Clotted Cream Cookie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clottedcream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sticksandbones2024-02-16 02:23 pm
clottedcream) wrote in sticksandbones2024-02-16 02:23 pm
freshly baked
Who: Clotted Cream Cookie and YOU!
What: Get your hot fresh cookies here-- no I mean there's a new cookie in town
When: Mid-month
Where: The inn and also the network I guess, there is a network prompt
Warnings: none??
[Clotted Cream Cookie, the last he remembers, had been out on the trail, searching for fragments of Soul Jam with Financier Cookie and the Pearl Legion. His surroundings then had at least been familiar, with cake roll trees, brown sugar paths, and sugar marble bridges. But after a moment of fuzziness and voices he doesn't know, he finds himself opening his eyes to cramped and dark surroundings, metal and the smell of burnt dough, and a woman opening an oven door with a gasp of surprise.
Not at all traumatizing! Not one single bit!
To his credit, he's taken it well. He's also taken not being a Cookie anymore fairly well. As Consul, he is more than experienced in the practice of conceal-don't-feel, so he meets the woman's kindness with his own. He's given a book, an explanation, and sent on his way.
Except now, now that he's not under direct observation, he's just sort of… processing, as he sits on the steps of the inn. Maybe in a little bit of mild horror, distantly and sort of blue-screen-y. His dough is now soft and riddled with scales in places, his frosting seems to be in individual strings, his boots and gloves fit oddly on his hands and feet. The aforementioned articles of clothing have now been removed to show webbed and clawed fingers and… foot-fingers? And fins? On his ears???
The netbook sits beside him on the steps, ignored. On top of it is a single, freshly-baked scone. Also ignored. Talk to this poor, confused-looking merman?]
ii.「on the netbooks」
[This handwriting is new, and very, very neat and tidy. You can practically feel the legalese wafting off of it.]
Greetings. My name is Clotted Cream Cookie, elected Consul of the Crème Republic. I have recently found myself here, and felt that an introduction was in order. It is a pleasure to meet you all, despite the circumstances.
I am admittedly curious as to how this book works. Is it magic, or perhaps magichanical in some way? Or does its function remain a mystery?
What: Get your hot fresh cookies here-- no I mean there's a new cookie in town
When: Mid-month
Where: The inn and also the network I guess, there is a network prompt
Warnings: none??
[Clotted Cream Cookie, the last he remembers, had been out on the trail, searching for fragments of Soul Jam with Financier Cookie and the Pearl Legion. His surroundings then had at least been familiar, with cake roll trees, brown sugar paths, and sugar marble bridges. But after a moment of fuzziness and voices he doesn't know, he finds himself opening his eyes to cramped and dark surroundings, metal and the smell of burnt dough, and a woman opening an oven door with a gasp of surprise.
Not at all traumatizing! Not one single bit!
To his credit, he's taken it well. He's also taken not being a Cookie anymore fairly well. As Consul, he is more than experienced in the practice of conceal-don't-feel, so he meets the woman's kindness with his own. He's given a book, an explanation, and sent on his way.
Except now, now that he's not under direct observation, he's just sort of… processing, as he sits on the steps of the inn. Maybe in a little bit of mild horror, distantly and sort of blue-screen-y. His dough is now soft and riddled with scales in places, his frosting seems to be in individual strings, his boots and gloves fit oddly on his hands and feet. The aforementioned articles of clothing have now been removed to show webbed and clawed fingers and… foot-fingers? And fins? On his ears???
The netbook sits beside him on the steps, ignored. On top of it is a single, freshly-baked scone. Also ignored. Talk to this poor, confused-looking merman?]
ii.「on the netbooks」
[This handwriting is new, and very, very neat and tidy. You can practically feel the legalese wafting off of it.]
Greetings. My name is Clotted Cream Cookie, elected Consul of the Crème Republic. I have recently found myself here, and felt that an introduction was in order. It is a pleasure to meet you all, despite the circumstances.
I am admittedly curious as to how this book works. Is it magic, or perhaps magichanical in some way? Or does its function remain a mystery?
i. pls thank
This is what Gnosis assumes, anyway, because he has no reason to assume that CC is or ever was a cookie, and his features are distinctly fishlike, therefore he is an Aegir, therefore Terran, therefore this conversation should go over very well and will not at all leave anyone confused. After all, Clotted Cream Cookie is not the only person here with animal features; Gnosis has feathers in his hair that are very much part of his head. Where else do animal-people come from other than Terra, etc.]
You're new here, I take it.
[The depressed, confused aura sort of gives it away. Gnosis will sit down next to what he's perceiving as a lost Aegir, unbothered by the snow.]
no subject
Ah. Another Cookie that's gone through... whatever this is?? Surely not rebaking. That can't be what this is... can it?]
Ah. Yes, I'm afraid that I am.
[All too quickly, he shifts back into composed mode. It's as easy as breathing.]
Clotted Cream Cookie, elected Consul of the Crème Republic. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
no subject
Ah, you aren't Aegirian, then? [Gnosis holds his hand out to shake either way. He was there for the Great Cookie Netbook Fight Of Whateveryearitishere. Please don't look at your netbook CC.] Ahem. Gnosis Edelweiss, Chief Technical Officer of Kjerag's Karlan Trade and member of Rhodes Island's technological development department. A pleasure to meet you.
[And then he pulls a business card out of his pocket and hands it over. This, too, is as easy as breathing.]
no subject
I'm afraid not.
[But CC will gladly accept that handshake and return it in kind! His grip is firm, but not too tight. Another clearly practiced thing. He will also accept the business card, peering at it in polite curiosity, because it simply backs up pretty much everything he was just told anyway.]
I assume that you were not a Cookie before you came here, then? Was your appearance also changed?
no subject
No and no. I am a Liberi — a "bird" if we have to resort to colloquial terms. Nothing about my person has changed significantly. It begs the question as to why you would be changed into a more... hm, Terran form, I'll say. What do you last recall doing before your arrival, if I might ask?
no subject
[The card gets tucked away into his pocket, and he tips his head just a bit to look up at the sky.]
It's a little hazy. I recall returning to the Crème Republic after Financier Cookie and I had ended our expedition, but outside of that... I remember fog. Perhaps a fog had rolled in off of the sea...
no subject