Fairy Tail RP

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    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Dagda
    Dagda

    Richie Rich- Rich- Player 
    Lineage : Warrior's Heart
    Position : None
    Posts : 156
    Guild : Meliora Vitae [GM]
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Experience : 34,736

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Leviathan
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Dagda 1st September 2020, 11:16 pm

    Space Dad
    Dagda
    Just call it an adventure and it ain’t so bad!
    Job: S Rank Freeform
    Post Word Count: 1,989
    Job Word Count: 1,989/14,000
    Muse: Daddy/10
    Music: Bakin’
    Items Used IC/OOC: Item 1, Item 2
    Active Spells: Spell 1 (Duration: x/x)

    The day before

    In the days before this lovely, sunny, late summer day, Magnolia had been full of bustling people. Bystanders often stopped by to see the large structures being built in one of the many large parks that dotted the city. Skyscraping logs were erected, booths and stages built, paths covered with wood shavings. Temporary fencing gave shape to paths and walls to the different sections. It was a sight to see. Several groups of kids had tried to wander in, only to be chased off by the event employees.

    It was the time of the annual Manly Man Festival, where men came from around Fiore to do everything considered manly. Of course, this event was accepting of all. In modern times, anyone of any creed, age, or gender was allowed to participate in the contests. Just the previous year, many of the first place prizes had been claimed by women, and one even claimed by an ancient elf! There was a carnival section for kids, complete with rides and sweets. Despite its name, there was no exclusiveness at all. The event organizers simply kept the title because it had long-rooted history in Magnolia. People even protested when they tried to change it. The Manly Man Fest had been going on for exactly 99 years, and this year was its 100th celebration.

    The organizers had gone all out with this year’s centennial celebration. More space was allocated for food, vendors, games, contests, and competitions. For weeks they had sent out fliers across Earthland to advertise the festivities. Event employees had been answering phones day and night in the weeks leading up to this. People were wondering if things would really be as grand as they had head. The answer they got was an enthusiastic ‘yes!’

    At the entrance to the park, the head event organizer loitered around a security booth with his council. Dressed in a slick black suit with a crisp bowtie, he stood out among the others. His dark moustache was curled at the ends, one of which he now twiddled between his fingers.

    “Hans, how is the interactive art exhibit coming?” he queried a nervous looking man to his left.

    “T-they’re hanging the last paper and glass pieces, sir.” Hans was a short mouse of a man with wide eyes. He held a clipboard stacked full of papers in his twitchy hands. At his waist hung a myriad of walkie-talkies, all occasionally buzzing as different attendants called in to report completed projects.

    “Excellent. And the main stage?”

    “Er, well, they had to re-coat the floorboards this morning. The paint supplier had a drunken employee drop-” Hans replied, biting on the end of his pen before being cut off by his superior. He let out a whimper.

    “Enough! I don’t want to hear of the failures. Only speak to me of those if there is not a solution yet!” The moustached man snapped. “Tell me of the successes!”

    “Y-yes, sir.”

    “Midi has sent a troupe of their best sumo wrestlers to perform,”
    piped up a woman from nearby. “They’ll also be teaching a class on the north side of the park after their debut. We’ve got their hotel and expenses covered, and an employee waiting for them at the entrance to the city as an escort.”

    “Perfect!”


    “Ooh! The final strength competition finished their preparations today. They’ve got a team trained and ready to set up each module as it comes. The fans will love this year’s competitions!” A man had stepped in from outside of the tent and relayed his sector’s successes.

    “Fantastic!”

    “Security just radioed in,” interrupted a man sitting at a nearby table. He was a member of the security personnel. “All security and medical stations are prepared. Night guards will scout the perimeter all night and another sweep will be done at dawn and ten minutes before opening.”

    “Excellent!” the head organizer crooned, revelling in the perfected organization of the event. “Things are going swimmingly.”

    Just then, a young man burst into the tent. “The cooking competition needs some help carrying boxes to their area. Their movers quit on them.”

    “HANS!” the organizer shouted with two claps of his hands. Hans jumped, then saluted the organizer with a shaky hand. “These people need assistance. Chop chop! Let’s go!” he ordered, exiting the tent at a march with the assistant following meekly behind.

    ♜♜♜

    “Thifs ith fanthathic!” Dagda exclaimed around his mouthful of steak, forgetting his manners. The flavors of butter and meat melded in his mouth, accentuated by the perfect amount of salt, pepper, and other spices he hadn’t tasted before. He had never tried anything like it. Hell, he’d never even considered combining steak and butter before! It was genius! Whoever came up with this deserved the highest of praise.

    The titan closed his eyes in bliss as he took another bite. I could eat this for the rest of my life, he thought to himself. In the moment, it was the truth. Dagda had always loved meat. It was a mandatory part of his people’s diet. Living high in the mountains of Tetsukazu, there weren't many options for plants or fruits, save for the tough tubers that grew in the rocky lower slopes. The titan had always hated those damned things. They were nothing compared to the fresh, wild flavor of game he had caught himself. His taste for meat had grown with him as a young Marmor. Though he wasn’t the best chef, it was something he always enjoyed cooking.

    This Earthland stake was simply divine though. After his arrival via wormhole, and upon integrating into Fiorean society, Dagda had tasted flavors and foods he had never even considered possible. Bakeries and candy shops held treats so sweet they made his teeth hurt. Other places such as pubs had things so salty he felt the need to chug several glasses of water afterwards. Those were just the extremes, though. He’d tasted things like pasta, onions, and even discovered the glory that was dark chocolate with orange. Now that was something to write home about.

    Dagda had managed to secure a spot as a judge of the cooking contest in this massive Manly Man Festival. He’d seen fliers plastered all around Magnolia in the months before. In the days leading up to it, the town he’d temporarily made his home base became a busy madhouse. There were more people in town, and now at this festival, than he had even seen in his life!

    The judge spot hadn’t come easy, though. It was definitely luck of the draw, as the other judges were professionals. There was one spot open to be taken by the public via name drawing. It had happened the Saturday before in a cool afternoon in the park. A crowd gathered around a small stage to hear who was chosen as the guest judge. When his name had been called, Dagda let out a loud cheer that had scared others around him and gotten him some weird stares.

    Those stares were now mirrored as the professional judges stared at the titan incredulously. He’d kind of wolfed down the whole steak in just minutes, while they had sawed off tiny bites to ‘accentuate the flavors’ or something like that. Realizing that he was the odd one out, Dadga shrugged his shoulders at them sheepishly. What did they expect when taking someone from the public to participate in the judging?

    Looking up, the Marmor took a gander at who exactly had made this divine creation. A man around his age had stepped forward, separated from the other contestants by a few feet. Spiky silver hair topped his head, slightly messy but not unkempt. He was tall but some inches shorter than Dagda, who rose a head above the crowd even while seated in a chair. The most striking thing about him, much to the delight of some of those in the crowd, was his lack of shirt. Only an apron covered his torso but one could still see his abs peeking out from beneath.

    Dagda raised an eyebrow as the announcer declared the end of the contest. Shirtless was an interesting way to cook, especially for a competition. However, it didn’t bother him like it did with a few of the other judges. They gave him piercing stares, trying to avoid looking at the muscles. When the judging was done, Dagda would have to try to catch that man on his way out. The titan desperately wanted to compliment his cooking. That steak was unlike anything else!

    The judges retreated to a nearby small tent to deliberate on the winner. Dagda entered the tent last, having to duck quite low to make it through the flaps. They sat in a circle of chairs facing inwards. Awkwardly the titan situated himself on the small seat. The discussion went through each of the contestants, listing their successes and faults with their steaks. Some only garnered criticism, while others were rained in praise. Dagda pitched in first thing when the last man came up.

    “That steak was just perfection,” the oversized man said with a contented sigh. Many of the other judges nodded and muttered their agreements. One other man, with a long, pointed nose and wide, thin glasses let out a ‘humph’ of disapproval. He was obviously an uppity professional with a holier-than-thou attitude. He sat with arms crossed.

    “I did not think he was that great,” the man said in a snooty, nasally tone.

    “Why is that?” Dagda asked calmly. Though the guy’s attitude was less than ideal, this had to be dealt with patience and level-headedness.

    “His butter was mixed with bleu cheese, a disturbing pairing. Not to mention he was cooking dressed in nothing!” the nasty judge spat. One other person voiced their agreement, but quieted down when they realized that the other judges did not agree. Several sets of annoyed and incredulous eyes gazed at the uptight man.

    “Is this not a cooking competition?” Dagda asked steadily. “We’re here to judge the food and its flavors. We’re here to judge the skills of the chefs. We’re here to judge everything from the tiniest amount of salt to the char on the sides of the steaks.” He had risen from his chair without realising it, looming over the shorter man. The other cowered in his chair, glaring up at the titan through his glasses.

    “We are not here to judge the chefs’ appearances. What they are wearing does not matter as long as it’s publicly appropriate. Can a man not cook in the comfort of his own skin?” Dagda asked thunderously, without any malice. He was simply asking, after all. Other judges piped up and voiced their agreement. They were tired of this professional judge and his nasty attitudes.

    “I suppose he can,” muttered the judge in disgusted defeat, averting his eyes. His arms crossed tighter over his chest.

    “All in favor of contestant number nine, say aye!” another judge called out, only to be met with a chorus of positive responses from the rest. Only the snooty judge did not reply.

    “It seems we have a winner then.” A grin lit up Dagda’s face. Somehow he felt a kinship to the winning contestant, though they had never met before nor spoken face to face. Perhaps it was a feeling falsely inflated by his enjoyment of the steak. Either way, once the winner was declared onstage and the commotion died down, the Marmor approached the spiky-haired chef.

    “Sir, I’d just like to say what a wonderful job you did in that contest. I’ve never tasted anything like that steak!” He stuck out his hand to shake. “My name is Dagda. I just gotta know: what’s your secret? How do you cook like that?” There was an excitement on his face akin to that of a child in a candy store. So much could be learnt from this guy!
    IVYLEAF33



    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Cillian duCrosse
    Cillian duCrosse

    Player 
    Lineage : Reaper's Touch
    Position : None
    Posts : 126
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 25,562

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Necrothurgy
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Cillian duCrosse 2nd September 2020, 4:12 pm

    Even though my life hasn't been all that great

      1602/1602 WORDS
      3591/14,000 TOTAL
     
    @Dagda
     
    THEME SONG
     
    I have seen war, famine; witnessed the genocide. Have seen the changes in human nature and history, and I am still here, standing alone. Til the end, I will be there too. To witness the endless carnage, to live this harsh reality. Cause I have been cursed, Cursed with immortality.
    It was difficult for a man like Cillian to be passionate about.. Well, really anything. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy life. Far from it, actually. He was quite happy with his life, all things considered, and spent most of his waking hours making the most of his time in ways that most people would never get the chance to do. Mostly this was because Cillian couldn’t die. Or rather, didn’t stay dead. He had lost count a long time ago over the number of times he had died over the last four hundred years. At this point he had zero inhibition because there was literally nothing that could stop him from doing whatever he wanted to do, even Death herself.

    But therein lay the problem. Cillian was an undead man. Not quite a zombie, but rather a man that was cursed with eternal life. That curse, mixed with how long he had already been alive, had caused emotions like empathy, passion and fear to simply… fade out of his repertoire over the centuries. Most days, he really felt nothing at all, not even pain. Sure he could feel happiness and excitement, but usually those moment were either fleeting or did not run very deep, spent over shallow happenstances that were of little to no importance to him, or really anyone. In truth, he was more numb than most people understood, even himself.

    However, Cillian loved food. More to the point, he loved cooking. He had been perfecting his skills as a culinary artist for a very long time, building upon processes and methods well over several centuries old. He even had within his own possessions a number of herbs and spices that were nearly impossible to find in the modern age. He didn’t need magic to utterly dominate in the kitchen, but sometimes the way he cooked there was suspicion that he did just that.

    Granted, most of that suspicion was teasing, and came from the mouths of two very sassy and lazy women. Vera and Dela had quickly attached themselves to him, and to one another, in the most unlikely of ways. There really was no sense to the way that they had decided to make him a semi-permanent fixture in their lives. He was a careless goofball that usually got himself into a lot of trouble and dragged them along with him, often kicking and screaming. Hell, he’d gotten killed the first day he’d ever met Dela, and she was furious with him after he popped up a minute or so later, having spent the whole time thinking that his death was going to be on her hands as a Rune Knight for not protecting him better. Granted, little had he known at the time that she shared a similar curse and she had more than gotten her payback on him not long after. Still, everything he did seemed to annoy her most of the time, yet she kept him around anyway.

    And it was pretty similar with Vera. The two women had become fast friends, sharing similar personalities and interests, though the purple haired drug addict was not privy to the knowledge of either Dela’s nor Cillian’s undead statuses. Vera complained just as often over Cillian’s antics nearly every moment that they spent together, yet she continued to come up with reasons to spend time with him. It was weird. Cillian really wasn’t used to having friends at all. Usually he kept himself at a distance from most people, at least emotionally, because what was the point? He’d outlived everyone he’d ever known by hundreds of years, and as far as he could tell would continue to do so until the end of time. But a glimmer of hope had been sparked, at least with Dela in realizing that he wasn’t necessarily completely alone, and somehow the two women had managed to worm their way into his life, for better or worse.

    He could only assume it was because of his cooking skills. Cillian, for as intelligent as he could be sometimes, was mostly an idiot. Not that he didn’t possess the capability of being smart, he simply didn’t care enough to pay attention to most things around him, nor to put much thought into the things he saw. As such, he was completely oblivious to the fact that both Dela and Vera had some pretty serious hots for him, despite the fact that Dela had attempted to jump him twice by this point. Both times she’d been several hundred miles left of sober, so he’d simply chalked her behaviors up to alcohol, or drugs from that one time Vera poofed into a cloud of cocaine and Dela had accidentally gotten a huge whiff of it. So inadequate were his abilities at reading behaviors that he simply chalked their obsession with him up to being obsessed with the food he often dished out. At this point they were almost hovering around him, especially when he was in the kitchen.

    However, today he was not with his faithful female companions. Both ladies were hard at work at their duties with the Rune Knights. Or rather, probably pretending to be hard at work. Cillian currently had no obligations he needed to meet with his secret guild, Hidden Blades. No, today his calendar had been cleared for one thing and one thing only: The Manly Man festival. It was already a pretty large event most years, but since this was the celebration of their one hundredth year straight of holding the festival, it was going to be even bigger than ever. Cillian had gone to the festival several times over the last one hundred years off and on, and he had yet to lose the cooking contest any time he’d joined. Honestly it was a wonder no one who worked with the event team had pulled him aside to start asking him some questions about how he had won so many awards over a span of one hundred years, despite looking no older than his early thirties.

    Today could be the day that broke his winning streak, however. Several of the contestants had brought their A games in honor for the big anniversary, and there were at least two other dishes that were threatening to steal the spotlight away from his butter and blue cheese steaks. After all the judges had gone into the tent to deliberate, the contestants had immediately gone to sharing their culinary dishes with one another, mostly to try and get an idea of exactly what kind of competition each of them had. There certainly had been no bad steaks as far as Cillian was concerned, though one of the contestants had overcooked his meat a little. However, there were at least two plates that even Cillian wasn’t sure he wanted to stop eating after he’d gotten a taste. And if he were to lose, well, he’d frankly just be honored to lose to such fine cooks. His winning luck had to run out at some point, anyway.

    However, today was not that day. After a few minutes of closed door discussion, the team of judges emerged and announced him the winner. A big, satisfied and somewhat dopey grin stretched across his face, the tall and lanky man taking a moment to shake hands with a couple of the other competitors on a tight race before making his way over to accept his award and thank the judges for their votes. Most of them seemed pretty happy, though one turned up his nose at him and seemed a bit disgusted with his presence. Unfortunately for that man and his sense of self importance, Cillian wasn’t exactly the most aware of individuals and the silent criticisms went by unnoticed, which only seemed to irritate the man more.

    One of the judges took time to interact with him a little more in depth. It wasn’t often that Cillian had to look up at anyone, but this guy was a tower of a man even when he was sitting. The necromancy recalled him as the judge who had wolfed down his entire steak seemingly in one bite, the guest judge not giving one wit about looking professional. He had just been a civilian that had come to eat, and he’d done just that. Cillian shook the offered hand easily, grinning a bit as the man complimented his steak once more and introduced himself, asking about his secret.

    “Nice to meet you, Dagda. My name is Cillian. Glad you liked it so much! As for my secret…” Cillian looked around a little as though looking to see if anyone else was listening in on their conversation. Then, as though he had some big revelation to bestow upon the man, leaned closer and quietly whispered. “Long forgotten spices and about four hundred years of practice.” He winked playfully at the man, crimson colored eyes alight with mischief. Most people never believed him when he gave that answer, assuming it was his way of joking and keeping his secrets to himself.

    Pulling back, Cillian set himself into his usual relaxed stance with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slightly slouched. “Gotta say, it’s been a long time since I’ve run into someone so much taller than me. Someone sure ate all their vegetables as a kid. What’s next for you guys? Do they let you enjoy other parts of the festival now, or do you have more contests to judge?”  
    I figure that if I live long enough, something good might happen.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Dagda
    Dagda

    Richie Rich- Rich- Player 
    Lineage : Warrior's Heart
    Position : None
    Posts : 156
    Guild : Meliora Vitae [GM]
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Experience : 34,736

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Leviathan
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Dagda 2nd September 2020, 10:23 pm

    Space Dad
    Dagda
    Just call it an adventure and it ain’t so bad!
    Job: Free form!
    Post Word Count: 635
    Job Word Count: 4,226/14,000
    Muse: Daddy/10
    Music: Bakin’
    Items Used IC/OOC: Item 1, Item 2
    Active Spells: Spell 1 (Duration: x/x)
    The two shook hands and Dagda’s introduction was returned. His name was Cillian, a name that the titan had heard a few times before. It was a common name in the Marmor tribes, especially the granite clan. Though the spellings varied, he’d made a few friends of Cillians in the past, and today he might get another opportunity. Already he liked the laid-back attitude of this guy. It was refreshing to meet someone who was friendly and lax.

    The silver-topped man leaned in to spill his cooking secrets in a low voice as if there were spies listening in. Dagda leaned his own head down, and upon hearing the very special secret, let out a laugh. Though the wink set a joking tone to the words, he had a feeling that a statement so outrageous could only be the truth.

    “400 years, huh?” That was a long time to be alive, let alone be a chef. Curious brown eyes peered over the mischievously smiling man. He didn’t look over 400, but looks were definitely deceiving. Who knew if he was exactly human or not, or if there was some sort of magical reason he had lived so long. This place was such a hodgepodge of people and humanoid species that anything was possible. Dagda tried not to linger on wondering. If Cillian had been perfecting recipes and trying new ones for so long, it was no wonder he won the contest today. Not to mention using spices that had been forgotten with time. The titan was teeming with more questions, but he didn’t want to be too overbearing at once, so he kept them silent for now.

    “You’re quite tall yourself,” Dagda commented, noticing how Cillian stood above others even in his slouched stance. “I’m actually one of the shortest men in my family,” he added, trying to downplay their difference in height. Being taller than the majority of people around him here was still something to get used to after all his months on Earthland. Dagda’s brother stood at a whopping seven feet and four inches, while his dad was a more modest six feet and ten inches. Even his late wife was only two inches shorter than he. Marmor were generally massive beings, even in their human forms. Going from being considered short at home to towering over everyone else was quite the change.

    “You know, I didn’t really check the details of the judging job too closely,” Dagda admitted with a laugh and a shrug. “I was looking forward to eating good food too much to really consider the aftermath! This was the only contest I was assigned ‘cause they wanted to give other attendees an opportunity to be judges too.” On his way in, a few of the games and attractions had caught his attention. He hadn’t exactly planned to visit them, but why not? The contest was held deep into the park, so he’d have to pass some booths and stuff on the way out anyways. It was worth sticking around for! Besides, much of the event consisted of stuff he enjoyed. Competitions, food, drink, prizes, there was fun in all of it. Maybe if he was lucky, he could find a food vendor that had some dark chocolate.

    “What about you? Any other cooking contests to partake in?” Dagda inquired, stepping closer to the stage to let an old lady by. He leaned an elbow on the polished wood and raised a hand to block the piercing midday sunlight from his eyes.

    “If not, would you want to come with me? I think it would be fun to try some of the strength competitions. I’ve heard whisperings that the best competitors are coming from out of town to participate. What do you think?” A warm smile accompanied his words.
    IVYLEAF33



    Last edited by Dagda on 3rd September 2020, 5:18 pm; edited 1 time in total


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Cillian duCrosse
    Cillian duCrosse

    Player 
    Lineage : Reaper's Touch
    Position : None
    Posts : 126
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 25,562

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Necrothurgy
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Cillian duCrosse 3rd September 2020, 4:58 pm

    Even though my life hasn't been all that great

      631/2233 WORDS
     4857/14,000 TOTAL
     
    @Dagda
     
    THEME SONG
     
    I have seen war, famine; witnessed the genocide. Have seen the changes in human nature and history, and I am still here, standing alone. Til the end, I will be there too. To witness the endless carnage, to live this harsh reality. Cause I have been cursed, Cursed with immortality.
    Well, he certainly had a sense of humor. Or at least, appreciated Cillian’s. Granted, Cillian was the type of guy who got along with most folk at the end of the day. He was pretty charming in his own right, if not always the brightest bulb in the box. Dagda ran along with the joke, whether or not he believed it, commenting on Cillian’s age, which drew a toothy grin from the slender man. The two of them opened up a bit of friendly conversation, with Cillian commenting on Dagda’s superior height. Apparently, the giant man was actually one of the shortest in his family. Cillian whistled lightly, impressed with that knowledge. Certainly a family of people that drank all their milk, that was for sure.

    The other man admitted that he really wasn’t sure if he had anything left to do now that this competition was completed. Apparently, the hosts of the event were interested in letting as many guest judges participate as possible so everyone got the chance to have a little fun. It made sense. Even Cillian could only be stuck at one booth for so long before he would want to go out and see what else was there to entertain him. He had the attention span of a fruit gnat, and nowhere was that more prevalent than at festivals such as this one.

    “Naw, nothing else for me,” he said when Dagda asked if he was signed up for anymore cooking games. “I only ever sign up for one, usually. Gotta let other people get some wins too.” Dagda asked if he would be interested in joining him for some of the other competitions, particularly the strength ones. Supposedly, most of the tougher competitors were from out of town and had come just to participate for the special anniversary.

    Cillian gave it a little thought, though not much. He was arguably one of the most easy going people anyone would ever meet, and while he hadn’t known Dagda for more than about two minutes at this point of the conversation, he seemed like a fun guy. Plus, Cillian couldn’t help but be curious to see if a big guy like him would just utterly squash the competition. “Sounds like fun to me,” he said. “I really wasn’t sure what I was gonna do after this. Usually I come to these things with a couple friends, but they’re both at work right now. Just give me a minute to pack up my shit and I’ll be all set to go.”

    Presuming that sounded agreeable to his new friend, Cillian hopped down from the stage and made his way over to his cooking area, collecting up all his ingredients and equipment into a small box. He also threw in his award and his apron, taking the whole thing over to the locker he’d been assigned and putting them away for the time being. I was a pretty warm day so he elected not to put his jacket back on, content with his shirtless look. For once, it wasn’t exactly out of place since a lot of guys were running around shirtless that day trying to show off their muscles and manliness.

    Hands back in his pockets, he joined back up with Dagda with a smile. “Allllright, what do you wanna check out? I only got to look around briefly at some of the games when I got here, before I had to start cooking. Everything I saw looked pretty fun, though. Could start with something pretty standard to get warmed up. Maybe like that ax throwing one? Been a while since I’ve done that one. I remember sucking at it. Then again, maybe I’ll do better if I try it sober this time.” He grinned up at him.  
    I figure that if I live long enough, something good might happen.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Dagda
    Dagda

    Richie Rich- Rich- Player 
    Lineage : Warrior's Heart
    Position : None
    Posts : 156
    Guild : Meliora Vitae [GM]
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Experience : 34,736

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Leviathan
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Dagda 3rd September 2020, 10:26 pm

    Space Dad
    Dagda
    Just call it an adventure and it ain’t so bad!
    Job: Free Form
    Post Word Count: 2,193
    Job Word Count: 7,047/14,000
    Muse: Daddy/10
    Music: Bakin’
    Items Used IC/OOC: Item 1, Item 2
    Active Spells: Spell 1 (Duration: x/x)
    ”Great!” Dagda replied, a grin cracking across his face. According to Cillian, he didn’t have any other obligations either. While he typically came with other people, they were busy, so the chef was on his own. The two had just met but the titan could already tell that this would be a fun day.

    Cillian walked off to go gather his cooking supplies and Dagda was left to his own devices for a few minutes. He retreated under a nearby tree to escape the fierce sunlight. The heat and light that came with late summer days was tough to deal with. There were no cool mountain breezes here to ease the temperature’s effects. His shoulders and the back of his neck had become quite sunburnt, though the red faded into darker skin tones within a few days. Many other people at the festival wore hats or sunglasses. Dagda vowed to get himself one of each. This weather was too unbearable not to!

    While he was zoned out watching a carousel make slow circles in the distance, a sound caught his attention. Voices picked up past the cooking contest stage, becoming louder as they approached. Turning, curious to see what the ruckus was about, Dagda witnessed a man coming down the path. Around him were several reporters and doting fans who peppered him with questions, overseasoning the air with their noise. A woman swooned as he passed by, though that could have been from heat exhaustion too. A group of male and female teenagers squealed in excitement at their proximity to him.

    This guy was massive. He didn’t reach Dagda’s height, or even Cillian’s, but every inch of his dark, tough skin was stretched taught by the muscles underneath. Even the sides of his neck were raised, hinting at the strength below. With every step the muscles in his legs flexed beneath the skin. He clearly didn’t skip leg day, or any day for that matter.

    Dagda straightened up from his leaning spot against the tree, interest piqued. His eyebrows rose as he watched the procession pass by. He hadn’t seen an Earthlander like this before. Among the Marmor, building impressive muscle mass was a common goal as they were genetically predisposed to be that way. But this was the first bodybuilding human he’d experienced. They seemed to be a rarity in everyday life, but at this festival maybe more would show themselves.

    Slung across the muscular man’s shoulder was a single-edged axe. The weapon mirrored its holder in that it was larger than a typical one would be. Wood treated in sealants and strengtheners made up the handle, carved with intricate scenery in the places where leather grips did not cover. Red tassels hung from the end of the handle and were tied just below the axe’s head. The blade itself was sharpened to perfection and made of a strong durosteel. The metal glinted in the sunlight. A see-through sheath protected the edge from cutting the bodybuilder.

    When he caught sight of the blade, Dagda’s jaw dropped. He’d never seen such a perfect axe before. Some sort of master blacksmith must have made it. The desperate desire to know just who had made it struck the titan. To have one of those axes himself… now that would be like a dream.

    Some of the reporters’ questions reached his ears. “Mr. Armstrong, sir, how was your trip from Desierto?”

    “What are your goals for this year’s festival?”

    “Are you excited about the centennial axe-throwing competitions?”

    “Do you have a girlfriend?”

    The questions faded as the entourage disappeared farther into the festival. It was clear where they were headed. Many people who had parted to let them through were now following in their wake, eager to see the bodybuilder compete. He was quite popular and an attention-getter, that was for sure.

    Cillian returned to Dagda, having cleaned up and stored his cooking supplies. The chef was shirtless still but hardly stood out among the crowds. This was the Manly Man Festival after all, and what would it be without people showing off their strength and muscular builds? Shirts were certainly not required for menfolk and the type of people to complain about that usually didn’t attend.

    “Axe throwing sounds good to me!” Dagda agreed cheerfully. The thought of competing against the beast of a man that had passed by just minutes before caused his eyes to gain an excited sparkle. “It’s been a while since I’ve done it too.” Precision and strength had been some of the key focuses of his training as a young Marmor warrior, achieved by various activities like axe throwing and boulder lifting. Hopefully his muscle memory would kick in and help him do well in the activity.

    Dagda beckoned to Cillian and the two made their way over to where the competition was happening. It wasn’t hard to find at all. The loud roaring cheers of the crowd had permeated around the whole park, and the booming voice of the announcer rang clear in the air. A bit of a line had formed outside of the entrance. There was a table there where event employees were directing people where to go and collecting admission fees. Audience members of whatever was going on in the semicircle arena area were directed to the right, while many different people were sent off to the left. Some held axes while others went in without.

    “I think we want to stick to the left if we’re going to participate,” Dagda noted to his companion. When they reached the booth, an employee piped up with the same message he repeated to everyone else. “If you want to watch the professional match, Robert will handle your admissions and tickets.” He gestured to a milquetoast man at the next table. “If you want to participate in the beginner and intermediate axe throwing, head left and you’ll get instructions there.”

    Following the crowd of other contestants, the two men would come to a stop around the back of the half-arena. An enthusiastic man greeted them. “Hey there! I’m guessing you’re here to do some axe throwing! Which level would you like to do? Once you get some practice, you’ll have the option of participating in the challenge of getting to the last lane.” Another loud cheer from the distant crowd pierced the air.

    Around them, there were lanes where the throwers had to launch their weapons towards targets at the other end. Some were quite a short distance, meant for beginners, while the farther away ones gave a span of many yards between thrower and target. Another area to the side was a more free form style with instructors that helped beginners get the hang of throwing and prevent any injury.

    “I’ll start at the beginning,” Dagda replied. He wanted to start slower and work his way up instead of being cocky and assuming he was able to do the hardest throw right away. This way would also give his arms a warm up too. The titan turned to see what Cillian’s answer would be. The man had mentioned he had limited success in the past.

    Whatever Cillian chose, the employee would lead them around the side of the booth to where a wall of axes hung. There were different sizes, materials, and marked weights, as well as charts to help first-timers figure out which axe to pick. After browsing for a few minutes and picking up a few to feel how they felt in his hand, Dagda found the perfect one. The handle wasn’t too light, which would allow for spin but not too much. It felt balanced in his hand, like an extension of his arm.

    Dagda was placed in the first beginner lane, with the target at about ten yards. The attendant accompanying him seemed skeptical, but looked on as he began. Readjusting his grip a few times, the titan tilted his head and peered at the target, trying to judge his aim. Straightening up, he drew his arm back, gathering strength. Then he let fly.

    Crack!

    Oops. The target now sat in many uneven splintered pieces on the ground, the axe having smashed clear through the wood by force and rested on the floor behind. This target was too close to handle the strength he threw with, even if his throw wasn’t that accurate. A lane with more distance to ease the destruction would do.

    “Uhh… maybe we should skip a few rounds?” Dagda hunched his shoulders sheepishly. The attendant gave a vigorous nod, his eyes still glued to the broken target. As the titan grabbed his axe and made his way a few lanes up, the attendant stayed a noticeable distance further from him.

    On this one, Dagda decided to use his left arm. He normally was right handed, but since he’d lost his right arm in battle before being kicked into a wormhole, his muscle memory was a little odd. Percy Dagger had saved his life when he’d appeared on Earthland and made him a new prosthetic arm. While it functioned mostly the same as a real arm, sometimes it felt like it didn’t belong. He still got ghost pains and sensations too. So when it came to things his muscles would have remembered, the prosthetic was different enough that there was a slight disconnect. It didn’t happen too often, but more than once he had knocked a drink off a table by misjudging where his hand was.

    During his training days, every Marmor had been forced to become ambidextrous in battle. Though it had been a while since he’d thrown with his left, Dagda wanted to give it a shot. What was there to lose? Preparing his throw, the titan drew his arm back and then threw the axe with great force. It flew towards the target, but the handle hit instead of the blade.

    Dagda frowned a bit. His spins were off, that wouldn’t do. It had become his goal in the few minutes since starting to make it all the way to the end of the lanes. The longest one was calling his name. He’d have to brush up on his skills on the way there.

    Another throw and the spin was better, but still off. The top edge of the axe left a mark on the wood, but ended up bouncing off. Again and again the titan threw the axe and retrieved it, working quickly to get comfortable with his throws. At last, he hit the target square in the middle, the weapon lodging deep into the wood and causing it to swing steadily.

    “Yes!” Dagda cheered. It wasn’t but a few seconds before he had moved on to the next lane. It took a few turns to land the target, and he was off to the next. The giant of a man made his way up to the final lane one by one, making quick work of the growing distances. He was becoming a better judge of how much power it took to make it to the center of the target.

    At last, he stood before the last lane. It had been about thirty minutes since he started. The target looked tiny, being a good 80 yards out. Looking behind him, Dagda realized he had amassed a small crowd of employees as an audience. Their chatter ceased when he turned to give them a look and a smile. In the distance, a group of extremely muscular men stood in a circle talking. One of them was the dark bodybuilder from earlier, axe still on his back. They had just finished with the professional competition and were hanging out to escape from crazy fans. Dagda felt the piercing gaze of the muscular man on his back as he turned towards the target. There were scrutinous professional eyes on him, so he had to give them a show.

    Taking a few steps back from the throwing line, Dagda closed his eyes. With a few deep breaths, he calmed himself. Focus flowed in like water and he was ready. Opening his eyes again, the titan drew his arm back. Closing the distance to the throwing line with a few steps, he used that momentum to hurl the axe with all his might at the far away target. He leaned into the throw to give it that extra boost.

    The weapon flew true, spinning at the perfect pace and heading right for the center. The blade sunk into the wood in the middle, the force causing it to swing violently. Dagda let out a triumphant laugh. He’d done it! He’d completed the challenge! The employees clapped politely. The titan caught the eye of the muscle man in the distance. A glance and an impressed nod was sent his way. Dagda felt elated.

    The grin didn’t leave Dagda’s face. He looked around for Cillian, and upon spotting his silver-haired companion, trotted over. “How did your axe throwing go?” he asked, not wanting to just talk about his own experience right off the bat and seem like he was bragging. While he was proud of his accomplishment, the titan didn’t let that overtake him.
    IVYLEAF33



    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Cillian duCrosse
    Cillian duCrosse

    Player 
    Lineage : Reaper's Touch
    Position : None
    Posts : 126
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 25,562

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Necrothurgy
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Cillian duCrosse 5th September 2020, 11:01 pm

    Even though my life hasn't been all that great

      1648/3881 WORDS
     8695/14,000 TOTAL
     
    @Dagda
     
    THEME SONG
     
    I have seen war, famine; witnessed the genocide. Have seen the changes in human nature and history, and I am still here, standing alone. Til the end, I will be there too. To witness the endless carnage, to live this harsh reality. Cause I have been cursed, Cursed with immortality.
    Cillian, being the unobservant doofus that he was, didn’t see, hear, or otherwise notice the commotion as some festival celebrity was all but paraded through the grounds. Even if he had still been standing beside Dagda, he likely wouldn’t have spared the hulking man a second glance, far more interested in what there was to do than who else was there to do it with them. He rarely paid much attention to his surroundings outside of what his tunnel vision allowed him, and he really wasn’t the type of person to get awestruck by the presence of another person of renown anyway. He suggested the axe throwing competition, completely ignorant to the moment that had just struck Dagda, who accepted the suggestion immediately, and off they went.

    The lankier man followed Dagda to the throwing grounds, where they observed that there were two separate lines. They followed the line to the left which was for the non-professionals that were looking for a little instruction or perhaps just to have fun and not take the game too seriously. Inside, they were offered a number of possible selections for axes with varying sizes and weights. Like his new companion, Cillian browsed the options until he found the one that appealed to him. It was a little smaller, but had a nice heavy weight to it, so he felt he could throw it pretty easily and well without its size causing any resistance through the air.

    Once they were set, the two made their way out to the throwing lanes where an attendant inquired how they wanted to proceed. Dagda requested the beginning lane, and Cillian followed suit. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Same here.” He stood back and let Dagda go first, watching the larger man hurl the weapon across the several feet of space to the log target. The target split into pieces on impact, and the necromancer’s eyes went wide as saucers in shock. Then, he keeled over laughing, barely standing on his feet as he clutched his belly with his hand. “Holy fuck, that was amazing!” It was all he could say between his deep bellied giggling, shameless in showing just how entertained he was by the slip.

    Dagda sheepishly suggested that he perhaps start a few lanes further down where the distance would take the edge of his mighty throwing arm. “Probably a good idea, bud,” Cillian said, wiping a few tears from his eyes. “Oh man, that’s gonna entertain me the rest of the day.” He waited patiently for the attendants to reset the target. Thankfully, in a world full of magic, they knew enough to at least be prepared for a target to be destroyed like that, even if it wasn’t a regular occurrence. They had more than enough spare stumps to replace the splintered one with. It took only a few minutes for them to pick up most of the other pieces and set the new target in place.

    “Alright, everyone stand back. This is gonna be awful.”

    Aiming as best as he knew how, he hurled the axe forward. A little too much strength had been put into the throw, however, and the weapon went soaring way past the target and into the grass beyond. “Oops. My bad.” Cillian waited as an attendant recovered the item and brought it back to him, giving him a couple tips to throw with a little more precision. Setting himself up, he aimed and threw once more, this time with the axe lodging itself into the side of the log, loosely but still properly stuck.

    Moving on to the next one which was a little bit further away, he performed the same movements just with a little more power to cover the slightly increased distance. Twice his axe slapped against the log with the blade or handle without sticking. One the third one, he got it in. It was tough work, but fun. Cillian was having to exercise muscles and techniques he hadn’t used in a long, long time. There had been a period of his life where he had been taught this skill among many others. However, it had been so long since he’d regularly practiced or used any of that long lost education that he might as well have been a brand new novice making his first throws.

    He got slightly more consistent as the lanes went on, but really didn’t get that much better than how he started. Most lanes took him a few throws to get the axe lodged in the log. However, he never really seemed to have an issue with the increasing distance. The weightier but smaller axe was quite easy for him to toss down the lanes, and despite not being overly bulged with muscle like his friend was, he was stronger than he appeared to be on the surface. Still, just cause he could cover that distance didn’t mean that he had the technique to make it stick, so it took him several tries on each lane to get the desired result.

    In the end, however, that didn’t really seem to mean much to him. Cillian was happy enough just getting to hunk a sharp piece of metal across the grass and be a goof, clearly not all too interested in getting the method down. By the time he got to the end where Dagda was, the larger man was already done and looking quite pleased with himself. As before, Cillian really wasn’t paying that much attention to anything outside of what was in front of him, so he never noticed the professionals on the other field watching them, nor the moment of respect that passed between Dagda and the popular contestant.

    “Well, I didn’t kill anyone by accident or obliterate a target in one go, so I call that a win,” Cillian said with an impish, toothy grin as the man asked how his throwing had gone. “It took me a few throws on most of the lanes, but I ain’t exactly lookin’ to break any records or nothin’. It was a nice warm up, something to loosen up the muscles for some of the other challenges. I do like this axe though. I wonder if they’d let me buy it after their competitions are over.” He lifted the thing up and turned it over gently in his hand, giving it a light swing just to feel the weight of it one more time before handing it to the attendant to put back.

    Once that was done and the weapons had been returned, the two men elected to stroll around the festival grounds to get a better look and see what all was there. All sorts of games and competitions lined the fields, from archery and shotput, to weight lifting and tire flipping. There was a grease pole, and a number of gladiatorial pits that looked like a ton of fun. It was honestly a bit difficult to figure out what they wanted to do next.

    Not to mention, Cillian kept getting distracted by other smaller things along the way. It was a good thing they weren’t in any hurries and had practically the whole day to get their fill of the games, because Cillian’s nose called him off the forward path several times at the scent of this pastry or that snack. He stopped several times whenever he noticed something he’d never tried before, or something he loved or hadn’t had in a long time. There were regular comments from him along the lines of, “Shit, do you smell that?” and almost every time he bought something for himself he also bought one for Dagda, getting the sense that the larger man was about as much of a foodie as he was.

    What actually caught his attention the most, however, was the drinks. There was a lot of alcohol present, and from what he could tell many of the games were letting people play even if intoxicated, so long as it wasn’t one that would be dangerous such as axe throwing. It took him almost no time at all to get a pretty decent buzz going that caused him to be even more giggly and excitable than usual. “Ooo, what about that one,” he said, pointing toward a game that appeared to be a wrestling station in a mud pit. “We have to do that one. Ain’t nothin’ manlier at a manly man fest than throwing hands with another guy in vat of mother nature’s finest.”

    He grinned up at Dagda, his cheeks a little pink from the alcohol but otherwise showing no signs of being overly intoxicated or otherwise incapable of participating in a brawl. Presuming Dagda was amenable, Cillian giggled with excitement and lead the charge to the station, where they patiently waited their turn and cheered on the other participants before them along with the rest of the currently gathered crowd. Unlike the last competition, he was much more invested in watching other participants here, finding more interest in the constant action and displays of pure, unadulterated brawn.

    Before long, it was their turn. They were led into a small stall where they were able to exchange their own clothes for cheap borrowed ones so they didn’t have to ruin their personal attire in the mud. Cillian replaced his jeans with a set of plain white pants that fit a little more loosely than his normal look. He made his way out into the pit, eagerly awaiting for Dagda to join him. And once both were ready, he stepped into the ankle high mudpit and crouched down into a ready stance, his fingers wiggling with excitement as the two men faced off against one another. “Now, I know you’re a lot bigger than me and I’m a little drunk, but don’t you go easy on me! I wanna see what you got..!”  
    I figure that if I live long enough, something good might happen.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Dagda
    Dagda

    Richie Rich- Rich- Player 
    Lineage : Warrior's Heart
    Position : None
    Posts : 156
    Guild : Meliora Vitae [GM]
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Experience : 34,736

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Leviathan
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Dagda 6th September 2020, 10:40 pm

    Rolling for wrestling outcome~

    1: Cillian wins outright
    2: Dagda wins outright
    3: Neither wins
    4: Cillian wins via last minute comeback
    5: Dagda wins via last minute comeback
    6: Reroll


    Last edited by Dagda on 6th September 2020, 10:40 pm; edited 1 time in total


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    NPC
    NPC

    Posts : 23620
    Mentor : Admin

    Character Sheet
    First Magic:
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by NPC 6th September 2020, 10:40 pm

    The member 'Dagda' has done the following action : Dice Rolls


    'Normal Dice' :
    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Die_05_42162_sm
    Dagda
    Dagda

    Richie Rich- Rich- Player 
    Lineage : Warrior's Heart
    Position : None
    Posts : 156
    Guild : Meliora Vitae [GM]
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Experience : 34,736

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Leviathan
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Dagda 7th September 2020, 12:07 am

    Space Dad
    Dagda
    Just call it an adventure and it ain’t so bad!
    Job: Free Form
    Post Word Count: 1,464
    Job Word Count: 10,159/14,000
    Muse: Daddy/10
    Music: Bakin’
    Items Used IC/OOC: Item 1, Item 2
    Active Spells: Spell 1 (Duration: x/x)
    ”That sounds like a win to me!” Dagda replied, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled. Cillian seemed to be having fun even if he hadn’t been super focused on beating all the lanes. Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying enough attention to see how far the other man got. With the serious eight-pack he was showing, he must have done fairly well. At least both ended up in good spirits at the end!

    “We’ll have to make a stop back by here and see if they’re selling the axes later.” Dagda really wanted to keep his axe too. The weight and the way the weapon handled felt right in his hands. Whoever had smithed such a creation must have been very skilled. He didn’t have much money at the moment, but it would be a worthy purchase. That was, if they were even selling the axes at all. The two would just have to find out later.

    For now, they returned the weapons to the racks. Then they were off exploring more! There was so much they had yet to see. At first, they passed more strength competitions. The options were endless. People of all types, though mostly men, strained and grunted and sweated as they exerted their top strength. Faces were red, boots muddy, veins showing. If combined, the strength exerted by everyone would be enough to topple cities. It was impressive. There was so much to pick from for competitions and games that the two evaded that section for the time being. There were other areas to visit first.

    As they went along, Cillian skipped off to a random booth that caught his interest. Dagda, though, didn’t notice anything special about it until he got up close. First he had to find which way the silver-topped man went. Upon approaching the booth, he realized it contained food which looked quite delicious. But the fact that Cillian picked this place out from a distance with no clear advertising or attracting element baffled him. How did he find this obscure little pastry booth?

    The obvious answer smacked him in the face when Cillian said something about the delicious scents of food all around. Dagda didn’t have a sense of smell anymore, he’d lost it as a kid. The day had been quite traumatic for the little Marmor. He’d run off in pursuit of a small bird and ended up at the mercy of a Golden Bear, the enormous grizzly-like species that roamed the highlands of Tetsukazu. Luckily his father and other Marmor had intervened, but Dagda was left with some scars on his body and a large one that spanned the bridge of his nose. While the skin healed, his sense of smell was gone for good. It had been tough to adapt as a child, but in recent times he had been alone so much that the lack of sense was a normality and he forgot others had it. He cursed himself gently for forgetting.

    It was too late to mention it to his friend. Cillian had already whisked off to another food booth. The two bounced around as many of the vendors as they could. More often than not, Dagda was gifted a bite to eat by the smaller man. Cillian had guessed correctly that the titan was very much into food. Even if he couldn’t smell it, he was willing to try everything once. If anything, his lack of smell made his taste more adventurous. There was no precursor to warn him of what a dish contained, so it was like opening a mystery box each time.

    Cillian seemed to be engaging in the alcohol as well. It was plentiful, from wines to whiskies, and the tap was flowing nonstop. Dagda partook in it as well, though he tended to stick to bourbons and beers after doing some taste testing. He hadn’t had nearly as much as Cillian when the mud wrestling game was suggested with enthusiasm. It took a lot for such a large being to become imbibed, though he had a decent buzz going.

    The suggestion brought a laugh from Dagda. “Oh hell yeah, let’s do it!” he cheered, following his companion to the end of the line. They waited their turn, onlookers to the current matches going on. Whoops and hollers came from them and the others in the queue as wrestlers struggled back and forth, fell in the mud, or won. At last they were accepted in by the employees despite their buzzed state. Perhaps it wasn’t noticeable, or perhaps the staff just didn’t care. Either way, they were in!

    The two were led into little stalls, where they were given a pair of cheap cotton pants to put on. Their street clothes were stored in bags and hung off to the side for them to collect when the match was done. Dagda had to duck to get into the stall and hunched over as he switched into the wrestling pants, which ended up being too small. An employee rushed in upon his request for a bigger pair and quickly used a tailoring spell to stretch out the fabric to fit. This wasn’t unusual for Dagda. At a faux wedding job he had taken months ago, he’d hit his head on the ceiling of their fitting room trying to force the pants over his butt and had to have his entire suit refitted because of his size.

    Emerging from his stall, Dagda saw Cillian already near one of the mud pits. He approached, a grin of excitement covering his face. The fire of competition kindled in his chest and he felt energy filling his body. The two stepped into the mud and got into ready stances with their fists in front of them protectively. Dagda felt the cool mud sliding between his toes and felt comforted. Even if this wasn’t Tetsukazu, his earthborn spirit allowed him to feel connected to the ground below. This was going to be epic. The chef mentioned his slightly imbibed state and encouraged Dagda to give it his all.

    “If you say so,” he responded. A wolfish smile crossed the titan’s face as the referee began to explain. They would do best of five rounds, the winner being the first to get to three or the one to break a 2-2 tie. A round was won when one of the players was knocked down in the mud and held down for a few seconds. The countdown began. “Three, two, one, GO!”

    Dagda lunged forward, or at least tried to. His feet slid separate ways through the muck. Large arms swung wildly to keep his balance. This mud was unlike any he had experienced before. It was either magically enhanced to be slipperier or they had added a little oil in with the dirt. He struggled to regain his balance. Once he felt like he had a bit of a grip with his feet, he moved towards Cillian. With one swinging lunge, he grabbed his friend’s bicep. Pulling him closer, Dagda managed to get a grip on his thigh too, then lifted the man up out of the mud. He slipped, bringing the two crashing down into the mud. Blinking to free his eyes of mud flecks, the titan scrambled towards Cillian and pinned him in the mud. His chest rose and fell as the ref counted down the seconds of the pin. Dagda was the winner of the round!

    The two returned to their sides of the pit. Both were streaked with mud, their pants and skin caked in brown. Dagda winked at his companion as the next countdown ended, then lunged in low for his legs. After struggling back and forth in the muck for a few minutes like two weird swamp monsters, Dagda got the final pin. He was on a winning streak! Just one more and he would be the champion. Cillian seemed to come back with a better strategy, though, because he won the next two rounds with swift and savage pins. It was like having whiplash, one minute Dagda was winning and the next, the two were tied 2-2.

    Standing across from each other, Dagda was panting. He wiped away a glob of mud that was threatening to drip into his eye. There was lots of slipping and sliding going on, not to mention large splashes of mud that even reached some of the people watching. No part of this challenge was easy, and the titan was feeling the effects already. He’d used leg muscles that hadn’t been used since his training days and now his knees and calves were starting to burn with the effort of keeping himself balanced.

    “Last one! Think you got what it takes?” Dagda called out, taunting his friend playfully.
    IVYLEAF33





    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Cillian duCrosse
    Cillian duCrosse

    Player 
    Lineage : Reaper's Touch
    Position : None
    Posts : 126
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 25,562

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Necrothurgy
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Cillian duCrosse 7th September 2020, 2:43 pm

    Even though my life hasn't been all that great

      2264/6145 WORDS
    12,423/14,000 TOTAL
     
    @Dagda
     
    THEME SONG
     
    I have seen war, famine; witnessed the genocide. Have seen the changes in human nature and history, and I am still here, standing alone. Til the end, I will be there too. To witness the endless carnage, to live this harsh reality. Cause I have been cursed, Cursed with immortality.
    For someone who found it really easy to join up with random strangers and get along with just about everyone he met, it was a wonder why Cillian didn’t have more friends. Or at least, more real ones. He had plenty of surface value friends, ones that he’d be happy to run into again or even make some time to see them if they reached out, but most of those people he never really took the time to get to know all too well or make the effort to reach out to them of his own volition. When your lifespan had been stretched for an indefinite amount of time as his had, a lot of things became fleeting. Relationships of any kind, pressure to achieve personal goals, the general machinations and expectations of society at large… really, the only thing that had stuck was food. Food was the one consistent in his life that certainly changed its forms and flavors over the centuries, but never its level of satisfaction. If anything, the evolution of food over the last several centuries was part of what made food continue to be such a source of inspiration and comfort for him.

    And that was probably why, out of all the types of games and activities present at most festivals such as the one they were currently at, the food booths were always the top priority for him. His taste buds had become so honed over the years that he could practically pinpoint and design every single bit of herbs or spices, most ingredients, in near about every dish he tried. Truth be told, he probably was better off as a judge in cooking competitions more than a cook, but as much as he loved to eat he simply felt more alive when he was making the creations himself.

    He brought stuff to Dagda regularly each time he bought some kind of tasty morsel, and the larger man proved Cillian’s earlier assumptions correct by eagerly partaking in each piece brought back to him. Since the man never said anything, Cillian had no idea he couldn’t smell. The two were quite content to spend a bit of time meandering from food stall to food stall trying some of near about every dish known to man. And it seemed that both of them had the stomachs to withstand the constant intake of food, despite the fact that Dagda had already eaten during the contest and despite the fact that Cillian’s stomach was so skinny and flat one wondered if he could hold much food at all.

    In addition to the food, his new buddy was quite eager to try a lot of alcohol with him too. While Dagda stuck mostly to beers and bourbons, Cillian was happy and willing to try just about everything from wines and meads to beers, whiskey, rum, and more. By the end, both men were feeling pretty damn good. One could easily assume just by looking up at Dagda that he took an awful lot for a man with as much muscle mass as he had to get plastered. On the flip side, Cillian seemed the type to be a bit of a lightweight, but given how much more he had consumed than even Dagda, the fact that he wasn’t falling over onto his face every five seconds or passed out on a bale of hay was a testament to just how much of a tolerance the man had built up the last four hundred years.

    Luckily, having a ton to drink was literally part of the whole experience of the Manly Man Festival, so no one really batted a look at either man, even the attendants in charge of the games. It may have been different if they’d gone for archery or something arguably more dangerous, but a lot of the gladiatorial events were pretty harmless and as such the workers were fine with competitors being intoxicated. If anything, it made the events a lot more fun to watch. So, off they went to the wrestling corner, patiently waiting in line for their turn before being allowed to exchange their street clothes for borrowed pants.

    The mud was certainly thick and slippery. It actually felt pretty good, like he was getting ready to take a mud bath at a spa, which honestly wasn’t far from the truth. By the time this was over, both men were going to be covered from head to toe in the dark substance, and from the looks of the faces on the small crowd around them most people were not going to be complaining about that. Cillian expressed his desire for Dagda to give him his all, and to pay no mind to his level of intoxication. It wouldn’t be fun if both men didn’t go all out, and frankly Cillian was the type to have fun whether he won or lost. With an appreciative grin, the larger man agreed to the request, and they both crouched down and made themselves ready for the referee to cue them.

    At the sound of the count down, both men lurched forward and immediately almost lost their balance. “Woop..!” Cillian exclaimed with a wide eyed expression as his feet slipped out from under him and he had to use one of his hands to keep himself upright, planting it in the mug in front of him. The lanky man looked up to see Dagda in a similar predicament and started giggling. “Boy, they made this stuff real slick, didn’t they?” They managed to get themselves upright and steady once more, but Dagda was the quicker to recover, reaching across the distance to snatch Cillian by the arm and dragging him over.

    “Ack!” With one hand on Cillian’s arm and another on his thigh, Dagda hoisted the thinner man up into the air and them promptly slipped, causing both men to fall flat into the mud. Cillian was laughing hard as he tried to scramble back to his feet, his body feeling heavier from the added weight of the mud clinging to him. Dagda once again recovered more quickly, throwing himself on top of the giggling man long enough to earn the first pin. The referee called the round and both men disentangled themselves from one another, laughing and wiping the excess mud from their eyes.

    The second round went about as much the same, although this time Cillian was a little more prepared for facing Dagda’s strength first hand. When the round started, however, Cillian wasn’t expecting the change in tactics as Dagda charged low rather than high, aiming to take Cillian’s legs out from underneath him. The crimson eyed man put up a better fight this round at least, giving the larger man some resistance as he bent low and wrapped his long arms around Dagda’s waist from above, hoping to find some leverage there while the larger man attacked his legs. It wasn’t easy, for either of them. The mud was so slippery that both wound up losing their grips quite a number of time, and it very quickly became apparent they they were going to be spending the remainder of the wrestling match more or less just wildly and chaotically rubbing their muddied bodies together.

    This was much to the delight of the crowd, which had grown quite a bit when neither man was paying attention. There were a lot of women in the crowd cheering both men on and giggling to each other over with hushed whispers over the sight of two very handsome, very physically fit, half naked men covered in slick mud and crawling all over each other. iLacs were out in force taking photos and video, and not just from the ladies. There was a fair share of men present too that watched the event with looks more curious than just being interested in the sport for the sake of sport.

    By the time the second round ended, Cillian felt he had finally gotten a good feel for Dagda’s strength and methods. He was a very large man that was likely used to being able to over power most foes. However, Cillian was slippery even when not covered in mud, exceptionally agile, and much stronger than his thin body would otherwise suggest. So while Dagda was feeling pretty confident and riding the high of two consecutive wins, Cillian decided to step up and show that he was not going to be so easily beaten.

    At round three, Dagda came at him again, but Cillian had prepared his footing well enough so that when the bigger man lunged forward he could easily side step around him, moving out of the direct path of the lunge only to hook his arms around Dagda’s waist. Jamming his shoulder up against the man’s stomach, Cillian used his legs to lift Dagda up into the air before twisting and dropping him on his back right into the mud with Cillian on top of him. As with the last round, the two men scrambled to dominance, spurred on by the suspiciously feminine cheers of the crowd. However, Cillian proved a little too wiley to keep a hold on, managing to slip out of Dagda’s grips time and again until he pinned the bigger man and won a round for himself.

    Round four went about as well for Cillian, who felt he was starting to reach his stride. They launched at each other and once again Cillian used his superior agility and smaller frame to keep himself from getting locked into any holds that would doom him to a third and final loss. The round lasted for a minute or so with both men struggling for dominance before Cillian secured a second win of his own, bringing the score to an even two wins across and pointing them toward a tie breaker round.

    They returned to their separate sides, and Cillian was pleased to discover that both of them were pretty exhausted. It was a testament to how hard both of them were working to win the game, both men having loads of fun but also not going easy on each other. Cillian lungs felt like they were on fire. It wasn’t often that he got into the thick of fighting himself as most of the time he had his zombies and skeletons and spirits to fight for him, but he did still like to get his exercise.

    He grinned as Dagda teased him. “Eh, you’re not so tough,” he taunted back, his words clearly a lie as the two of them had gone through quite the ordeal trying to take one another down. The referee called the final round, and the crowd was charged with energy and excitement. Cillian was pretty sure he heard a few bets being placed. Once the countdown ended, the two men threw themselves at one another one last time. Cillian lunged to the side to throw the larger man off, trying to come at him from the side, but by now Dagda had figured out a few of Cillian’s tricks and was able to recover quite quickly. They wound up in a hand lock, each pressing back against the other in an attempt to get control.

    Unfortunately, Dagda’s strength was superior and Cillian could quickly feel himself slipping. Rather than fight it, he took the path of least resistance and suddenly started pulling instead of pushing, yanking Dagda off balance as Cillian fell backward into the pit. Tucking his knees to his chest, he caught Dagda’s own chest with his feet and rolled backward, forcing the bigger guy to flip over Cillian’s head and into the mud where Cillian managed to make his way on top and started looking for enough purchase to pin him. They wriggled and wrangled for at least a minute to the utter roar of the crowd, and Cillian knew he was winning. If he could just get a decent hold on the man, it would all be set in stone…

    Somehow, the victory that had seemed so sure got ripped from him in the blink of an eye. Cillian wasn’t entirely sure how Dagda had managed it, but he felt one of his knees get dislodged from the ground and before he knew it he was being flipped onto his back with a surprised yelp. At that point, all it took was for Dagda to more or less smother him with his entire bulk, trapping Cillian’s arms and preventing him from being able to turn the tide back around. A few seconds later, he had been successfully pinned and the referee called the match with Dagda as the winner three out of five rounds.

    Even after Dagda got up, Cillian continued to lay in the mud for a few seconds giggling to himself. “That was awesome,” he said, grinning from ear to ear and thoroughly pleased. “Well won!” Somehow, he managed to yank himself out of the mud and the two men made their way over to the makeshift shower stalls the event had set up toward the exit of the mud pit. Cillian grabbed his bag on the way over, still giggling and clapping Dagda on the shoulder in excited and congratulatory fashion. Then he stepped into the small stall and pulled the curtain shut behind him, hanging the bag with his clothes in it up on a hook. He stripped off the dirty pants, putting them into a basket that had been placed i there for the dirtied items and stepped under the water to start scrubbing himself clean.    
    I figure that if I live long enough, something good might happen.


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    Dagda
    Dagda

    Richie Rich- Rich- Player 
    Lineage : Warrior's Heart
    Position : None
    Posts : 156
    Guild : Meliora Vitae [GM]
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Experience : 34,736

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Leviathan
    Second Magic:
    Third Magic:

    ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian] Empty Re: ♜ The Manly Man Fest! ♜ [w/ Cillian]

    Post by Dagda 7th September 2020, 7:44 pm

    This post reflects the total word count for the thread, all other posts' total word count is off.

    Current Total Word Count: 14,005/14,000

    Space Dad
    Dagda
    Just call it an adventure and it ain’t so bad!
    Job: Free Form
    Post Word Count: 1,600
    Job Word Count: 14,005/14,000
    Muse: Daddy/10
    Music: Bakin’
    Items Used IC/OOC: Item 1, Item 2
    Active Spells: Spell 1 (Duration: x/x)
    Dagda felt his heart pounding in his ears as he pressed Cillian into the mud for the final time. He leaned his whole weight down to pin his opponent’s arms to his sides, restricting any movement by sheer force of gravity. The ref began the countdown. Dagda’s chest rose and fell swiftly as he started catching his breath. He could feel thick mud coating his skin, hardening in his hair, and even could taste the grit in his mouth. Just a few more seconds…

    ...and it was over. He had won! It felt like a miracle that he did. In the third and fourth rounds, Cillian had beaten him with a surprising strength and agility. He was slickened by mud and sly as a weasel, slipping out of Dagda’s grasp and moving in ways the titan couldn’t. At first it had frustrated him, coming off the high of two victories, but he grew to respect and understand those wiley tactics. He’d tried to outmaneuver Cillian, but in the end it was a last resort move that flipped the chef off balance and gave Dagda a winning shot.

    Laughing with his friend, Dagda couldn’t wipe the grin from his mud-splattered face. Mud wrestling was so much fun! The competition, the physical exertion, getting mud in places he didn’t even know it could reach. This was a fantastic way to spend one’s time. The thrill of fun and victory felt so great. As he looked down at the man in the mud, Dagda felt an almost brotherly fondness for him. What better way to become close with a man than to wrestle body to body with him in slimy mud?

    Another round of cheers broke through his train of thought. Looking around, Dagda’s jaw dropped when he realized just how large of a crowd they had attracted. The majority were women, but there were a decent number of men too. Many people had their iLacs out, taking photos and videos of the muddy contestants. Shrill voices called out to them to ask for a kiss or a photo. Apparently their muddy wrestling had attracted others who were now their biggest fans. Dagda felt odd being treated as a celebrity, but he was glad others were having a good time.

    “Thanks,” Dagda replied as Cillian piped up from the mud. “That was a blast, I had no idea mud wrestling was so fun!” The two headed towards the shower stalls to clean up, the dismayed cries from their new fans at their departure fading behind them. Cillian clapped him on the shoulder and headed off to shower. Dagda found his own bag of clothes and managed to squeeze into a stall himself. He hung his bag off the door and turned to look at the shower. A slight frown covered his face. There was no way he could get all the mud off like this! His knees had to be bent to be able to get his mud-covered head under the showerhead.

    The titan decided to modify the shower just a bit. Through his feet, he could sense where the pipes were in the earth. Widening his stance, Dagda clenched his hands into sturdy fists and put one on top of the other. Sharply, he raised the top fist and hit it down on the other. As his bottom fist took the impact, the earth beneath his feet mirrored it and dropped down about two feet. This was an ancient technique called earthbending, where one used a solid stance and hand movements to control the earth around them. He’d effectively made the shower, drain, and pipes sit lower in the ground. Now he fit perfectly under the flowing water and was able to clean off quickly and easily.

    When he was done, Dagda returned the shower floor to its original height and emerged from the stall clothed again, rubbing a hand through his wet hair. He was born with thick hair so it would take a while to dry. For now, the black and white strands just stood up in uneven spikes. Looking around, he spotted Cillian waiting by the entrance. An employee was fending off a few members of the crowd that had found their way over. They begged for autographs or to touch the men’s abs. With the number of women there, the two would never be able to slip out unnoticed. It would be best just to appease them now and try to leave unbothered.

    An employee appeared between the two men, beckoning them closer. “Here are your medals, sirs,” he said with a strained smile. “Both are gold because we ran out of silver medals today. You’re both winners today, apparently.” Without another word, he abruptly walked off. Dagda raised his eyebrows and glanced at Cillian. “How about that, we both won according to these!” Slipping the ribbon around his neck, he observed the shiny metal for a moment. What a great way to commemorate the day.

    He turned back to the hectic ladies, who were louder now that he had appeared. “Ladies,” Dagda called out, approaching with his hands up in front of his chest. “We can’t hang out with you today.” His words were met with sobs and cries of despair. “Woah, wait, I’m not done. We can sign some stuff but we have somewhere to be.” Clapping his hands together, he looked to Cillian with a grin. This wouldn’t take too long.

    After taking pictures with some of them and signing others notebooks or hands, the two were free to go. Luckily, the fans were too busy squealing over the pictures to notice that the two had left. “One of them asked me to sign her breast,” Dagda told Cillain with a chuckle. He had denied the request, but the thought was amusing anyway. The wildness of these ladies was unlike anything he had seen before. The women of the Marmor were tough as nails, hard to woo, and took no bullshit from anyone. Dagda thought of his late wife, Adamina. She would have found the pure obsession and desperation of these fans amusing. If she were here, she would have challenged the titan to every contest and tried to beat him. Hell, she would have succeeded more often than not. He was struck with a pang of longing.

    Bittersweet thoughts were brushed away. Dagda couldn’t afford to let his woeful feelings chase away the great mood he was in today. Spotting a booth with a game of balloon popping, he led Cillian over. This was a game he’d seen at the winter festival he had attended a while ago. To win, one had to pop three balloons minimum with the six darts they were given. Prizes of all sorts lined the table and the overhang above.

    “It’s fifty jewel to pla-” the attendant began, but stopped when he noticed their medals. “Oh! Nevermind, then. Contest winners play free.” Handing them each six darts, he stepped aside to watch them play. Dagda held up one of the darts, trying to line it up with a balloon, closing one eye and sticking his tongue out to the side subconsciously. Finding his aim, he let fly. Pop! He got one!

    The titan ended up with four out of six darts popping balloons. The attendant skittered up, telling him that the prize options were hung in the second row from the roof. There were many options, from toy dinosaurs to plushies to bubble blowing kits. After pondering for a minute, Dagda selected a plush snowman toy. It seemed out of place, but it reminded him of Danny, Sammy, and Armi, his friends that he had met at the winter festival. Next time he saw them, he would make sure to give the plushie to Sammy.

    With the dart game done, the two strolled through the paths of the Manly Man Festival. It was getting to be evening, the light turning golden over the trees of Magnolia. Many of the children were leaving, but there were still many night activities to take up the dark hours. Dagda saw a sign for bingo in an hour, and a group that passed by mentioned a beer taste test happening shortly. Other gladiatorial contests were still ongoing. The titan saw the greased pole one as they passed by. A contestant had made it to the top only to slide all the way back down to the bottom in one go.

    “Man, that looks fun,” Dagda said wistfully, “But I’m beat after that mud wrestling. Who knew sliding around could be so exhausting?” His muscles felt sore as he walked, and he knew it would be worse the next day.

    “What do you say we get some grub and check out what’s going on at the main stage? I hear cheering.” Dagda’s suggestion was accompanied by a glance towards the center of the park. A crowd could be heard as well as an indistinct announcer. Assuming Cillain would agree, they headed towards a large tent that had signs touting the best barbecue sauce in all of Magnolia. Pictures of a winking pig adorned everything from the employees aprons to the napkins that were given once the two got their meals.

    Heading towards the stage, Dagda glanced at Cillain. “Hey, thanks for hangin’ out with me today. It was lots of fun, more than I’ve had in a long while. Would you want to come next year with me? Maybe you’ll beat me at mud wrestling next time.” The last remark was accompanied by a gentle, playful punch to Cillain’s arm and a teasing grin.
    IVYLEAF33



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      Current date/time is 19th January 2022, 7:02 pm