Sir Lurksalot — Roleplayer Guild

Duncan MacAiden

@Kitsune@ZekariVoblis@Zelosse@Lucius Cypher@FamishedPants@liferusher@Seirei No Hai

Addy's death in the slums... Being seared alive... Running through the streets like some kinda jackass hunting down a Japanese schoolgirl in a maid outfit in the middle of the night and instead finding the scene of a brutal massacre perpetrated by the single most mind-bogglingly evil looking guy he'd ever seen in his entire goddamn life... The events of yesterday began to matter less and less to Duncan the closer he got to the table.

The painted man in his head was right. He was hungry.

Seemingly oblivious to the potential brawl forming at the bar, he sat down in dead silence, looking sickly and pale. He could not recall ever feeling this way before as his stomach growled in pure, ravenous hatred at it's own disuse and what felt like every muscle in his body burned with need for nourishment.

And then suddenly there was a heaping plate of bacon and scrambled eggs in front of him, how it got there, he didn't know and it didn't really matter.

His nose twitched. His head slowly tilted down to face the zealously piled offering of food with a series of loud pops from his neck. The pulse from his powerful heart temporarily quickened, traveling through his hands, into the table and rattling a few plates and glasses as his eyes shone with an unnatural, primal need.

And then, it was gone. Straight up Goku-Style as his mouth opened and fork met food with blinding speed, not stopping until he registered it clacking against an empty plate one too many times, at which point he switched his ire to the glass of... some kinda juice next to it, emptying the entire thing into his mouth in one go and then swallowing the whole combined meal down in a singular triumphant gulp.

And with a belch that rattled every window and bit of cutlery in the tavern and a long, satisfied sigh as he leaned back, Duncan was back among the sapient and living. Just in time to notice at least half of what was going on around him.

Like, for instance, the fact that his fork had seemingly melded to his hand, somehow being crushed between his individual fingers like silly-putty.

That was... new.

"What the fu-..."

"How much longer, madam? My Lady is currently distressed not by her belly, but by the people around."

Annnnd, he lost his train of thought.

'Oh, right. Talking wolf.' Duncan remembered, idly peeling the previously-offending bit of cutlery from his hand. 'Forgot that was a thing.'

Still, despite the wolf's terse proclamation, the shy Elf he'd briefly met last night did appear rather famished, now that he was conscious enough to give her a quick look-over. Even if she seemed to be withering a bit under the stares of some other patrons (well, those that weren't gawking wide-eyed at him and his ravenous appetite at this point) who... found hunger offensive?

Casting a glance to the coin-pouch the guards gave him last night, the bald man raised his hand slightly to get the waitress's attention.

"Hey, could I get another order for my friend over there?" He asked, indicating toward Blanc with his thumb.

"Ugh...I swear I need a seltzer. Or coffee."

"And throw his on my bill, too." Duncan added, not missing a beat as Ease sat down.
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