• Closed • Food, glorious food!

Here are all threads from before the Fall of Emea in 719 and all threads pertaining to the Fall. As of Ymiden 719 (1st June 2019), this forum is locked for new threads and is a repository for old content.

Moderator: Staff

User avatar
Oberan
Peer Reviewer
Peer Reviewer
Posts: 830
Joined: Fri Jul 28, 2017 6:32 pm
Race: Mortal Born
Profession: Full time nuisance
Renown: 292
Character Sheet
Plot Notes
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Food, glorious food!


The 91st of Ymiden 718

How long had it been?

How long since he’d had a meal?

Trials?

No, no, impossible. It felt way longer than that. When had his rations run out? When had he last looked in that crate, only to be greeted by emptiness? No dried foods. No salted foods. No foods preserved in brine. Nothing but wooden boards, sand, and splinters. And dried algae that’d been stuck to the crate. He’d tried eating those, but it’d only made him sick. It had come hurling out not too much later, stomach contracting painfully, squeezing every drop out of him.

On his knees, coughing and struggling to breathe between assaults from inside. No tears flowing from his eyes, no snot running from his nose –there wasn’t enough water contained in his body for those things. Just groaning and grunting and coughing and the pain of his stomach tying itself into complicated knots. At last, something came out, little more than a small trickle, bitter enough to cause his dried-up tongue to writhe and squirm. Bitter enough to make his disused taste buds cry out bloody murder, burning as if he’d hurled up molten rock.

Not even several handfuls of sand had been able to wash the taste away. Not even gulping down salty seawater had been enough to wash the taste away.

He shivered at the memory, the rough bark of the palm tree scraping his back. Standing had become too tiring. Exhausting himself would do him no good at all. He needed to survive as long as possible, remain conscious as much as possible. Speeding up the process was going to cut off his suffering faster, yes, but his life would be over. Any chances of being rescued, anything he still wanted to do and accomplish – all thrown out of the window.

It was still so damn hot too. Even in the shadow, the heat still got to him. Made him see things that weren’t there. Made him feel light in the head, made him lose consciousness from time to time, gave him headaches. He knew it was time to drink some water when that happened, but all bottles were empty. No water left. No sweat, no urine. It had been quite a while since he’d done either of those. Just like he hadn’t been able to poop after his food had ran out.

People really didn’t appreciate excreting waste until they were unable to do it anymore. It felt so wrong not to have to go. It would have been convenient in many circumstances in the past, but now that he didn’t have anything to do, he really missed it.

He wasn’t sure when exactly he noticed the large slab of meat that had washed onto the shore of his little island. How long had it been laying there, half on the sand, half in the water? It must have been soaked, its texture deteriorating, the mass absorbing too much moisture to make for a good mouthfeel.

Didn’t stop him from tearing right into it like a wild beast, ripping the cloth away so he could get to the part that would sustain him. Sinking his teeth right into it, tearing off chunks while growling, stomach rumbling happily now the prospect of a meal had been introduced. Meat after a fast, after starvation. A dream come true. Drool mixed with juices and blood as he chewed and chewed and chewed, swallowing as soon as the morsel was small enough to pass through his throat. In his haste he’d not bothered to wait long enough, actually feeling his esophagus force the food down to his belly. It hurt, pulling and scraping, but he didn’t care, too hungry, to ecstatic.

More, more! He wanted more! Digging in with his hands, pulling open the hole he’d made with his teeth, getting hold of a bone. Dragging it out, five fingers around it in a vice, the others providing leverage against the sand. Not enough. He straddled it, pressing it down with his body weight while he tugged at the bone with both hands, using his back.

Something audibly tore inside.

Encouraged, he increased his efforts and was rewarded by the snapping sound of splintering bone. Hands bloody, pale bounty revealed from the bloody chasm. The marrow was exposed. He sucked it out without a second thought, savoring the taste, wasting nothing. Then he focused back on the meat itself, once more stuffing himself with its chewy goodness. Stomach like a bottomless pit kept him going, making up for all those trials spent hungry.

When he was finally feeling satisfied, there was very little left.

Then he washed it down with the flask of rum that had come with the meat, pouring it straight into his gullet without a drop escaping.

And once he got down from his high, he cried large tears, sobbing and roaring, or he at least would have if his eyes didn’t remain completely dry. Still, he wept, his cries echoing over the tranquil waves of the ocean all around him.

He buried the corpse in the sand, digging a hole with some of the wreckage that had washed up ashore along with it. It was shallow, but it would do. Inside he gently lowered the bones and the few remaining scraps of flesh and hair, the tattered clothes and the meager belongings the sea hadn’t claimed. There wasn’t a lot he could add in terms of decorations, but a simple headstone was within his power. A couple wooden boards tied together, half-buried to prevent falling over. On it he carved her name, Jess, taking his time to turn it into something he could be proud of. Something she could be proud of too.

A couple breaks later, he was wracked by terrible cramps. He shivered and trembled, feeling cold despite his skin’s temperature rising. Everything he’d eaten came back out, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he had to use the toilet again. It was liquid though, violently expelled from his hindquarters. His speech was the first to go, his sight followed quickly.

When his rescuers finally arrived from an ethereal doorway in the air, all they found was a simple grave, and a corpse floating in the shallows.

word count: 1079
Just because I shouldn't doesn't mean I won't.


Mortalborn Abilities | Die Roller | Capstones
User avatar
Bolt
Posts: 53
Joined: Fri Sep 21, 2018 5:33 pm
Race: Human
Renown: 0
Character Sheet
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Contribution

Re: Food, glorious food!


Ouch, just thinking about being that thirsty makes my throat dry! This thread is a prime example of why nobody should ever go on into the ocean – ever. I was kind of grossed out by just eating the animal like that, but it went to show how desperate Oberan was.

Rewards:
XP: 10
Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: 0

Knowledge:

none requested



Stamp Code:

Code: Select all

[center][img]http://standingtrials.com/gallery/image.php?album_id=39&image_id=7932[/img][/center]
[/color]
word count: 86
Formerly Hikaru
Image
Post Reply Request an XP Review Claim Wealth Thread

Return to “The Fall & Before”