and sat on an upturned bucket, beneath a ragged canopy of sailcloth held up with the house of Valere's ancestral harpoon. One end was stabbed into the deck, the other supporting the canopy. This time of day, the sun beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, it cast a swath of shadow cool as a healing balm. Come noon, the canopy and Niive's wings were their only respite from the sun. Not so long ago Luca would have been aghast at the prospect of using the harpoon as a glorified tentpole, but these were heathen days.

Luca fetched out a cake of hardtack and bit into it. It almost tasted good. That was a bad sign.

Shadow fell over him as he chewed; he looked up and into Cereza's face.

"How is it?" she asked.

He shrugged and swallowed with effort. "Could use some Buyani caviar if you've got it."

"Shame. I'm all out." She bumped her knee against his shoulder. "Move your arse. I want to sit."

Luca moved his arse. Cereza settled alongside him, her elbows to her knees, her feet poised on tiptoe. She was sunburnt, too, her long blonde hair ragged and dry and knotted with salt. Luca knew she must hate it. As a little girl, she always cried when her maids had to work the tangles out. He offered the hardtack biscuit, and she accepted, breaking a little piece off and feeding it to Puppy. The little creature sat at her feet. Luca stroked its ears, and it yipped, blinking its huge eyes up at him.

"You liked our play, didn't you?" Luca asked it.

It licked his hand in response, leaving behind a smear of iridescent spit.

"Maybe it wants a bite out of you," Cereza giggled.

As if it understood her, it yawned, exposing a mouthful of teeth. Its white cuspids seemed disproportionately huge for its head. For all Luca knew, it did understand her. The little creature was a complete enigma- what it wanted, what it was hungry for, even what it was.

Deep beneath the waves, deep inside himself, deep inside the dying heart of the Leviathan, he'd made a promise. Now, on the edge of the world, in the vast nothingness of the Great Blue, he had no idea whether or not he'd be able to keep it.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he muttered. His voice sounded like it had begun to rust. Maybe he'd had too much hardtack.

"What happened, Luca?" Cereza asked quietly. "What really happened?"

"I don't know, Cee, I told you before."

She faced him, staring with unsettling intensity. "Tell me again."

He pressed his fingertips to his temple. "I spoke with it. I think. It was like talking to myself, but more than myself. I...dreamed. I saw it, and I saw everything."

Luca let out his breath. "I don't remember it all. It feels fragile to try. Like my head might split and drive me mad. But I remember enough. It said there would be consequences for interrupting its cycle of rebirth. Maybe this is what it meant."

He touched Puppy's head. Puppy had grown from the size of a fox kit to nearly knee-high, a little four-legged creature with a tail like an otter and round, low-set ears, its fur the same deep, glistening black as the Leviathan's hide. It climbed into his lap, short claws digging into his legs, turned round, and settled, chin to forepaws, staring like he'd been, out to sea. It didn't feel like a god. Its fur was warm, its heartbeat steady. It felt like an animal. A newborn.

"What about you?" he asked Cereza. "Are you all right?"

"You've asked me that a hundred times."

"And I'll ask you a hundred more. You died, Cee. You actually died."

"Come on, let that go."

"I can't. It's my job to be both annoying and incessant, especially around the delicate matter of my sister's death."

She laughed, her round face shining. "And you are that."

Her hand crept to her heart and its sunburst of crystalline scars. To the wound left behind by the curse that had crushed the life from her, that had killed her, that the Leviathan had broken, in its last act, bringing her back from death.

"Honestly, I don't know," Cereza admitted. "There's something different. I don't...understand, not really. I don't even think I know who I am anymore."

"You're Cereza. That won't change."

She flashed him a look. "Won't it? What am I, then? I'm not like you, or like Isabella. What am I? A pretty thing bought and sold in service of Lapide. A cursed girl, and then a dead girl, resurrected by the mercy of powers far greater than myself."

Her hand dropped back to her lap, and she shook her head as if in disgust. "Sometimes I feel like I don't understand anything at all."

Luca took her hand. He had no answers for himself, much less for her. He was exhausted, and heatlagged, and aching. His head, his muscles. His hair was tangled with sweat. He missed Nagi, who'd died defending him against the Estaran Witchhunters on a beach a hundred leagues from here. He wanted scented rooms, and cool wind, and the glint of sunlight off verdigris, the world sinking into twilight, the murmur of Valeris enfolding him sweet as a lullaby. He wanted an end to blue swells and the staring eye of the sun, day after day after day.

He wanted home.

"I need to talk to Isabella," Luca said.

"Isabella? Why Isabella?"

"I don't like being enemies with her," Luca said. "And Hells, I want a bath."

"I want my bed."

"Your...bed?"

"I love my bed." Her gray eyes slid shut. "And I want Mother. I want to show her I'm all right."

"She'll be so glad to see you. After she finishes yelling at us both," Luca said, nudging her shoulder with his own. Cereza giggled, hiding her mouth with her hand.

They fell silent, the two of them, gray eyes fixed on the swells. The tops of the waves were stained with gold and orange, the colors of fire. Real fire, not spellfire, not the ocean turned to a bath of blue light by Estaran bolt cannons. The wind breathed, and the sun sank, and the first stars appeared high overhead.

Cereza leaned her head against Luca's shoulder. She was quiet for awhile, her hand moving to stroke Puppy's back. The creature had fallen asleep, its breathing slow and even.

"What are we going to do?" Cereza asked.

Luca couldn't lie to her. He couldn't say aloud the truth, either- that they might die out here, that this endless ocean might be the last thing they ever saw, that all their efforts might be for nothing. That even so, it was worth it, so see her alive, to be with her all the way to the end.

"Something dramatic," he said at last.

He sensed her smile. "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what? There's a list."

"Coming here. Breaking the curse. Leaving Lapide to save my life."

Luca smiled, ruffling his sister's hair. "I regret a lot of things, Cee. That will never be one of them."

#tales of the great leviathan #grave of the great leviathan #fantasy fiction #original fiction #serial novel #chapter 4

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