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Okay that looks pretty damning but can we please wait until I get my back story in here and all?
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Nov 6, 2022 10:04
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| # ? Jun 2, 2024 13:36 |
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I'm all in favor of voting our evil lawyer and of giving us more time to cook. He's a -2 for now and we still have 1 day and 17 hours to go.
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Nov 6, 2022 10:08
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I know it looks like it's only been three hours but I just FELL BACK so ##Feed homunculus anise seeds
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Nov 6, 2022 10:34
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Bifauxnen posted:Ooh snap What does this mean other than Voodoo is caught scum?
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Nov 6, 2022 10:40
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Hyper Crab Tank posted:Want to know something even more damning? I had a spice blend yesterday that gave me passive bulletproof shot (it's mace + ginger + salt if you want to cook it up for yourself), and I don't today. So I was definitely the nightkill target. Ok so you didn't use the befuddle mix at all last night and this some different blend of spices?
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Nov 6, 2022 11:02
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Maerlyn posted:What does this mean other than Voodoo is caught scum? We wanted to wait a bit on claiming this result to see what Voodoo would post and to see if he might jump onto pushing Green Wing if Bid went after her.
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Nov 6, 2022 11:06
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##soothe homunculus
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Nov 6, 2022 11:21
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In retrospect I shouldn't have mentioned the befuddle at all in the masonry, because really only scum have a good use for it. It's why I haven't talked about it - I only told Maerlyn because I felt I could trust her but even so I kind of kept forgetting that masonry was going to rotate, even five seconds after saying it myself. Anyway, the blend I used last night should not have interfered with, altered or hidden anyone's action results at all, as far as I know.
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Nov 6, 2022 11:32
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Rhymes With Clue posted:oh yeah Your homunculus's long tongue snakes out and wraps around the twig of thyme, expertly removing the leaves with a rapid *schloorrp*, leaving a bare branch behind.
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Nov 6, 2022 13:11
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Rhymes With Clue posted:##play with homunculus Nothing Happens. Rhymes With Clue posted:##soothe homunculus Nothing Happens. Rhymes With Clue posted:##lecture homunculus that combo ought to put him to sleep! Nothing Happens.
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Nov 6, 2022 13:12
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Illusionis posted:##play with homunculus You grab a wooden spoon off of the counter and declare fetch as you throw it as hard as you can. Your homunculus looks at you, confused, then at the spoon whirling through the air, then at you again, before bolting off with a speed you didn't expect from a form made of cream cheese. It catches the spoon in it's mouth when it is about 6 feet off of the ground. And lazily bounds back to you, the end of the spoon is covered in cream cheese, but it looks like it wants you to throw it again. You repeat this game for about 20 minutes before you both get bored of it. Your homunculus curls up in front of the oven, gnawing on the spoon as it drifts off to sleep.
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Nov 6, 2022 13:16
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Rhymes With Clue posted:I know it looks like it's only been three hours but I just FELL BACK so The homunculus walks over the pile of anise seeds you placed for them. You think it was a signal that he didn't like it, but when you move to clean up the spices on the floor, there are none there.
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Nov 6, 2022 13:17
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Illusionis posted:##soothe homunculus You go to soothe your homunculus, but he is still tuckered out from playing fetch. Their little legs are moving in their sleep, must be dreaming about running. Or world domination. One or the other.
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Nov 6, 2022 13:18
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let's have some support for the crab cause should we? Boil papa. Take pic. Attempt to mash papa. Realize you severely undercooked it, boil it again to acceptable levels.  Mix papa with the aji amarillo paste, salt and pepper, a sprinkle of lemon juice (had no limes) and add a dash of olive oil to soften it and make it easier to work with. Try it, realize the aji is unexpectedly hot. It's odd to not know how stuff tastes!  Suspiciously eyeball a 1€ can of crab that says it has shell fragments on.  Looks like crab, indeed. Smells good. Add mayonnaise and a dash of Shichimi spices. Mix. Keep adding mayo until it's relatively consistent. Forget to add salt at any point.  I have no circular moulds, so this is gonna be a Causa Bowl. A chipped bowl at that, because I didn't realize it. Part of the potato goes into bowl, crab goes over potato. Open up avocado, feel slightly cheated by vendor.  Slice avocado with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, layer over crab.  Finish with another layer of potato. Snap pic, preeminently featuring the chip on the bowl.  It's on the fridge now, will be lunch later. Looks promising!
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Nov 6, 2022 14:36
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So let me tell you about how I learned this recipe. It all started back in the States on a big road trip. I was still finishing my art degree, and on a whim I wanted to see more of the country and take photos of whatever I found. I’d rented an SUV to carry all my gear and try some off-roading. It was great until I tried driving through a desert, got lost, hit a big rock, and couldn’t get the car started again. I had no phone reception at all. Nobody had a clue where I was, since I’m an internet hermit and hadn’t bothered posting anything about the trip yet. I stayed with the car for a day, but my big water bottle ran out so I was getting thirsty. I thought I’d figured out the way back now that I’d paid attention to the sun, so I decided to just start walking. It should only be about 30 miles or so till I got back to the town where I'd fueled up. I thought about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but it was so pitch dark out there in the middle of nowhere, I was scared I’d trip and break a leg or something. So I put on a bunch of sunscreen, took my pocket knife in case I found a cactus that could have water in it, and even filled my water bottle back up with windshield wiper fluid in case I got that desperate. I set off in the direction I thought was right and started walking. I walked for the entire day. By the end of the day I was really thirsty. I’d been sweating all day, and my lips were starting to crack. I’d reapplied the sunblock twice, but I still felt sunburned. That windshield wiper fluid sloshing around in that bottle was really getting tempting. I knew that fluid was mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but I also thought I’d read somewhere that they added some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. I wondered what that poison was, or if that was even real. It might have just been something they made up in the story, cause it ended up all being a stupid joke in the end. I wondered, even if there was anything poisonous in there, if it would really be worse than dying of thirst. I pushed on, trying to get back to the gas station before dark. By the end of the day, I started getting worried. I’d been walking for over ten hours according to my watch. That meant it was nearly deadline in my Mafia game and everyone was gonna wonder why I was lurking so hard. Also, if my estimate had been right, I should’ve been close to the gas station. But I didn’t recognise anything. I’d had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and I didn’t remember driving through that in the SUV. I figured that maybe my direction got off just a little, and that dry creek bed was just off to one side of my path. I figured I had to be close, and that after dark I’d start seeing lights from the little town over one of those hills. As it got dark, I started stumbling over small rocks and things, so I found a spot to sit down to wait for full dark and watch for the town lights. Full dark came before I even knew it. I must have dozed of a bit. I stood back up and turned all the way around. But I saw nothing but stars. I woke up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. My eyes were gummy and my mouth and nose felt full of sand. I was so thirsty I couldn’t even swallow. I barely got any sleep cause it was so cold. I’d forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert, I hadn’t noticed the night before cause I’d been in the car. I remembered the Rule of Threes – three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food, then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But being here in the desert wasn't the best situation. Unless I found water, I thought, this could be my last day. I rinsed out my mouth with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. I waited for a while after spitting that little bit out to see if my mouth went numb, or if I felt dizzy or something. I figured I’d go a little farther, and if I still didn’t find water, I’d try drinking some of the fluid. Then I had to face my next, harder question. Which way from here? Should I keep walking the same way as yesterday, or try a new direction? Looking at the hills and dunes around me, I thought I knew the direction I was heading before. Just going by a feeling, I pointed myself a little to the left of that, and started walking again. As I walked, the day started heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon became an oven again. I was sweating a little at first, but then stopped. That really got me worried. When you stop sweating, you’re in trouble. It’s usually right before you get heat stroke. I decided it was time to try the windshield wiper fluid. I couldn’t wait any longer. If I passed out at this point, I’d be dead. I stopped in the shade of a large rock, took the bottle out, opened it, and took a mouthful. I slowly swallowed it, making it last as long as I could. It felt so good in my dry and cracked throat that I didn't even care about the nasty taste. Slowly, I drank half the bottle. I figured as long as I’m drinking it, I might as well drink enough to make some difference and keep myself from passing out. If it killed me, it killed me. If I didn't drink it, I’d die anyway. I kept walking. I walked in the hot, dry, windless desert. Sand, rocks, hills, dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried bush. No sign of water. After a while, I began to stagger. I wasn’t sure if it was fatigue, heat stroke finally catching me, or maybe I was wrong and the denaturing of the wiper fluid was worse than I thought. I tried to steady myself and keep going. After more walking, I came to a large stretch of sand. This was good! I knew I passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV. I remembered doing donuts in it. But I was getting woozy enough and tired enough that I wasn’t sure what I remembered anymore. I headed off, trying to get to the other side, hoping it got me closer to the town. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been walking anymore. Was it still morning? It had to be afternoon; it seemed like it had been too long since I started out. I walked through the sand. After a while, I came to a big dune. This was bad. I didn’t remember any dunes from when I was driving. All the same, I had no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now. I figured I’d get to the top of the dune and see if I could see anything up there that could help me find the town. I kept going up the dune. Halfway up, I slipped in the bad footing of the sand for the second or third time, and fell to my knees. I didn't feel like getting back up, since I’d just fall down again. I kept going up the dune on my hands and knees. If my throat weren't so dry, I would’ve laughed. I’d finally gotten to the hackneyed image of a someone lost in the desert, crawling through the sand on hands and knees. It would be the perfect image, I imagined, if only my clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the desert in the cartoons always had ragged clothes. I imagined somebody would probably find my dessicated corpse half buried in the sand years later and my clothes would still be in fine shape - shake the sand out, give them a good wash, and they'd be wearable again. I wished my throat were wet enough to laugh. I coughed a little instead, and it hurt. I finally made it to the top of the sand dune. Now that I was at the top, I struggled a little, but managed to stand up and look around. All I could see was sand. Sand and more sand. Ahead of me, more dunes, more sand. This wasn't where I drove the SUV. This was Hell. I didn't know what to do. I decided to drink the rest of the wiper fluid while figuring it out. As I took out the bottle I saw something. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, I saw something strange. It was a flat area, in the sand. I tried to look closer. The area seemed circular, and dark: darker than the sand. There seemed to be something in the middle of it, but I couldn't tell what it was from that far away. I’d have to go down there and look. I started stumbling down the dune. After a few steps, I was in trouble; I wasn’t able to keep my balance. I fell and started to roll down the dune. I closed my eyes and mouth, covered my face with my hands, and waited to stop rolling. After a minute or two, I found enough energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of my face and clothes. When I cleared my eyes enough, I looked around to make sure that the dark spot in the sand was still there and I hadn't just imagined it. Seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand still there, I crawled towards it. I didn’t seem to have the energy to get up and walk anymore. I must have been in the final stages of dehydration. If this place in the sand didn’t have water, I figured I’d never make it anywhere else. This was my last chance. I got closer and closer, but still couldn't see what was in the middle of the dark area. It was hard to focus, and lifting my head up took so much effort that I gave up trying. I just kept crawling. Finally, I reached the area I'd seen from the dune. It took me a minute before I realised I was no longer on sand – I was on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of pattern cut into it. I was too tired to stand up and try to see what the pattern was, so I just kept crawling towards the center. My mind, detached in a strange way, noticed that either my hands and knees were so burnt by the sand that they no longer felt pain, or that this dark stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun overhead, didn't seem to be hot. It almost felt cool. I considered lying down on the nice cool surface. Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. I thought I had to be hallucinating, that I was probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon Scott Ludlam would appear out of thin air carrying a pitcher of ice water to offer me a drink, then I’d know I was gone. But if I was going to die there in the middle of this hallucination, I at least wanted to see what was in the center before I went. I kept crawling. It took me a few times to register that I was hearing words. It sounded like someone said, "Greetings, traveler. You do not look well. Do you hear me?" I stopped crawling. I tried to sit up on the stone and focus my eyes. Still blurry. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands and tried again. It was better that time, I could see. I was sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark expanse of stone. Directly next to me, about three feet away, was a white post or pole about two inches in diameter and sticking about four or five feet out of the stone, at an angle. And wrapped around that white rod was a fifteen foot long desert diamondback rattlesnake, with a hovering tail and rattle, looking directly at me. I stared at the snake in shock. I didn't have the energy to get up and run away. This was it, I thought: my final resting place. No matter what, I wasn’t going to be able to move from that spot. Well, at least dying from snakebite would be quicker than dying of thirst. I lifted one hand and flicked it in the snake's direction, feebly. The snake watched my hand for a moment, then went back to watching me, looking into my eyes. Maybe the snake had no interest in biting me. It hadn't rattled yet. Maybe I wasn't going to die of snake bite after all. I then remembered that I'd thought I heard a voice. I was still very woozy; I felt like I might pass out soon. The sun still beat down on me even though I was now on cool stone. I still didn't have anything to drink. Maybe I had actually heard a voice. The stone and that post didn't look natural. Someone must have built it. Maybe they were still nearby. Maybe the snake was their pet, and that's why it wasn't biting. I tried to say, "Hello," but all that came out was a coughing, wheezing sound. There was no way I’d be able to talk without something to drink. I shakily pulled out my water bottle, almost falling on my back in the process. I didn't have much time left before I passed out. I got the bottle open, managed to get the bottle to my lips, and poured some of the fluid into my mouth. I coughed a little. My throat felt better. Maybe I could finally talk. Ignoring the snake, I turned to look around, hoping to spot the owner of this place, and croaked out, "Hello? Is there anyone here?" I heard, from the side, "Greetings. What is it you want?" I turned my head back towards the snake. That's where the sound seemed to come from. The only thing I could think of was there must be a speaker hidden under the snake, or maybe built into that post. I decided to try asking for help. "Please," I croaked again, suddenly feeling dizzy, "I'd love to not be thirsty anymore. I've been without water for a long time. Can you help me?" I was shocked to see the snake rear back, open its mouth, and speak. I heard it say, "Very well. Coming up." A piercing pain shot through my shoulder. Suddenly I was awake. I sat up and grabbed my shoulder, wincing at the throbbing pain. Momentarily disoriented, I looked around, and then I remembered: the crawl across the sand, the dark area of stone, the snake. I saw the snake, still wrapped around the tilted white post, still looking at me. I reached up and felt my shoulder, where it hurt. It felt slightly wet. I pulled my fingers away and looked at them - blood. I felt my shoulder again - it felt like my shirt had two holes in it - two puncture holes. I had been bitten. By the snake. "It'll feel better in a minute." I looked up – it was the snake talking. I hadn't dreamed it. Suddenly I noticed – I wasn’t dizzy anymore. And more importantly, I wasn’t thirsty anymore - at all! "Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you biting me in the afterlife?" "Sorry about that, but I had to bite you," said the snake. "That's the way I work. It all comes through the bite. Think of it as natural medicine." "You bit me to help me? Why aren't I thirsty anymore? I haven't had a drink for over two days. Well, except for the windshield wiper fluid... hold it, how in the world does a snake talk? Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney animation?" "No," said the snake, "I'm real. As real as you or anyone is, anyway. I didn't give you a drink. I bit you. That's how it works, it's what I do. I bite. Plus I don't have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water just sitting around here." I sat stunned for a minute. Here I was, sitting in the middle of the desert on some strange stone that should be hot but wasn't, talking to a snake that could talk back and had just bitten me. And I felt better. Not great - I was still starving and exhausted, but much better - I was no longer thirsty. I had started to sweat again. I felt hot, in that sun, but it was starting to get lower in the sky, and the cool stone beneath me was a relief. "I might suggest that we take care of that methanol you now have in your system with the next request," continued the snake. "I can guess why you drank it, but I'm not sure how much you drank, or how much methanol was left in the wiper fluid. That stuff is nasty. It'll make you go blind in a day or two, if you drank enough of it." "Ummm, n-next request?" I asked. I put my hand back on my hurting shoulder and backed away from the snake a little. "That's the way it works. If you like, that is," explained the snake. "You get three requests. Call them wishes, if you wish." The snake grinned at his own joke. "But there are rules," the snake continued. "The first request is free. The second requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding of responsibility." The snake looked at me seriously. "By the way," the snake said, "my name is Nathan. Old Nathan, Samuel used to call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Bound used to just call me 'Snake'. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn't stand for it. He said that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big into names. You can call me Nate, if you wish." Again, the snake grinned. "Umm, my name is Bifauxnen," I said, trying to absorb all of this. "Or just Bif. Can I ask you a question?" I said. "What happened to the venom...umm, in your bite. Why aren't I dying now? How did you do that? What do you mean that's how you work?" "That's more than one question," grinned Nate. "But I'll try to answer all of them. First, yes, you can ask me a question. Second, the venom is in you. It changed you. You now no longer need to drink. That's what you asked for. Or, well, technically, you asked to not be thirsty any more - but 'any more' is such a vague term. I decided to make it permanent - now, as long as you live, you shouldn't need to drink much at all. Your body will conserve water very efficiently. You should be able to get enough just from the food you eat - much like a creature of the desert. You've been changed." "For the third question," Nate continued, "you are still dying. Besides the effects of that methanol in your system, you're human - and mortal. In your current state, I give you no more than about another 50 years. Assuming you get out of this desert, alive, that is." Nate seemed vastly amused at his own humor. "As for the fourth question," Nate said, looking more serious as far as I could tell, "first you have to agree to make a second request and become bound by the secrecy, or I can't tell you." "Wait," I joked, "isn't this where you say you could tell me, but you'd have to kill me?" "I thought that was implied." Nate continued to look serious. "Ummm...yeah. So, what is this 'Bound by Secrecy' stuff?" "With the fulfillment of your next request, you will be bound to say nothing about me, this place, or any of the information I will tell you after that, when you decide to go back out to your kind," explained Nate. "You won't be allowed to talk about me, write about me, use sign language, charades, or even act in a way that will lead someone to guess correctly about me. You'll be bound to secrecy. Unless of course, you’re retelling the story for your internet friends, and it is extremely funny." Nate said the last part with utter seriousness. "As I’m guessing that a day will come when it would be a perfect meme to fit the moment, and you’ll make it all sound like a tall tale anyway, so no one in real life would notice." I actually had been thinking at just that moment, that it would be hard to never tell any of my internet friends. "Ummm, hey, Nate? How did you know that? Are you omniscient or something?" "Well, Bif," said Nate, "I can't tell you that, unless you make the second request." "Umm, ok," I said, "what is this about a second request? What can I ask for? Are you allowed to tell me that?" "Sure!" said Nate, brightening. "You're allowed to ask for changes. Changes to yourself. They're like wishes, but they can only affect you. Oh, and before you ask, I can't give you immortality. Or omniscience. Or omnipresence, for that matter. Though I might be able to make you gaseous and yet remain alive, and then you could spread through the atmosphere and sort of be omnipresent. But what good would that be - you still wouldn't be omniscient and thus still could only focus on one thing at a time. Not very useful, at least in my opinion." Nate stopped when he realized that I was staring at him. "Well, anyway," continued Nate, "I'd suggest giving you permanent good health. It would negate the methanol in your system, you'd be immune to most poisons and diseases, and you'd tend to live a very long time, barring accident, of course. You'll even have a tendency to recover from accidents well. It always seemed like a good request to me." "That all sounds pretty good," I said. "But it has to be a request about a change to me? I can't ask to be rich, right? Because that's not really a change to me?" "Right," nodded Nate. "Could I ask to be a genius and permanently healthy?" I asked, hopefully. "That takes two requests." "Yeah, I figured," I said. "But I could ask to be a genius? I could become the smartest scientist in the world? Or the best athlete?" "Well, I could make you very smart," admitted Nate, "but that wouldn't necessarily make you the best scientist in the world. Or, I could make you very athletic, but it wouldn't necessarily make you the best athlete either. You've heard the saying that 99% of genius is hard work? Well, there's some truth to that. I can give you the talent, but I can't make you work hard. It all depends on what you decide to do with it." "Hmmm," I said. "Ok, I think I understand. And I get a third request, after this one?" "Maybe," said Nate, "it depends on what you decide then. There are more rules for the third request that I can only tell you about after the second request." "Well, since I'd rather not be blind in a day or two, and permanent health sounds good, consider that my second request. Officially. Do I need to sign in blood or something?" "No," said Nate. "Just hold out your hand." Nate grinned. "Or whatever part you want me to bite. I have to bite you again. Like I said, that's how it works - the venom, you know," Nate said apologetically. I winced and felt my shoulder, where the last bite was. But it didn't hurt any more. Just like Nate had said. That made me feel better about the biting business. But still, standing still while a fifteen foot snake sunk its fangs into me was tough. I stood up and tried to decide where I wanted to get bitten. "Hey, Bif" Nate suddenly said, looking past me towards the dunes behind him, "is that someone else coming up over there?" I spun around and looked. Who else could be out here in the middle of nowhere? And did they bring food? But there was nobody over there. I let out a bellow as I felt two fangs sink into my rear end, through my jeans. I sat down carefully, favoring my more tender buttock. "I would have decided, eventually, Nate. I was just thinking about it. You didn't have to hoodwink me like that." "I've been doing this a long time, Bif," said Nate, confidently. "You humans have a hard time sitting still and letting a snake bite you - especially one my size. And admit it - it's only been a couple of minutes and it already doesn't hurt any more, does it? That's because of the health benefit with this one. I told you that you'd heal quickly now." "Yeah, well, still," I said, "it's the principle of the thing. Nobody likes being bitten in the butt!" "More meat in the typical human butt," replied Nate. "And less chance you accidentally kick me or move at the last second." "Yeah, right. So, tell me all of these wonderful secrets that I now qualify to hear." "Ok," said Nate. "Do you want to ask questions first, or do you want me to just start talking?" "Just talk," I said. "I'll sit here and try to not think about food." "We could go try to rustle up some food for you first, if you like," answered Nate. "Hey! You didn't tell me you had food around here, Nate!" I jumped up. "What do we have?" I was almost shouting with excitement. My stomach had been growling for hours. "I was thinking I could flush something out of its hole and bite it for you, and you could skin it and eat it. Assuming you have a knife, that is," replied Nate. "Ugh," I said, sitting back down. "I'll pass. I can last a little longer before I get desperate enough to eat desert rat, or whatever else it is you find out here. And there's nothing to burn - I'd have to eat it raw. No thanks. Just talk." "Ok," replied Nate, still grinning. "But I'd better hurry, before you start looking at me as food.” Nate looked around for a second, then continued. "You, Bif, are sitting in the middle of the Garden of Eden." I looked around at the sand and dunes and then looked back at Nate sceptically. "Well, that's the best I can figure it, anyway," said Nate. "Stand up and look at the symbol on the rock here." Nate gestured around the dark stone we were sitting on with his nose. Carved into the stone was a representation of a large tree. The pole that Nate wrapped around was coming out of the trunk of the tree, right below where the main branches left the trunk to reach out across the stone. It was very well done - it looked more like a tree had been reduced to almost two dimensions and embedded in the stone than it did like a carving. I walked around and looked at the details in the fading light of the setting sun. Then that reminded me – the sun was setting! That meant I was going to have to spend another night out there! I looked out across the desert for a bit, then came back and stood next to Nate. "In all the excitement, I almost forgot, Nate,” I said. "Which way is it back to town? And how far?" "It's about 30 miles that way." Nate pointed, with the rattle on his tail this time. "You should be able to do it in about half a day with your improved endurance, if you head out early tomorrow." I looked out the way the snake had pointed, then sat back down. It was getting dark. And besides, Nate was just about to get to the interesting stuff. "So, Garden of Eden?" "As best as I and Samuel could figure it anyway," said Nate. "He figured that the story just got a little mixed up. You know, snake, in a 'tree', offering 'temptations', making bargains. That kind stuff. But he could never quite figure out how the Hebrews found out about this spot from across the ocean. He worried about that for a while." "How long have you been here, Nate?" "No idea, really," replied Nate. "A long time. It never occurred to me to count years, until recently, and by then, of course, it was too late. But I do remember when this whole place was green, so I figure it's been thousands of years, at least." "So, are you the snake that tempted Eve?" I asked. "Beats me," said Nate. "Maybe. I can't remember if the first one of your kind that I talked to was female or not, and I never got a name, but it could have been. I suppose she could have considered my offers a 'temptation', though I've rarely had refusals." "How did you get here then? And why is that white pole stuck out of the stone there?" I asked. "Dad left me here. Or, I assume it was my dad. It was another snake - much bigger than I was back then. One day, he brought me to this stone, told me about it, and asked me to do something for him. I talked it over with him for a while, then agreed. I've been here ever since." "What is this place?" I said. "And what did he ask you to do?" "Well, you see this pole here, sticking out of the stone?" Nate loosened his coils and showed me where it descended into the stone. The pole was tilted at about a 45 degree angle and seemed to enter the stone in an eighteen inch slot. The slot was dark and the pole went down into it as far as I could see in the dim light. I reached out to touch the pole, but Nate was suddenly there in the way. "You can't touch that yet, Bif," said Nate. "Why not?" I asked. "I haven't explained it to you yet," replied Nate. "Well, it kinda looks like a lever or something," I said. "You'd push it that way, and it would move in the slot." "Yep, that's what it is," replied Nate. "What does it do?" I asked. "End the world?" "Oh, no," said Nate. "Nothing that drastic. It just ends humanity. I call it 'The Lever of Doom'." For the last few words Nate had used a deeper, ringing voice. He tried to look serious for a few seconds, and then gave up and grinned. I was initially startled, but when Nate grinned I laughed. "Ha! You almost had me fooled for a second there. What does it really do?" "Oh, it really ends humanity, like I said," smirked Nate. "I just thought the voice I used was funny, didn't you?" "A lever to end humanity?" I asked. "Well that’s a fun idea, but how could there actually be a lever like that?" "Well," replied Nate, "I get the idea that humanity was an experiment. Or maybe the Big Guy thought, if humanity started going really bad, there should be a way to end it. I'm not really sure. All I know are the rules, and the guesses that Samuel and I had about why it's here. I didn't think to ask back when I started here." "Rules? What rules?" I asked. "The rules are that I can't tell anybody about it or let them touch it unless they agree to be bound to secrecy by a bite. And that only one human can be bound in that way at a time. That's it." explained Nate. "You mean that I could pull the lever now? You'd let me end humanity?" "Yep," replied Nate, "if you want to." Nate looked at me carefully. "Do you want to, Bif?" "Umm, no." I said, stepping a little further back from the lever. "I mean, there’s a lot of humans that suck and all, but it would kill me too, wouldn't it?" "Yep," replied Nate, "you’re human too." "Has anyone ever seriously considered it?" I asked. "Any of those bound to secrecy, that is?" "Well, of course, I think they've all seriously considered it at one time or another. Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down and think, or so I'm told. Samuel considered it several times. He'd often get disgusted with humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while. But he never pulled it. Or you wouldn't be here." Nate grinned some more. I sat down, well back from the lever. After a bit, I said, "So this makes me the Judge of humanity? I get to decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?" "That seems to be it," agreed Nate. "What kind of criteria do I use to decide?" I asked. "How do I make this decision? Am I supposed to decide if they're good? Or too many of them are bad? Or that they're going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules for that?" "Nope," replied Nate. "You pretty much just have to decide on your own. It's up to you, however you want to decide it." "But what if I get mad at someone? What if someone makes a really bad case on me in Mafia? Or binus eats a burrito instead of voting at deadline? Couldn't I make a mistake? How do I know that I won't screw up?" I protested. "You don't. You just have to try your best, Bif." I sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was rapidly getting dark. Finally, I turned around and looked at the snake. "Nate, was Samuel the one bound to this before me?" "Yep," replied Nate. "He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot. Taught me to read and brought me books. I still have a good pile of them buried in the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a few months ago." "Sounds like a good guy," I agreed. "How did he handle this, when you first told him. What did he do?" "Well," said Nate, "he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, and then asked me some questions, much like you're doing." "What did he ask you, if you're allowed to tell me?" I asked. "He asked me about the third request," replied Nate. "Aha!" It was my turn to grin. "And what did you tell him?" "I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third request you have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the point that you really think that humanity should be ended, that you'll come here and end it. You won't avoid it, and you won't wimp out." Nate looked serious again. "And you'll be bound to do it too." "Hmmm." I looked back out into the darkness for a while. "Nate," I finally asked, quietly. "What did Samuel ask for with his third request?" "Wisdom, Bif. He asked for wisdom. As much as I could give him." "Ok," I said, standing up and facing away from Nate, "give it to me.” "Give you what, Bif?" "Give me that wisdom. The same stuff that Samuel asked for. If it helped him, maybe it'll help me too." I turned my head to look back over my shoulder at Nate. "It did help him, right?" "He said it did," replied Nate. "But he seemed a little quieter afterward. Like he had a lot to think about." "Well, yeah, I can see that," I said. "So, give it to me." "You remember that you'll be bound to destroy humanity if it ever looks like it needs it, right Bif?" asked Nate, seeming to stall for some reason. "Yeah, yeah, I got that," I replied. “So make with the wisdom, I wanna have so much wisdom I can even figure out when Hal is scum.” "But Bif," continued Nate, sounding like his voice was coming from a different direction, "don’t you realise with all that wisdom, you’d stop wasting time on playing Mafia at all?" "Yeah, yeah...Hey, wait a minute!" I yelled, opening my eyes, straightening up and turning around. But I didn't see Nate where I was expecting. I heard Nate call out, "Just Kidding!" right before I felt the now familiar piercing pain, this time in the other buttock. I sat on the edge of the dark stone, my feet extending out into the sand. I stared out into the darkness, listening to the wind stir the sand, occasionally rubbing my butt where I'd been recently bitten. Nate had left for a little while, had come back with a desert-rodent-shaped bulge somewhere in his middle, and was now wrapped back around the lever. I sat there thinking, occasionally asking Nate a question. "Nate, do accidents count?" "What do you mean?" "You know, accidents. If I accidentally fall on the lever, without meaning to, does that still wipe out humanity?" "I'm pretty sure it does. I'd suggest you be careful about that if you start feeling wobbly," said Nate with some amusement. A little later I asked, "Does it have to be me that pulls the lever?" "That's the rule, Bif. Nobody else can pull it," answered Nate. "No, I mean, does it have to be my hand? Could I pull the lever with a rope tied around it? Push it with a stick? Throw a rock?" "Yes, those should work," replied Nate. "Though I'm not sure how complicated you could get. Samuel thought about trying to build some kind of remote for it once, but gave up. Everything he'd build would be gone by the next sunrise, if it was touching the stone, or over it. I told him that in the past others that had been bound had tried to bury the lever so they wouldn't be tempted to pull it, but every time the stones or sand or whatever had disappeared." "Wow," I said. "Cool." I leaned back and looked up into the sky. "Nate, how long did Samuel live? One of his wishes was for health too, right?" I asked. "Yes," replied Nate, "it was. He lived 167 years." "Wow, 167 years. Do you know what he died of, Nate?" "He died of getting tired of living, Bif," Nate said, sounding sad. "Samuel knew he wasn't going to be able to stay in society. He figured that they'd eventually see him still alive and start questioning it, so he decided he'd have to disappear after a while. He wasn't very fond of mankind, but his daughter and then his wife dying did him in. He didn't stay in society much longer after that. He eventually came here to spend time talking to me and thinking about pulling the lever. A few months ago he told me he'd had enough. It was his time." "And then he just died?" I asked. Nate shook his head a little. "He made his fourth request, Bif. There's only one thing you can ask for the fourth request. The last bite." After a bit Nate continued, "He told me that he was tired, that it was his time. He reassured me that someone new would show up soon, like they always had." After another pause, Nate finished, "Samuel's body disappeared off the stone with the sunrise." I lay back down and looked at the sky, leaving Nate with his memories. It was a long time until I finally fell asleep. I woke with the sunrise the next morning. I was a little chilled with the morning desert air, but overall feeling good. Well, except that my stomach was grumbling and I wasn't willing to eat raw desert rat. So after getting directions to town from Nate, and reassuring Nate that I'd be back soon, I started the long walk back to town. With my new health and Nate's good directions, I made it back easily. I caught a bus back home, told my folks I'd managed to walk out of the desert, and my dad got a friend with a tow truck to help us fetch the SUV. We found it after a couple of hours of searching and towed it back without incident. I was careful not to even look in the direction of Nate's lever, though our path back didn't come within sight of it. Before the next weekend, I had gone to a couple of stores, including a book store. On Saturday, I headed back to see Nate. I parked a little way out of the small town, loaded up my backpack with camping gear and the things I was bringing for Nate, and started walking. I figured walking would leave the least trail, and I knew that while not many people camped in the desert, it wasn't unheard of, and shouldn't really raise suspicions. I'd brought more books for Nate - recent books, magazines, newspapers. Some things that would catch Nate up with what was happening in the world, others that were just good reads. I spent the weekend with Nate, then headed out again, telling Nate that I'd be back again soon. Months later I went to see Nate again. This time I brought a laptop with me - a specially modified laptop. It had a solar recharger, filters and seals to keep out the sand, a satellite link-up, and a special keyboard and joystick that I hoped that a fifteen-foot rattlesnake would be able to use. And, it had been hacked to not give out its location to the satellite. After that I could e-mail Nate to keep in touch. After a year, I moved to Australia. For some reason, with the wisdom I'd been given, staying in that the US didn't seem that worthwhile any more. But I remembered to drop by and visit Nate occasionally whenever I was back in the US. On one of the visits Nate was quieter than usual. My best guess was that Nate still missed Samuel, and I hadn't been able to replace Samuel in Nate's eyes. Nate had been getting quieter each visit. But on this visit Nate didn't even speak when I walked up to the lever. He nodded at me, and then went back to staring into the desert. I respected Nate's silence, and just sat down and waited. After a few minutes, Nate spoke. "Bif, I have someone to introduce you to." "Someone to introduce me to?" I looked around, and then looked carefully back at Nate. "This something to do with the Big Guy?" "No, no," replied Nate. "This is more personal. I want you to meet my son." Nate looked over at the nearest sand dune. "Sammy!" I watched as a four foot long desert rattlesnake crawled from behind the dune and up to the stone base of the lever. "Yo, Bif" said the new, much smaller snake. "Yo, Sammy" I replied. I looked at Nate. "Named after Samuel, I assume?" Nate nodded. "Bif, I've got a favor to ask you. Could you show Sammy around for me?" Nate unwrapped himself from the lever and slithered over to the edge of the stone and looked across the sands. "When Samuel first told me about the world, and brought me books and pictures, I wished that I could go see it. I wanted to see the great forests, the canyons, the cities, even the other deserts, to see if they felt and smelled the same. I want my son to have that chance - to see the world. Before he becomes bound here like I have been. "He's seen it in pictures, over the computer that you brought me. But I hear that it's not the same. That being there is different. I want him to have that. Think you can do that for me?" I nodded. This was obviously very important to Nate, so I didn't even joke about taking a talking rattlesnake out to see the world. "Yeah, I can do that for you, Nate. Is that all you need?" I could sense there was something more. Nate looked at Sammy. Sammy looked back at Nate for a second and then said, "Oh, yeah. Ummm, I've gotta go pack. Back in a little bit Bif. Nice to meet ya!" Sammy slithered back over the dune and out of sight. Nate watched Sammy disappear and then looked back at me. "Bif, this is my first son. My first offspring through all the years. You don't even want to know what it took for me to find a mate." Nate grinned to himself. "But anyway, I had a son for a reason. I'm tired. I'm ready for it to be over. I needed a replacement." I considered this for a minute. "So, you're ready to come see the world, and you wanted him to watch the lever while you were gone?" Nate shook his head. "No, Bif - you're a better guesser than that. You've already figured out - I'm bound here - there's only one way for me to leave here. And I'm ready. It's my time to die." I looked more closely at Nate. I could tell Nate had thought about this - probably for quite a while. I had trouble imagining what it would be like to be as old as Nate, so I figured I could understand his decision. All I said was, "What do you want me to do?" Nate nodded. "Thanks, Bif. I only want two things. One - show Sammy around the world - let him get his fill of it, until he's ready to come back here and take over. Two - give me the fourth request. "I can't just decide to die. I won't even die of old age like you eventually will. I need to be killed. Once Sammy is back here, ready to take over, I'll be able to die. And I need you to kill me. I've even thought about how. Poisons and other drugs won't work on me. And I've seen pictures of snakes that were shot - some of them live for days, so that's out too. So, I want you to bring back a sword." Nate turned away to look back to the dune that Sammy had gone behind. "I'd say an axe, but that's somewhat undignified - putting my head on the ground or a chopping block like that. No, I like a sword. A time-honored way of going out. A dignified way to die. And, most importantly, it should work, even on me. You willing to do that for me, Bif?" Nate turned back to look at me. "Yeah, Nate," I replied solemnly, "I think I can handle that." Nate nodded. "Good!" He turned back toward the dune and shouted, "Sammy! Bif's about ready to leave!" Then quietly, "Thanks, Bif." I didn't have anything to say to that, so I waited for Sammy to make it back to the lever, nodded to him, nodded a final time to Nate, and then headed into the desert with Sammy following. Over the next several years me and Sammy kept in touch with Nate through e-mail as we went about our adventures. I showed Sammy all around the States and then smuggled him back into Australia. I was pretty nervous about getting him through quarantine, but Sammy managed to keep himself hidden. When we got back to Australia, I suggested that we go see the Great Barrier Reef. We did. And Uluru. We went all around the country, but as I started planning our next adventures, Sammy finally told me that it was time - he was ready to go back and take up his duties from his dad. I delayed it a little by insisting that we visit Japan to buy an appropriate sword. I stretched it a little more by demanding we do extensive research, to make sure I get something truly traditional and classy instead of some weeb-bait anime sword. But eventually, it was time to head back and see Nate. When we got back to the US, I rented another SUV, loaded up Sammy and the sword, and we headed for the desert. When we got to the nearby small town, I was in a funk. I still didn’t really want to do this. But I thought up one more thing to do to stall for time. I emailed Nate and told him that we couldn’t send him off without a goodbye party, and a great last meal. I got a room in the local motel and spent a few days doing tons of planning, going through cooking blogs looking for the best recommendations on party food. But Sammy looked over my shoulder, unimpressed. “Me and my Dad are still snakes. We don’t want to eat all that weird stuff. Just make this one,” Sammy said, pointing his tail to a tab on my screen. “It’ll be a bit fancy, but it’s got nice simple meaty ingredients. It sounds really good, I’m sure Dad will love it.” It was a recipe for chicken liver pate. I agreed that sounded nice, so I ran out to the grocery store for ingredients so we could give it a test run. When I woke up the next morning, I smelled something delicious. I walked into the kitchen and was astonished to see Sammy had somehow managed to get the pate nearly done already all by himself. He was holding a salt shaker in his mouth and was shaking a few sprinkles of salt down into a blender, already full of sauteed onions and chicken liver. “Good morning, sleepyhead! Ready for a taste test?” Sammy asked once he put the salt back down. “I’ve just got everything ready, but I could use some help with the pepper grinder.” Still feeling pretty stunned, I turned the pepper grinder over the blender till Sammy said when, then put the cover on top of the blender and held it down. Sammy pressed the button until everything made a thick, smooth paste. I grabbed a couple spoons and held one out for Sammy while having a taste myself. “Wow, this is really good. I can’t believe you’re a talking and cooking snake now,” I said. “Yeah! I really did it!” Sammy shouted. I was pretty happy for him too. I scooped all the pate out into ramekins for him and left them out so he could eat some more for breakfast. Then I headed to the shower to get ready for my day. By the time I was all dressed and ready, I came out and couldn’t see at first where Sammy was. I looked around the whole motel room but couldn’t find him. Starting to panic, I opened the front door and saw him hiding behind some large bushes, fiddling with something. “Sammy? What the hell are you doing?” I whispered, worried that someone might see him. Sammy just grinned at me as he pressed a button and a machine behind him took off into the air. It was a drone, and he’d hooked it up to carry a small cooler bag. Then he slithered back inside. “Okay, let’s hurry up and go see Dad!” Sammy said as soon as I’d closed the door again. “He’s so excited to have his last meal be the first thing I ever cooked!” “Now hold on a minute,” I said, “First of all, what was all that with the drone?” “I knew you’d keep dragging your feet, so I programmed it to fly off with a special delivery for Dad. You don’t want to spoil that special experience, do you? Where me and Dad both get to share my first ever cooking together for his last meal?” Sammy said, looking very smug. “I- I guess not, but…” I stammered. “Just ask him! He’s real excited!” Sammy brought up his email. Sure enough, Nate had just sent a message that he was so happy to hear I’d shown Sammy enough of the outside world that Nate could pass on the duty now. And how proud he’d be to have his last meal be something Sammy cooked himself. I guessed there was no more putting it off now. I begrudgingly got into the SUV and headed off with Sammy, so we could all have a nice last lunch together before the food went off in the desert heat. The drive went well, until we got to the sand dunes. The SUV was fishtailling and losing traction. I had to work it up each dune slowly, and was trying to keep from losing control each time we came over the top and slid down the other side. As we came over the top of the last dune, the biggest one yet, I put on the brakes, but I'd gone a little too far. The SUV started slipping down the other side. I tried turning the wheel, but I didn't have enough traction. I pumped the brakes - no response. They started sliding down the hill, faster and faster. I suddenly noticed some familiar-looking ramekins from this morning. Nate had unpacked the pate from the cooler bag and set the ramekins out on the cool stone for us to sit and have our lunch right next to the lever. I looked down – the SUV was directly on course for our picnic. If I didn't do something, we would hit the ramekins of pate, and right behind them, the lever. I was about to end humanity. I steered more frantically, trying to get traction. It still wasn't working. The dune was too steep, and the sand too loose. In a split second, I realised that my only chance would be once I hit the stone around the lever - I should have traction on the stone for just a second before I hit the pate and the lever behind it - I wouldn't have time to stop, but I should be able to steer away. I took a better grip on the steering wheel and tried to turn a little bit - every little bit would help. I'd have to time this turn just right. The SUV got to the bottom of the dune, sliding at an amazing speed. I looked to check if we were still heading for the lever. We were. But I noticed something else. Nate wasn't wrapped around the lever, or next to the pate. He was off to the side of the lever, waiting for us to arrive. The problem was, he was waiting on the same side that I already picked to steer towards to avoid the lever. The SUV was already starting to drift that way a little in its mad rush across the sand, and there was no way I was going to be able to go around the lever to the other side. I had an instant of realization. I was either going to have to hit the lever along with the pate, or run over Nate. I glanced over at Sammy and saw that Sammy realized the same thing. I took a firmer grip on the steering wheel as the RV ran up on the stone. Shouting to Sammy as I pulled the steering wheel, "Better Nate than liver!", I ran over the snake.  Sammy’s Simple Pate 500g chicken livers 2-3 Tbsp of butter for cooking, plus more for the top layer 1 brown onion, chopped 1 carrot, chopped 1 hardboiled egg salt and pepper to taste Saute the chicken livers in butter, also saute the onion and carrot. Once everything is cooked, throw it all into the blender with the hardboiled egg, salt and pepper. Spoon into ramekins and top with a layer of melted butter, this will help it keep longer.
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Nov 6, 2022 15:03
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pretty tempted to just  Bif, lol.Causa is good and spicy! Works better with salt. Also better quality crab, probably, the shell particles are a bit off-putting in mouth. If you can get Shichimi spices, recommended too. Worth the work 
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Nov 6, 2022 15:32
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Potat is boil. If I know I'm going to mash it anyway I usually cut the potato into pieces first, it cooks faster that way. I couldn't find aji amarillo, so instead I used some of the chilis from the other day, with olive oil and lime juice. The result is not quite golden, and kind of resembles sweet potato in color, but it'll do!  Likewise, the crab meat at the store isn't really worth it. So I dismantled some chicken from yesterday and mixed that up with mayonnaise instead.  I swear I took a picture of the tiny overpriced avocado but my phone seems to disagree with that idea. But anyway, I put some plastic wrap in some ramekins to help with dislodging the result later. A layer of potato, then a layer of sliced avocado, then the chicken salad, then more potato. There was enough for two servings.  They are in the fridge now, waiting to set. Looking forward to seeing what this tastes like later.
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Nov 6, 2022 15:37
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also our corn pudding went the opposite way from the other posters - we got it with a solid texture (great) but it was absolutely not sweet at all. Tasted of corn and not much else, so kinda insipid. I guess I held back on sugar too much. Solution: add some honey on top. Now it tastes loving awesome. 
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Nov 6, 2022 15:46
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Oh ok. Yeah it was voodoo who visited hct, given there were no other visitors I thought it was a dead end but there you have it. ##vote voodoo
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Nov 6, 2022 15:51
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It's time for A Recipe With A Story, or Gingerbread Cake! So to start with, this recipe is kind of an untranslatable pun, since the German work for gingerbreak, Lebkuchen, already contains the work cake, Kuchen, so it's a double cake. The literal translation would be either loafcake cake or living cake cake, depending on the origin of the "Leb" part of Lebkuchen. Of course this does raise the question why it's called that way, because gingerbread should not be alive, and the recipe is nothing like an actual loaf of break. It does turn nice and brown after baking, so maybe that's where the bread comes from?  Anyway, the backstory is that I got this recipe from a former coworker, but there was a problem. I didn't have a kitchen scale for the longest time, because I have this awesome measuring cup pictured here that can just measure sugar and flour in addition to all liquid stuff, and if I ever need to weigh anything else, I can just wing it with those scales. Cooking isn't that exact of a science, it'll turn out fine either way.  She disagreed and only gave me the recipe under the condition that I buy a kitchen scale before making it. So, if you're reading this, here is photographic evidence that not only did I keep my promise and am now the proud owner of a kitchen scale, but that this gingerbread cake also contains the exact amount of sugar as listed in the recipe. It may look like a strange amount, but I have been assured that this has been scientifically tested by various chemists and 357 g of sugar is, in fact, the correct amount. You also need 250 g Butter, 200 mL cream, 4 eggs (I used five because we had five eggs left) and the aforementioned 357 g sugar. Put it in the bowl and mix it together. I only used brown sugar because I had some left, white sugar works just as well, seeing as they're literally the same substance, only brown sugar either hasn't been cleaned as much or has been caramelized a bit for the look. Don't trust any recipes that insist that it has to be brown sugar, people just write that to sound fancy.  Then you add 500 g flour, 1 package of baking powder, 1 tea spoon connamon and 1.5 teaspoons of gingerbread spice mix (cinnamon, coriander, anis seed, fennel, nutmeg, clove and cardamom). As you can see, there is a bit too much flour in the mix. This will not matter at all. I also used a bit more gingerbread spice, because the mix I used said that 1 package was sufficient for 500 g flour.  The thing cooking and chemistry have in common is that there are times when you need to be precise, and times when you don't. 508 g of flour instead of 500 g is when you don't need to be exact. So really, I could have just used my measuring cup for the flour, and probably for the sugar as well, even if people refuse to believe me. Even the additional egg won't cause problems. Or the additional tea spoon of spice mix. It's like when back in the college lab, people would insist that they had to use the analytical scale to measure their sodiumhydroxide so the solution they used to neutralize the acid would have the exact right concentration, when the end result just had to be "slightly basic". It's important to be precise when you need to have an exact pH value, but if you just need to turn your lackmus paper blue, there's no need to bother with all of that.  Anyway, that's basically the story behind this recipe. I considered other options, like the story of how I made carbonara for the first time and forgot the egg, so my dad dumped all of his sauce back in the pan because he would not go without the egg, or the story of how I had a cold sausage on white bread for Christmas dinner and proudly told my grandma that this was going to be the best Christmas dinner ever (look, my Christmas dinner up until that point had been white bread with Nutella, because my family makes cheese fondue every Christmas) and how that traumatized my mother so badly that she went and found a Christmas dinner I could actually eat, but in the end I decided to go with this one, because it perfectly fits the most important criteria for a food blog post: nobody in the entire world gives a gently caress about it.  Bake at 200 - 220 °C (392 - 428 °F) for about 25 minutes and wait, NOW we can be unprecise? After the cake has cooled, you can glaze it with some sugar. (Also, just to make this clear, I really was ecstatic about the sausage, because it's really tasty, and I also liked eating white bread with Nutella on Christmas, because we normally don't have that.)
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Nov 6, 2022 16:36
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Opopanax posted:Oh ok. Yeah it was voodoo who visited hct, given there were no other visitors I thought it was a dead end but there you have it. Are you saying you did have a result and it wasn't just a fake gambit?
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Nov 6, 2022 16:45
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Hyper Crab Tank posted:Are you saying you did have a result and it wasn't just a fake gambit? So what had happened was Grandi said you didn’t have any visitors, and rather than just have a wasted night action I made that post to see if I could scare scum into doing something. Then shortly after that Grandi realized he’d messed up and said “oh wait no voodoo was there”. Since it didn’t seem like anything had happened I didn’t see any point in outing him, but now that you’re claiming you lost your bp it’s pretty obvious what happened
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Nov 6, 2022 16:50
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Yeah went back and checked again what HCT said in masonry and now it's making more sense to me what your investigation was. ##feed homunculus parsley
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Nov 6, 2022 17:32
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##feed homunculous thyme That's a hell of a sunday breakfast but Frunk is a different kind of...person.
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Nov 6, 2022 17:57
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 Dislodging it from the ramekin was harder than I expect, but there's nothing wrong with the taste!
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Nov 6, 2022 18:18
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Causa de cangrejo (or at least something along those lines) Since I don't eat crabs, I went with the chicken option.  The result was some kind of chicken mayo, which was pretty tasty!  Sadly, I was unable to make it look as fancy as wol's picture.
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Nov 6, 2022 18:23
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Well I wrote a whole backstory in a word file, and then word garbled the file and it is loving gone, and I'm pissed. I know it's in there somewhere. Meanwhile, just so I know what is happening because I am slow: Opop watched HCT, and at first saw nobody, so asked about it, and then was told that Voodoo visited? This almost sounds like fake news but maybe I have misunderstood something.
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Nov 6, 2022 18:45
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I did not do any action night 1. I tried to steal a spice from HCT night 2 and was told my action failed so I still have fenugreek and 30 points. I also realize how this looks so honestly not going to fight it much and I’ll vote myself once you all get to numbers. For what it’s worth my recipe should get you all points. It’s meant to be the broadest possible recipe so don’t let Grandi get specific on you. Anything at all should count. Points for all food. The summer of pasta and revolution shall never die!
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Nov 6, 2022 18:47
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Doubt. You see, I had salt both nights 1 and 2. Night 1, it was spent in the night, presumably because of a theft attempt. I bought some more salt for night 2, and that time it was not spent.
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Nov 6, 2022 18:50
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Voodoofly posted:I did not do any action night 1. I tried to steal a spice from HCT night 2 and was told my action failed so I still have fenugreek and 30 points. Left out part: Fenugreek says if someone else visits your target you fail. When opop made his claim I put out the soft teaser about stealing I’m thinking opop could then claim everyone who targeted HCT. I assumed maybe one other person would have bought, or could spend twenty points, on fenugreek and could confirm the failure when multiple people visit. I have no idea why opop only saw me though. But thankfully I don’t have to figure it out anymore you all can do that after I flip
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Nov 6, 2022 18:51
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Well, if it turns out it's not you, then it's Illusionis and Opop.
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Nov 6, 2022 18:52
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Hyper Crab Tank posted:Doubt. You see, I had salt both nights 1 and 2. Night 1, it was spent in the night, presumably because of a theft attempt. I bought some more salt for night 2, and that time it was not spent. I didn’t target you night 1. But fenugreek doesn’t cause you to spend a spice. It takes one of your spices and replaces it with fenugreek. So if you got something stolen n1 you should have had fenugreek in its place. Or there is a better stealing spice out there.
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Nov 6, 2022 18:54
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Hyper Crab Tank posted:Well, if it turns out it's not you, then it's Illusionis and Opop. Or eve more simply there is a spice that makes you unwatchable/untraceable. You can’t just have spices that help town if you expect any sort of balance.
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Nov 6, 2022 18:55
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Well if Voodoo does somehow flip town it's pretty clear that something was used to gently caress with night results. I will also say that it makes no sense for Opop and me to both to be scum in that scenario, why would 2 scum both stick their necks out to kill a player when one incriminating night result would more than likely be enough.
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Nov 6, 2022 19:17
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No clue not my problem anymore. This is my favorite position to be in; town, caught in some bullshit so you completely know you are going to need to flip but now have zero reasons to bullshit or pretend or even act like you know what is happening. So good luck I guess. I might start posting dog pics in here to pass the time. I’d try to say who the scum was but no reason to pretend like I have any clue this game.
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Nov 6, 2022 19:22
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Oh yeah rwc put me in a masonry last night. So far we just post and talk about dogs. Here are some highlights  
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Nov 6, 2022 19:25
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Bifauxnen posted:Very long story about liver This makes me just wanna make chopped liver.
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Nov 6, 2022 19:54
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I bought Fenugreek already and can confirm that it works as voodoo said. It is a spice steal that swaps the fenugreek with a spice the other player has, It fails if the target is visited by anyone else (it has the Shy trait from the op) If your action fails from that, you don't expend the Fenugreek. If your target has no spice to steal the fenugreek stays to use again.
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Nov 6, 2022 19:59
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Regardless though, I still think the thing from illusionis is pretty damning. consider my vote on voodoo but i wanna leave more time for us to cook stuff and chat about food today.
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Nov 6, 2022 20:12
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| # ? Jun 2, 2024 13:36 |
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Okay, but a failed action should not have registered as a visit for track, right? Opopanax posted:So what had happened was Grandi said you didn’t have any visitors, and rather than just have a wasted night action I made that post to see if I could scare scum into doing something. Then shortly after that Grandi realized he’d messed up and said “oh wait no voodoo was there”. Since it didn’t seem like anything had happened I didn’t see any point in outing him, but now that you’re claiming you lost your bp it’s pretty obvious what happened Opop watched HCT, saw one visitor, Voodoo. That means the failure condition for Fenugreek was met, since HCT was visited by at least one other person. So Voodoo should not have registered as a visitor. Illusionis posted:Ah well, I did wonder why you didn't react to me asking Voodoo about his nightly activities Opop. So I used a spice tracker last night, paprika + brown sugar + ginger gets rid of the shy, let's you know who the target visited and what spices they used. I targeted Voodoo and the result I got was visited HCT and used no spice. No way town has non-spice visits so that's scum obviously caught, well with a bit of a snag in the mix, but most likely. Illu tracked Voodoo to HCT, same situation. That's two people confirming a visit that, according to Voodoo's statement, did not happen. Additionally, Illu spicecopped Voodoo not using any spices. And HCT lost his bulletproof, presumably as a result of someone trying to nightkill him. So even if we entertain Voodoo's theory that this is all complete bullshit and there is some ninja spice thing going on, that's still two statements that don't match with his own claim of not having performed any successful night action.
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Nov 6, 2022 20:18
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