Avatar of murdoc
  • Last Seen: 2 yrs ago
  • Joined: 8 yrs ago
  • Posts: 265 (0.09 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. murdoc 8 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

8 yrs ago
Current NYEH HEH HEH!
2 likes

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

@OliveYou Oof, sorry. I'll work on a post after I get back from work tonight.
-snip-
@TheDookieNut hail paimon baybe!!
Currently working on a character, if you'll have me. :D
Are You Gonna Be My Girl - Jet
Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen
Absinthe - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME
Where No Eagles Fly - The Voidz
Getting Naked, Playing With Guns - AJJ
StraitJacket - Raleigh Ritchie
Orpheus Under The Influence - The Buttertones
Diablo - WEDNESDAY CAMPANELLA
Let's Dance - M. Ward
But It's Better If You Do - Panic! at the Disco
Interested! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_
Left Hand Free - alt-J
Miracle Aligner - The Last Shadow Puppets
Heads Will Roll - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
1998 TRUMAN - BROCKHAMPTON
Naysayer, Magick Obeyer - Clarence Clarity
White Ferrari - Frank Ocean
Shut Your Mouth - Garbage
Asido - Purity Ring
The Static God - Thee Oh Sees
Kill V. Maim - Grimes
In Strings 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




LOCATION: The Minotaur
INTERACTING WITH: Nico



Jonas Haynes liked to think of himself as a man of simple pleasures. He enjoyed coming into the restaurant early in the morning, enjoyed the soft hum of the lowboy coolers, enjoyed the ritual of sharpening his knives; but most of all, he enjoyed the mundane tranquility of early morning Boston. The feeling of being one of the only people awake in the entire city was one he relished.

Growing up in such a large family, Jonas learnt early on to cherish whatever moments of peace he could find between the wrestling matches and hair-tear arguments he and his siblings often had. Most of the time, it was over something useless, like when his brother took the last popsicle in the freezer. One could say that there was never a dull moment in the Haynes household, though that was the nice way of putting it. To others, it would no doubt have fit the textbook definition of a madhouse.

Another thing that having eight older siblings taught him was grit. His siblings were never the type to take pity on him simply because he was younger and smaller than they were. In some strange, roundabout way, Jonas was actually thankful for it. If he’d always had everything handed to him on a silver platter, would he ever have gotten this far?

Here in Boston, the culmination of his efforts took physical form. The Minotaur was a bistro-slash-restaurant-slash-hashery that specialised in homestyle Greek cuisine with a modern twist. Or at least that’s what it said on Yelp, anyway. Much of its clientele consisted of normal, everyday folk with an appreciation for good food, good service, and good atmosphere. Lately, however, the heirs and heiresses of the Boston elite have been flocking to the place like bees to honey. Perhaps they just thought Greek food was ‘in vogue’ – as one customer had confided to him over a dish of strapatsada – but hey, business was business, and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Of course, running your own restaurant came with its fair share of difficulties. Anyone who has worked with Jonas knows him as a man who could be truly terrifying when he wanted to be. The first and second time his supplier shorted him a case of oranges, he was happy to overlook it. Now, the third time, he could no longer abide. So, when the delivery guy showed up the next morning, Jonas had just smiled, slung an arm around his shoulders, leaned in real close, and whispered something to him that made all the color drain from his face.

He stopped having trouble with missing boxes after that.

Intimidation was a skill that often came in handy when dealing with his coworkers here at The Minotaur, but it almost always came from a place of love. He wanted to see his people succeed, and no one succeeded through half-hearted, slapdash work. Unfortunately, there was one person who seemed annoyingly immune to his scare tactics — Nico Kaminsky.

Nico was Jonas’ sous chef, his second-in-command, but most importantly, his friend. He also shouldered the requisite duty of calling Jonas out on his bullshit whenever he got a little too big for his britches. The two met back when they were working at the Ritz-Carlton in Toronto. All that time spent standing elbow-to-elbow, chopping celery together laid the foundation for what would prove to be a long, prosperous friendship — one symbolised by the green thread that connected each of their pinkies.

Jonas knew that Nico was a hard worker, and had a sense for what separated a good restaurant from a great one; that was why he’d offered him the job when he first opened The Minotaur. The unsolicited romantic advice, on the other hand, was something that Jonas could do without. Unlike him, Nico was an ardent believer of Strings, and had somehow managed to procure a pair of invites to the annual Spring Festival. Like every past year, Jonas had no intention of attending, but this time, Nico seemed intent on dragging him along with or without his consent.

“You’re fucking joking, right? This is kids’ stuff.” Jonas lets out a laugh, one that sounded more mocking than amused, then takes a long pull from his cigarette. The twirling smoke that spills from his nostrils gives him the appearance of an angry dragon, which was rather fitting, given his current state of mind. They were out in an alleyway behind the restaurant, taking advantage of the lull before lunch service officially commenced, and all hell broke loose.

“Jo, listen,” Nico begins, with all the gravity of a doctor delivering news of her husband’s death to a newly-made widow. Perhaps in another life, he would have a flourishing career as an actor. Tall, dark, and handsome with a roguish way about him that swept ladies off their feet, he certainly had the basic requisites. But instead, what he’d chosen to do was sweat and slave away at a restaurant kitchen in downtown Boston. “You’re thirty-seven. That’s, what, three years away from the big 4-0?”

“Yes, congratulations. You know basic math.”

“Thank you, I try. But the point is,” Nico presses on, holding up a finger to silence any further interruptions. Jonas just narrows his eyes in response, a wordless gesture for him to continue. “You’re getting kind of, uh — how do I put it?”

“…Old?”

“You said it, not me.” Nico shrugs, a mischievous smirk gracing his features as he brings his own cigarette up to his lips. But a few moments later, he grows serious again, brow furrowing in a look that Jonas knew meant trouble. “Look, I’m just worried for you, man. Don’t you ever think about how it must feel to finally meet that special someone for the first time?”

“Nope, can’t say that I do.” Jonas says easily, without a second’s hesitation. Indeed, romance has always been something of an afterthought. Most of his time was spent poring over logistics, perfecting his craft, and keeping an eye on the kitchen crew so that they didn’t burn the whole place down. Such endeavours left him little time for much else, and as much as Nico tried to convince him otherwise, he was completely fine with that. Besides, he wasn’t the only one facing relationship woes, a fact that he suddenly felt the need to point out. “Hey, how long has it been since Shelby, anyway?”

“Wow. That really hurts.” Nico presses a hand to his chest, to where his heart would be, mouth agape in an expression of mock hurt. “And I’ll have you know that she didn’t dump me. I dumped her.”

Jonas only snorts.

“Look, just treat it as a guys’ night out. There’s gonna be an open bar, we’ll have some drinks, chill — it’ll be fun. And if you fucking hate it, I promise I won’t bother you about it again.”

For a long moment, Jonas is silent, weighing his options. When he finally relents, it’s with as non-committal an answer as he could get away with. “I’ll think about it.”

At that, Nico’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Okay! So tomorrow night after the dinner rush, we’ll clean up, and head on over. Sound good?”

Uh, no. I said I’ll think about it.” Jonas tries to retort, but Nico just grins and gives him a chummy slap on the shoulder before slinking back inside.

Well, that certainly didn’t go the way that he was hoping. Shaking his head in disbelief, Jonas finishes the last of his cigarette, flicks it in the trash, then steps back into the building as well.



In Strings 5 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet