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ohmyarceus2021-03-01 07:53 pm
indigo_events) wrote in ohmyarceus2021-03-01 07:53 pm
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Licorice Cookie | Cookie Run Kingdom | OTA
[It doesn't matter if you saw this weirdo earlier in the Rocket base, or if this is the first time you've seen him, because there's little that can help someone ignore the, uh, scene he's making. First of all he's dressed in robes that would fit the Grim Reaper, that is, if the Grim Reaper's scythe was made out of....cardboard, and made very poorly.
Look, he lost his licorice and sugar scythe upon being brought here, but in an exchange he never asked for—nor would ever—he's gotten himself a body made of meat instead of dough. A spindly one too, what with him standing at around 6'4 and being more bone than muscle, he's pretty damn spidery! Though he's lost his dull-grey cookie color, he's garnered himself a tanned pallor, which isn't much better.
As for that scene? Well, his "scythe" is flopped over the crook of his arm, bent and clearly unable to hold up the "blade" with its pathetic snath. In his other arm (braced with the other hand for support), he has a very flummoxed Galarian Zigzagoon that he's apparently (?) wailing at and struggling to keep in his grasp. Meanwhile, a very agitated Noibat is at his heels, looking none too pleased about its trainer's bellyaching, chittering angrily as it does so.]
OH, SCHWARZWÄLDER!! What am I to DO!?
[The Zigzagoon, supposedly this Schwarzwälder, whines with confusion. Clearly he is not the bastion of wisdom that this odd man is seeking. Perhaps you might be? In all his whining, he isn't really paying any mind to those who are around him, or if he might bump them with his poor excuse for a gardening tool, let alone weapon. It's pretty clear from a glance that this guy is entirely wrapped up in his own theatrics.]
no subject
(Hers doesn't smell like much, but everyone else's smells really bad... secretly Kumiho wonders if she also smells really bad but she can't tell because it's her bad smell, but last time she thought about that for too long she wanted to cry. So that's not a subject for today.)
No, it's that this meat is so raw and tender, so sensitive and weak. Running can only be achieved for minutes at a time, if that. Walking seemed better, almost indefinite, but that was a trick. Her feet hurt so much! It isn't fair! Even if she takes off her shoes, they still hurt! And then she has to look at them! Ugly meat things! So many moving parts! So much horrible meat!
Her lament could--and normally would have--gone on, were it not for the sudden wailing from down the road. Her instinctive response to surprise is to jump--which doesn't get her as far as it might have normally, even if she does remember not to somersault this time. She lands on her (sore!) feet and hurries towards the sound, already in a cranky enough mood to tell this guy off for interrupting her agony with his!
If Licorice can take a moment to notice her, he'll see her bright red eyes narrow from the bottom up, white eyebrows furrowing just a bit.
She... is legitimately trying to figure out what to say to the layers of comic disaster before her. He might be a Cookie, but--
This is so far outside of her current mood or her current skillset that she finally gives up, flipping her fan up to cover the lower half of her face in what would normally be purposeful coyness... okay, it isn't not that here, but....]
Ooh? What's the problem? You need a little... help?
[... other than the obvious.]
no subject
However, the sound of that voice which is decided neither his nor the angry complaining of his noibat pulls him back down to Earth
bread, and he's left staring at her a bit owl-eyed after he likewise jolted in surprise. The movement causes the sad scythe to flop—the "blade" taking a moment to bounce before the shoddy scotch tape gives way and it hits the ground with an audible slap.If it were physically possible, he'd frown even more deeply.]
No! I don't need any help! Everything is clearly fine!
[As he snaps at her, he leans down to snatch up mediocrity in cardboard form, just before his noibat kicked it out of his reach, but he also nearly drops his squirming zigzagoon in the process. He's kind of a struggling mess.]
And even if I did need help—which I don't—I don't see what you could do about any of it!
no subject
Oh? Your 'fine' is really so loud and lonesome....? How sad!
[There is no sympathy in her voice as he flounders, any composure or dignity he could have held onto the floor in pathetic pieces. On the contrary, she sounds bright and coy.
However, this does not mean she's feeling sympathetic. But maybe she can make this work in her favour... she could have a little fun and make herself feel better. Whether or not it makes Licorice Cookie feel any better is a separate matter.
She snaps her fan shut with swift grace, picking up the sad cardboard 'scythe' 'blade' in her free hand and standing up in one fluid motion before spreading the fan once more to hide her--was that a smile? or a frown? it was too fast to tell... well, it hides her mouth, anyway.]
Why don't you try me? I'm not just any Cookie! I'm just full of surprises.
[Alternatively, you could at least try to be quieter.... right now, you're making yourself her problem either way.]
no subject
[Is that at her commentary, or her snatching his scythe up before he could? Maybe both! Either way, he looks utterly put off and not the least bit pleased by any of this—until he realizes what she just said.
Cookie.
She's a cookie! His expression melts away to something more profound, addled by hopeful bewilderment as he stares at her with wide eyes for a moment too long. A moment long enough for Schwarzwälder to wiggle free of Licorice's grasp and plop on his butt on the ground. It's a beat of a second before the little guy is zigzag-ZOOMING all over the place.
Licorice doesn't pay him any mind, not when his hands are now free to jab a finger in Kumiho's direction.]
Wait, wait! You are a cookie, too?!
no subject
Of course I'm a Cookie!
Do I look like I was meant to be Meat?
[As soon as she asks that, she looks slightly alarmed--or maybe despairing--before her eyes squint up from the smile she again hides behind her fan. She's still got the piece of his pathetic cardboard 'scythe' in hand, but her eyes are on Licorice Cookie, her stare expectant.]
no subject
[Frisk watches this go on with a vaguely blank expression, their thoughts on...whatever is happening in front of them kept well under lock and key. They do come to decision, however, and walk over to very gently tug on his long, dangling sleeve.]
'Scuse me. D'you need somethin'?
no subject
[It's basically a squawk as he turns to look at Frisk while simultaneously pulling his sleeves away in a frantic jerking motion that's entirely unnecessary. Once he takes in who it is exactly that's speaking to him—a child from the looks of it—his face twists even more with revulsion.]
Ugh, a kid...
no subject
[Their expression doesn't flicker in the slightest, still placid and vaguely interested, but there is a bit of a mischievous glint to their eyes if you're paying attention.]
You're yellin' a lot for someone th' doesn' need any help.
no subject
[He stops to stare a little blankly for a moment. Human? Doesn't this child mean witch? Or, at least, he thinks that's what they all are. There's really no telling when he's had pretty minimal exposure to meat-based people. Do humans not likewise have kids?
Maybe it was his mistake assuming the size difference meant an age difference? Hm.]
And you're stickin' around a lot for someone who should be scramming! What's your problem? You one of those goodie types who want to help cookies in need or something? Pfft!
[As he talks, he waves an arm, nearly dropping Schwarzwälder in the process. This earns them both a whine as the little guy kicks his stumpy legs anxiously, which then prompts Licorice to mutter down at the creature as he adjusts his hold.]
As you can see, I got this under control just fine!
[And then his Noibat kicks Licorice in the shin.]
no subject
And then, to his great surprise, he realizes he… thinks he might recognize this person? With the cloak, and the… what is probably meant to be a scythe. Yes, this man bears quite a resemblance to one of Dark Enchantress Cookie’s followers.
Interesting.
Well, in any case, he’s not causing any trouble at the moment, and he’s in distress… Millennial Tree Cookie supposes there might be a problem if he’s recognized, but that’s something to think about if and when it happens. It’ll be fine. He approaches, followed closely by a somewhat doubtful-looking Mudsdale.]
What might be the problem?
no subject
Even then, he'd probably hate Millennial Tree Cookie unfoundedly. As he does all cookies, save for Dark Enchantress Cookie.
So the perceived malice that comes from him has literally nothing to do with recognition and everything to do with Licorice's own fragile ego and personal insecurities!]
Nothing—I mean, other than you bothering me, that is! I have everything under control, can you—just mind your OWN business, okay!?
no subject
Well, at least Millennial Tree Cookie, though also a bit of an idiot, can tell one kind of malice from another. ...Not that it would necessarily make a huge impact on him if it seemed that Licorice Cookie had recognized him, at least until some kind of direct consequences hit.]
You were clearly distressed before my arrival… [And with that obvious point made, his gaze turns to that honestly sad-looking makeshift scythe, and he tilts his head slightly. After a moment’s consideration, he decides to give that he probably considers encouraging advice.] There is no need for weapons here.