Greenguy

Caravan: Resurrection

Well holy shit would he be drowning in the income today. Gybol seemed to be as energetic as there are people and today as like a lightning storm on steroids. His eyes flick up toward order twenty one. The girl was grumpier today, can't she understand that you cannot rush a well done recipe? Especially when you've got to season the stuff. Although in his mind she just didn't quite understand why he preferred just the one cafe. What made Gybol's recipes so good is that it was HIS recipes. His work. You cannot duplicate Gybols. At least he hoped not. That thought gave him a bit of a shutter for his own reasons as he slides over the two requested plates onto the server's hotplate. "Easy Nina. Being louder doesn't mean it's going to be faster. I rush the food and the customers are going to taste that. Might as well make the wait worth it."

No indeed. With the rarity of goods out there, he often took to alchemy during the evening. Funny things about poisons, you can mix them just right where they ONLY target the taste buds, in which on contact? Amplifies the taste of what he's cooking. What could be bland food, or even good food, can easily be made better with seasoning. Self tested of course, if he wounded up suddenly dead, well, better him than the customer when it comes to running a business. Only downside is they'll be tasting it for like, what, a couple hours? He didn't quite see that as a problem.

Caravan: Resurrection

Gybol

Name: Gybol
Age: 24
Appearance: imgur.com/18q6MdU He is slightly glowing blue, rather lean for someone like himself, but pretty damn strong. He's got a shortbow, a warpick, and a few things to help poison the both of them should he need to.
Personality: Inquisitive, Optimistic, Shitty humor but that doesn't stop him.
Height: 5'11"
Race: Human...?
Home Nation: Marrenfell
Magical Capabilities: Physically? Gybol is just your typical average guy. Born with not much to be special about, he often reads up on things in order to get the edge in life. He is by far no scholar though, his interests varied enough to where not a singular thing could really hold a candle to others. Cooking, on the other hand. Get his hands on a campfire and a pan and he'll whip up something that only few can really make sense of, but crave none of the less.

The thing that does make Gybol special is not necessarily his inability to tap into mana, but his ability to cancel out the use of mana altogether. Born as a null, Gybol has taken deep precautions to hide who he is, claiming that his ability to cook and thus somehow make use of goods and material that wouldn't otherwise work as his cover. Being too close to him causes non-divine magic to flat out fail, while being at risk of that closeness causes magic to perform oddly and unexpectedly.

History: For the most part, Gybol has been no one special. Mainly from the efforts of himself and his father to keep him out of attention’s sight. This was difficult, as for whatever reason despite being entirely human in every other way, he was born a slightly glowing blue. If someone or something were to touch his skin or hair, it would turn yellow, or red if there was pressure to the touch. He never understood why he was like that, and often he would think it was because of his mother. Yet Gybol for the most part grew up never knowing his mother, often his questions about the missing parent toward his only one being deflected with jokes or “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Otherwise, he learned how to be a stay at home sort of man. He can clean, he can cook, he can even go out and hunt. Reading and writing was no problem for him, and he even learned a few things about how to use plant-based poisons to better help with his hunting.

Yet when he came of age, his father disappeared. No letter, no warning. Just gone. No traces that he could find either and he assumed that it was likely that the faith found him and called him away. He wanted to look, but the moment he did, it drew attention to him. Having relocated, he chose to make himself a cook in Marrenfell, opening up a small time cafe so that people could dine in the same peace he had. Every now and then he’d go out and snag his own material for his recipes. During one of these trips, he stumbled upon the half buried skeleton of someone who had clearly died a long time ago. Uncovering it, he discovered a necklace. Some sort of crystal. He has no idea if it’s magical or not, the thing wouldn’t work when he had it either way, so he donned it, a small little trinket that life has more treasures than just experiences with other people.

Caravan: Resurrection

Alright. Finally got out of that summon GG roadblock thing.

Gybol

Name: Gybol
Age: 24
Appearance: imgur.com/18q6MdU He is slightly glowing blue, rather lean for someone like himself, but pretty damn strong. He's got a shortbow, a warpick, and a few things to help poison the both of them should he need to.
Personality: Inquisitive, Optimistic, Shitty humor but that doesn't stop him.
Height: 5'11"
Race: Human...?
Home Nation: Marrenfell
Magical Capabilities: Physically? Gybol is just your typical average guy. Born with not much to be special about, he often reads up on things in order to get the edge in life. He is by far no scholar though, his interests varied enough to where not a singular thing could really hold a candle to others. Cooking, on the other hand. Get his hands on a campfire and a pan and he'll whip up something that only few can really make sense of, but crave none of the less.

The thing that does make Gybol special is not necessarily his inability to tap into mana, but his ability to cancel out the use of mana altogether. Born as a null, Gybol has taken deep precautions to hide who he is, claiming that his ability to cook and thus somehow make use of goods and material that wouldn't otherwise work as his cover. Being too close to him causes non-divine magic to flat out fail, while being at risk of that closeness causes magic to perform oddly and unexpectedly.

History: For the most part, Gybol has been no one special. Mainly from the efforts of himself and his father to keep him out of attention’s sight. This was difficult, as for whatever reason despite being entirely human in every other way, he was born a slightly glowing blue. If someone or something were to touch his skin or hair, it would turn yellow, or red if there was pressure to the touch. He never understood why he was like that, and often he would think it was because of his mother. Yet Gybol for the most part grew up never knowing his mother, often his questions about the missing parent toward his only one being deflected with jokes or “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Otherwise, he learned how to be a stay at home sort of man. He can clean, he can cook, he can even go out and hunt. Reading and writing was no problem for him, and he even learned a few things about how to use plant-based poisons to better help with his hunting.

Yet when he came of age, his father disappeared. No letter, no warning. Just gone. No traces that he could find either and he assumed that it was likely that the faith found him and called him away. He wanted to look, but the moment he did, it drew attention to him. Having relocated, he chose to make himself a cook in Marrenfell, opening up a small time cafe so that people could dine in the same peace he had. Every now and then he’d go out and snag his own material for his recipes. During one of these trips, he stumbled upon the half buried skeleton of someone who had clearly died a long time ago. Uncovering it, he discovered a necklace. Some sort of crystal. He has no idea if it’s magical or not, the thing wouldn’t work when he had it either way, so he donned it, a small little trinket that life has more treasures than just experiences with other people.

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

Heedy Haw Haw The Disturbed

_{Where all the wood's burning}

Heedy Haw Haw pauses, noting he saw the same tree for the fiftieth gazillioth millionth time. He looks up at the B-rated horror villain and his compatriot, then immediately pulls out his flask and takes a solid drunk. "Nope. Not okay. I got asshat McGee callin' me an it and threatenin' my life cuz he's got an edge complex sharp enough to kill 'emself with." He gives the three round "ammunition chamber" of the B.O.B. cannon a test spin and looks up at said grumpy-face frilly pants McGee.

"Although if yaz expectin' good 'ol Heedy Haw Haw to waste his time play destroyer of frilly asshats, then fetch yourself a beer cuz I ain't here to do that. Ya'll know anythin' bout the smoke smell goin' about?"

@Necrophage@Hatman1801

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

Heedy Haw Haw the Disturbance, Illuma Forest

_{Force may or may not apply}

Heedy could hear the shitty B-rated music now. Wildly looking around, he keeps his cannon at the ready. It's like the air was thick with the smell of burning wood. Right. Crazy bastards come with crazy stuff right? He continues to walk along, keeping mind of any of those pesky rogueish tree roots that might be in the way as he takes another swig of what ever is in his canteen. Ahhhh....what was he doing again?

He looks around once more, taking in the sight. Is that wood burning? Oh right! Shitty b-rated illusiongrams and their music. He pockets the wonderful bottle of hooch and two hands his Z.O.D. cannon. He could just FEEL the superman coming along as he moves along. Turning around once more, he spots a man with the skin color of...what ever fuck color that one metal shit is. What the fuck is this guy? Mega beard, mega muscles, yet wizard hat and robe. Well, hat is iffy, might be hair. Scraggly as fuck hair. Aaaaand...other guy is..

Wait. Oversized robe, spooky glowing eyes. Looks like...Oh no the shitty b-rated illusiongram bullshit is real!

"OH SHIT!"

(https://youtu.be/D3EVqETK4Gk)

Heedy Haw Haw books it, heading toward the shitty smell, then veering away from it because CLEARLY that's where the shitty b-rated monster would be going.

...however to the other two he's just a midget with an oversized cannon running in circles for a moment.

@necrophage@hatman1801

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

Waiting on hats and man

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

THE FOREST ISN'T BURNING ENOUGH

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

Heedy Haw Haw, Drunk of the Lord
Illuna Forest

Stumbling about the woods in near perfect step, Heedy Haw Haw could smell the worst fart in history. Like, burning tree levels of worst. Fucking hell. He pulls out one of his flask bottles, taking a test swig. Turned out to be a bit of Brandy. Fuckin' nice. He takes a deeper swig as he continues his walk, drinking down to the last drop and just tossing the cheap metal container where ever. It's not like he can't make more. Just a bit of scrap, a bit of booze, and boom. Magic

His senses began to clear up though, nothing like a good dose of booze after a random nap from a hostile tree. Fuckin' trees. Always stealing your foot. Heedy Haw Haw begins mulling through how many terrible, b-rated illusiongrams there was of how some random pretty broad always got caught on a tree branch. Heedy Haw Haw grumbles, then proceeds to catch his foot on said tree root and goes down hard. Slamming into the ground, the S.O.D. on his back presses down heavily into his back and he begins letting out a flurry of curses.

He gets up, whipping out the S.O.D. and aims behind him before looking about wildly and seeing if some random B-rated horror illusion was gonna get him. They're gonna get hyperfire to the damn face that's what. Heedy Haw Haw begins to randomly grin and digs out another flask, still keeping S.O.D. extremely steady even with how drunk he was with a single arm holding it.

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

Ikr. Forest Fires are starting.

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

@Greenguy ...Is Heedy Haw Haw an Ork from Warhammer 40k..?

@Rekaigan

No. He's an alcoholic that somehow made it into more alcohol. (It's a very slight adjustment)