GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN--open, cooking!!
#1

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[sub]badlands ♡ 24 ♡ tags below[/sub]

The weather was beautiful, with only a few clouds in the sky. Mettaton had a table pulled out, set up by a small fire with a grate over it. On the table were his cooking supplies, sparkling clean and ready--the herbs laid out neatly, the meat he'd cut himself prepped. He'd been preparing for this for a while--getting all the ingredients necessary to cook a proper dish wasn't easy, but he was nothing if not creative. A happy tune was coming from the man, as he hummed and chopped rosemary. As he moved about his makeshift kitchen, out in the open, he seemed to be dancing; Metta was quite energetic and as he placed the slab of meat delicately onto the pan, it began to sizzle.

He didn't care for privacy, though he did worry that perhaps someone might try to snag something before he was done. But he didn't want to just eat spit-roasted dogmeat, with no seasoning. Disgusting! Disgusting and bland, which was worse. At least a horribly seasoned meal could be interestingly bad.

"Oh, dear--a bit too much salt, but no worries, I can just--" He carefully pinched some off the top of the meat, before rubbing it in-- "And there we go!" Narrating to himself, he carried on quite contentedly, never pausing to stop talking--as though he were the host of a cooking show.

coded by junkers
HEALTH
Mettaton's in good health--100%
PHYSIQUE
Mettaton is 6'3'' and has a slender build, but with quite muscular legs. He is lean.
WEAPONS
Mettaton carries a long knife, about 9 inches long, in a sheath at his hip.
SKILLS/WEAKNESSES
Mettaton is extremely fast and agile; with a dancer's coordination and flexibility. He can make a tough opponent in a hand-to-hand fight, and unless he's up against a gun, he's a difficult opponent in any scenario unless already weakened. He can be outsmarted, but physically is tough to beat, with his incredible skills at getting away from danger.

He is occasionally a bit of a coward, as well as quite naive and manipulable.





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#2
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the day was perfect for anything and everything, yet dexter found himself following the trail of something absolutely delectable.. or at least he hoped it was. who knew, it could be horse dung seasoned with herbs! nonetheless, the smell was mouthwatering and he had to find the chef.

as the dark-haired man wandered through the territory, he finally encountered on mettaton seasoning some meat. was he surprised? honestly, no. meta was the most talented person he had ever met and he seemed to be good at everything, something that dexter was beyond jealous of.

part of him wanted to come up behind meta and surprise him, but some of him also wanted to see the other at work. he was talking to himself, guiding a walkthrough, something that made dexter want to chuckle. what were they on, some kind of show? the phrase 'kiss the cook' popped into his mind as a third option, but dex finally settled on the first option.

he had been right behind meta and slowly approached from behind, careful not to make a sound, when -- "boo!" the man yelled loudly, right in the other's ear. he grabbed meta's waist for half a second before realizing how awkward that would make their conversation.

[spoiler=info — updated 1/7/17]
[size=8pt]GENERAL:
★ DEXTER MOREAU | DEX | CISGENDER MALE
★ panromantic | pansexual
★ 22 years of age | august 12th | ages one per year, on birthday
★ the badlands | grunt

IMPORTANT FACTS:
★ speaks both french and english and grew up in a multilingual family
★ is slightly obsessed with fireworks and sparklers and the like
★ at night, you can find him looking at the stars, laying on his back

PHYSICAL:
★ HUMAN [8.12 / main] | health: 100%
— a naturally tanned man with boyish features. he has dark, chocolate brown hair and bright, honey brown eyes that darken in winter and lighten in the summer. he is about six feet tall and weighs around 150 lbs, and is slightly on the stocky side. he's grown muscle after years of being beaten up in the badlands but doesn't plan to be defeated again anytime soon. he takes pride in his appearance but doesn't flaunt it; a simple white t-shirt underneath a jacket and a pair of jeans are the main aspects of his daily wear.
— [i]major injuries: none

PERSONALITY:
dexter is, well, easygoing. he takes life with stride, savoring it and trying every single aspect of it. he's extremely loyal, without a doubt and would die for friends and family. he is ambitious and pursues his dreams without a second thought, although this may come back to haunt him in the future. at first, most people label him as the 'flirty player' or the 'lazy pervert' of the badlands, but once people get to know him they realize that that's not true (okay, maybe a little bit true). he's a dreamer inside, one who will look at the stars all night long and not even realize that it's morning until the galaxies above fade into a new day. he may seem completely self-confident, but he's afraid. he feels as if he can't trust anyone in the badlands, and the stars are his only escape. if people really knew him, they'd know that he wasn't either of the above titles; he's an 'easygoing loser'.

RELATIONSHIPS:
★ single
★ NPC x NPC | generation 2
★ No Romantic Interest
★ No Sexual Interest

INTERACTION:
★ easily interacts + cautiously friendly
★ difficulty: 8/10 in battle | + strength & speed | - stamina & agility
★ begins battles, even if attempts to avoid
★ speech in bold #d3ac78
★ attack in bold #78a6d3
★ can powerplay nonviolent actions
★ all IC opinions
[/spoiler]


(02-15-2017, 02:58 AM)aporia. link Wrote:[align=center][div style="background: white;
[div style="bgcolor=; border: none; width: 375px; padding: 0px; line-height: 13px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11.5px; color: #262626; font-family: arial; text-transform:lowercase; margin-top:0px; padding-bottom:20px; margin-top:-2px;"]this is so cute im gonna pee
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#3
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; font-size: 8pt;text-align: justify;color:#363636;line-height:115%"] jamison was not one to do any cooking. hell, he was a scavenger. he was lucky to get something more than a can of fruit or a mouse to rip his teeth through. so to smell the mixed smells of dog meat and spices made his stomach turn in horrible longing. his stomach told him to steal the stuff from right under mettaton's nose, and frankly, for a second he thought about it. but he was in no fit to fight properly. he had a fucking peg leg, for god's sake! the most he could do was blow up stuff, but that was hazard in itself. so he was stuck with wanting the spiced thing, and was also stuck with eating mice and canned beans.

coming over on his boot and peg, the scraggly and worn male would dark his amber eyes to the stake, and for a moment he licked his chops. he really wanted that, so badly- but he was a small worm, and couldn't do shit. "m-mind if i take a lil?" jamie would squeak out, fingers playing with his dirty blonde hair anxiously. might as well give asking a try, right?


PUNCH YOUR LIGHT'S OUT, HIT THE PAVEMENT
THAT'S WHAT I CALL ENTERTAINMENT !
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#4
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A figurine was spotted out the outskirts, dirty blonde hair tumbling down the small of her back to caress her vessel in gentle waves. Narrowed almond spectacles twinkling with curiosity as the scent of herbs and sizzling meat lapped at her attention, stomach twisting and knotting with hunger as she too followed the delectable smell! My God, the huntress was a horrible cook, she could never get all the proportions right and something always ended up too salty. Almost like that personality of hers.

Rosemary filled her nostrils as she came to stand near Jaminson, a soft smile crooking at the angles of her lips, Freckled cheeks dimpled as the fem stood in observation for a moment. Stoney jaws clamped shut before they unlatched. [color=#AF6332]"What do you got cookin' there goodlookin'?"
The militant questioned with a raise of her brow, hand on hip as she eyed the meal with a smirk. "Planning on sharing?" Romanova added in question, a sense of amusement lacing her vocals
.
[spoiler=tags 1/26]
[color=#AF6332]GENERAL — manipulative

Romanova | “Ro” | Salt Queen
She / her | Female | Bisexual | Grunt
21 | January 26th | ENTJ  “The Commander”
[color=#AF6332]INFORMATION — blunt

Manipulates with ease
Kills without regret nor mercy
Carries a machete & multiple knives
Inspired by "The 100"
APPEARANCE — sarcastic
Romanova, a huntress of many talents enveloped within the art of battle as the militant finds war a rather interesting prospect, mainly because she excels as the art of battle and defense and enjoys the calculation that it carries. The grunt is known for her calculation after all, as her analyzation and quick thinking allows for graceful manipulation and finds ease in lying. With a cold heart and ruthless stare, the young adult considers herself rather merciless, however, she can find fairness in the slightest of situations. Despite her harsh exterior and sharp-tongue, Romanova is actually quite kind. Amusement seeping into her dappend soul like sweet cocoa butter and sarcasm enveloping her tongue with nectar- it isn’t too hard to make friends. However, with intimidation, she tends to draw them away, because she does in fact, bite.
PERSONALITY — cold
The female is of Russian and Brazilian decent, allowing for her tanned skin to radiate like the warmth of summer sunshine, her lips plump and her as soft as webbed silk. However, don’t be fooled, she is no ray of sunshine. Romanova’s thick dirty blonde hair cascades down the small of her back, usually held in a rather messy manner. With lightened hair and dark brows framing her features, it allows Roman’s silver blue spectacles to come of brilliance from her feminine almond-eyed stare. Faint freckles outlining the apples of her cheeks and cross bridge of her nose coccoon her skin. Long legs pedestooling the warrior at a height of 5’6 allow for a lean body and defined muscles to make of note. The goddess is usually found wearing darker colors. Tight black pants worn with gun straps about both thighs allow for maneuverability as a wolf pelt drapes over the side of one shoulder for warmth. A black parka worn just about all the time clings to her scarred skin paired with dark leather boots. Warn leather armor clings to her shoulders and chest just as darkened war paint is smeered along her eyes and cheek bones.
RELATIONSHIPS — direct
SINGLE | [ 0 ] crushes
Npc x npc
CONFRONTATION — humble
Extremely hard physically | Medium hard
Can power play peaceful or nonviolent actions
Message for plots
Attack in bold #AF6332


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・゚✧ I SHOULD NEVER HAVE TRUSTED YOU
[b]info   aesthetic the wolves, kappa
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#5
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sel

The smoke from Metta's fire wasn't the only gray trail climbing into a mostly clear sky - smoke from Sel's cigarette was also ascending to the heavens as she strolled towards the growing group. Food was something that Sel paid little mind to, really. She cooked when she had to but typically had John do it, and wasn't much of a picky eater. Taste and smell were closely tied, and with the latter nonexistent the former wasn't particularly keen.

"Looks good." Sheesh, was there anything Mettaton wasn't good at? Her first impression that he'd be a pretty useless fashionista had turned out to be wrong, and while she was happy about it she seldom made permanent judgments based on first impressions. She took a long drag as she came to a halt by Jamison and Romanova, and was tempted to ask the same but remained silent - she could acquire her own food and didn't need to rely on anyone else, though didn't say no to free servings. Besides, they'd already asked.
[spoiler=Tags - Updated 1/25/17]General:
▪ Selena Felix | Sel or Lena depending on situation
▪ Biological female | Identifies as female | She/Her
▪ 23 years | Birthday is 12/18 | Real Time Aging
▪ Grunt of the Badlands

Relationships:
▪ Biromantic | Bisexual | Poly
▪ Single | Flirty
▪ NPC x NPC | No adopted kin
▪ Generally very friendly but not easy to become close with; flirty and defiant; loyalty is hard-earned and easily betrayed

Important Facts:
▪ Trained medic but prefers the war and/or social branches.
▪ Usually untrustworthy, everything is calculated, ambitious as f**k, nefarious motivations.
▪ Opinions, motivations and ambition are Sel's and Sel's alone and are not shared by her roleplayer.

Physical:
★ HUMAN | health: 100%
— She's small, but not too small, about 5'4" or so. Slender and always moving, pretty blue-green eyes with a mischievous glint in them and you know she's gonna get you into trouble. Dark hair, no doubt dark thoughts as well. Red lips curve into a lazy grin that reveals white teeth - they won't stay pearly for much longer, though, as she's often seen smoking.
— major injuries: none
— minor injuries: none

Personality:
— Sel is a very bold, competitive and stubborn person, with a wild side that is shown frequently as well as flirtatious tendencies. She is easily bored and is always on the lookout for adventure, with a spark of curiosity that she hopes will lead to what she seeks: adventure and romance. She seems to not be a very serious person and would rather have fun than be productive, and failing entertainment she can be quite productive and get quite a bit done. She's loud and lacks discipline. While Sel is irresponsible (and oddly bossy) and wild, she is very family-oriented and loves her family dearly. She is usually a cheerful, friendly person but she definitely has a passion for the weird, dark and creepy. She is somewhat vain and egotistical. She has her secrets and one of them is her intelligence and ability to collect information; most dismiss her as a dumb party girl (or something like that) and that's part of her cover, she has her fair share of sins and has to have a way of hiding them, and because she is a good liar and good actress, she succeeds.
— curious; friendly; bold; friendly; intelligent; brave; stubborn; competitive; flirty; sly and cunning; ambitious; wild; irresponsible; bossy; vain; arrogant/egotistical; cruel/sadistic; dark; deceptive

Interaction:
▪ Trained with knives and poisons | Medium physically | Hard mentally
▪ No kill/capture/maim without permission | Will kill/capture/maim with permission
▪ Prefers to fight with poisoned daggers | Relies largely on speed and agility
▪ To attack, [member=183]Sel[/member] and attack in underlined #440349

Links:
— Bio v.1
— Wip[/spoiler]


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DARLING, DARLING, DOESN'T HAVE A PROBLEM
LYING TO HERSELF 'CAUSE HER LIQUOR'S TOP SHELF
IT'S ALARMING HONESTLY HOW CHARMING SHE CAN BE
FOOLING EVERYONE, TELLING HOW SHE'S HAVING FUN
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#6

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[Image: 9d5abbbfdbe5f60875725f019abf9cf4.png]
[sub]badlands ♡ 24 ♡ tags below[/sub]

Mettaton, going between bouts of humming, and narrating animatedly to himself, let Dexter approach unnoticed--until, of course, a sudden shout in his ear, and then what was that on his waist--he had let out a shriek, spinning and staring in absolute horror--and then, seeing Dexter, as his chest heaved and his hips wriggled to dispel of the feeling of those fingers--what on earth?! He could have dropped something! He could have cut himself! He was holding this angry, shocked tirade completely in his mind because his mouth had stopped working and that! Was! A disgrace! He lived for scenes--but right now he was just staring!

Finally, after what seemed like forever, but was probably only a couple seconds, Mettaton's muscles relaxed, and he closed his mouth, and he frowned. "Boo." It was the least emotive thing Metta had said to anyone, ever, and he hoped it got across how completely not funny that was.


As he began to realize, though, Dexter was not the only one nearby. In fact, a few familiar faces abounded. First it was the worm, and Mettaton, glancing up and down the lanky boy's frame, felt a bit contemptuous, but also didn't really feel good about denying him. Jamison had his place in the group, after all, and it would honestly be a shame if he were to starve. With a smirk, he nodded at him, but then sharpened his gaze. "It's not done yet--" And then the girl he didn't know well echoed the worm's question--but with a decidedly sweet addition.
"Aw, honey, I couldn't say no to that face!" He beamed, clearly flattered. "It's a steak--seasoned with rosemary, with salt and pepper, and some mustard--" He paused, glancing at them all--and there was Selena! Sel. "Ah, thank you, darling--" He loved this, but now he was only a bit worried that there wouldn't be enough to go around. Ah, well, he didn't need any of this, after all. "Of course--it's just about done, so, if you're sick of bloodshot, almost raw, bland dogmeat--" He held up a knife, grinning as it glinted in the sunlight.


coded by junkers
HEALTH
Mettaton's in good health--100%
PHYSIQUE
Mettaton is 6'3'' and has a slender build, but with quite muscular legs. He is lean.
WEAPONS
Mettaton carries a long knife, about 9 inches long, in a sheath at his hip.
SKILLS/WEAKNESSES
Mettaton is extremely fast and agile; with a dancer's coordination and flexibility. He can make a tough opponent in a hand-to-hand fight, and unless he's up against a gun, he's a difficult opponent in any scenario unless already weakened. He can be outsmarted, but physically is tough to beat, with his incredible skills at getting away from danger.

He is occasionally a bit of a coward, as well as quite naive and manipulable.



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