@GreenGoat I have to imagine that, if we have a rumored demon king actually eating other students every day, the administration would get involved before significant residual effects could be gained.
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@Embalmer Satan, blood, bone seasoning. A perfect recipe for a Shadow King rumor.
@GreenGoat Up to three at a time, and only for 24 hours. If he did that for a few years, though, some residual effects would end up staying. That might make him pretty dangerous. Not that he wouldn't be already, after eating his peers for a few years.
@GreenGoat Up to three at a time, and only for 24 hours. If he did that for a few years, though, some residual effects would end up staying. That might make him pretty dangerous. Not that he wouldn't be already, after eating his peers for a few years.
I hadn't really considered what would happen if Kingsley ate a human, but theoretically, he would gain their qualities and/or abilities for a day. If he ate a smart guy, he would become smarter. If he ate a dude with fire powers, he'd probably get fire powers. Mind, he wouldn't gain as much smarts or as powerful flames as the original.
Theoretically, of course. I'm certain there are rumors about him and cannibalism, but it certainly hasn't happened before.
Theoretically, of course. I'm certain there are rumors about him and cannibalism, but it certainly hasn't happened before.
Kingsley was used to the doomsday prognostication that came with his presence, and thus largely ignored it as he rushed to the choking boy. Occasionally one of the more outlandish claims would get to him and he would retort, thus resulting in more rumors, but the boxing club seemed to be screaming some pretty standard stuff.
"Y-yes!" Kingsley replied to the boxing cheerleader's plea. He quickly took her place, and began his skillful and practiced Heimlich. It was something that every chef worth his seasoning was proficient in, and as Kingsley was worth a lot of seasoning as a chef, he was quite good at it. Invigorated by the Lucha, he decided to try naming his Heimlich.
"Ultimate... Heimlich... CRUSHER!" he cried, punctuating each word with a strong, swift movement. Sadly, it took a couple more movements to dislodge whatever was choking the boy up so Kingsley awkwardly continued after he had called his move. When finally the disruption was cleared up and spat out, Kingsley added another word to the end of the move to save face.
"MIRACLE!"
He stood back to allow Johnny to get some air.
"You alright, kid?" his voice boomed gruffly.
"Y-yes!" Kingsley replied to the boxing cheerleader's plea. He quickly took her place, and began his skillful and practiced Heimlich. It was something that every chef worth his seasoning was proficient in, and as Kingsley was worth a lot of seasoning as a chef, he was quite good at it. Invigorated by the Lucha, he decided to try naming his Heimlich.
"Ultimate... Heimlich... CRUSHER!" he cried, punctuating each word with a strong, swift movement. Sadly, it took a couple more movements to dislodge whatever was choking the boy up so Kingsley awkwardly continued after he had called his move. When finally the disruption was cleared up and spat out, Kingsley added another word to the end of the move to save face.
"MIRACLE!"
He stood back to allow Johnny to get some air.
"You alright, kid?" his voice boomed gruffly.
Kingsley, through Ruidoso, found himself pulled into the spectacle with the rest of the crowd. He cheered and hollered with the others, and got hyped as hell despite having almost no idea about what this man was talking about. Boxermania? Dates? Well, at the very least Kingsley understood FIERY PASSION. This was it! Kingsley understood now that this was also a part of Lucha Libre.
"Yes, just like cutting open a fish en papillote! No, more like a sizzling fajita! The show is a part of the meal. No more could one separate a Luchador from his showmanship than a chef from his knives! It's beautiful in its purity."
The ovation, however, was cut somewhat short when a boy in the crowd began choking. Being a gourmet, Kingsley was well-versed in the Heimlich maneuver, but the attentive cheerleader seemed to be on it.
"Wait, do boxing clubs have cheerleaders? Or Luchadors, for that matter?"
Kingsley then spotted a tall boy with a collection of gigantic swords in the ring.
"Or swordsmen? What kind of boxing club is this?"
Regardless, a boy was choking and it was Kingsley's duty to offer help.
"Miss," he called out over the crowd in his deep, booming, imposing roar of a voice, "May I help? I am very well-versed in the Heimlich!"
Some members of the crowd finally noticed the giant as Kingsley strode towards the choking boy in a white apron, emblazoned upon which were the words 'KISS THE COOK'. Some cried, some fainted, some wet themselves, and more shouted:
'Dear God, it's the Shadow King! He's come to murder us all!'
'He will use our varied corpses to construct his dark throne, from which he will bring the throngs of Hell to descend upon the Earth!'
'In this moment of panic, I have seen the face of God! It is terrifying and benevolent, and I no longer fear death!'
"Yes, just like cutting open a fish en papillote! No, more like a sizzling fajita! The show is a part of the meal. No more could one separate a Luchador from his showmanship than a chef from his knives! It's beautiful in its purity."
The ovation, however, was cut somewhat short when a boy in the crowd began choking. Being a gourmet, Kingsley was well-versed in the Heimlich maneuver, but the attentive cheerleader seemed to be on it.
"Wait, do boxing clubs have cheerleaders? Or Luchadors, for that matter?"
Kingsley then spotted a tall boy with a collection of gigantic swords in the ring.
"Or swordsmen? What kind of boxing club is this?"
Regardless, a boy was choking and it was Kingsley's duty to offer help.
"Miss," he called out over the crowd in his deep, booming, imposing roar of a voice, "May I help? I am very well-versed in the Heimlich!"
Some members of the crowd finally noticed the giant as Kingsley strode towards the choking boy in a white apron, emblazoned upon which were the words 'KISS THE COOK'. Some cried, some fainted, some wet themselves, and more shouted:
'Dear God, it's the Shadow King! He's come to murder us all!'
'He will use our varied corpses to construct his dark throne, from which he will bring the throngs of Hell to descend upon the Earth!'
'In this moment of panic, I have seen the face of God! It is terrifying and benevolent, and I no longer fear death!'
At last, the oven buzzed and Kingsley could retrieve his prize. He reached inside and grabbed the pie pan, not worrying about the heat due to his hand wraps. While it looked like these were for fighting, Kingsley really wrapped his hands thusly so that he could handle scalding hot implements at all times. Even great chefs could get burned in the kitchen every once in a while, after all.
Now, he just had to allow the pie to sit. His patience would be rewarded with perfectly done crusts, integrated flavorings, and thick, tasty gravy. His mouth already watered in anticipation as the delicious smell of meat and tender, flaky crust wafted about and inflicted the surrounding area. Good food took patience, but allowing a mostly done product to sit when he was so hungry never got easier.
As he waited, he heard a lot of shouting coming from the boxing club. Those guys were getting really excited about something, and Kingsley actually became a little curious. It would be a while longer on the pie, and Kingsley doubted anyone would steal it from him, so he decided to check it out. He exited the Home Economics room as surreptitiously as a burly, scarred, 7-foot-tall man in an apron could and slipped into the room the boxing club used. For once, all eyes were on someone other than him, so he leaned back against the wall and watched.
"It's a... masked wrestler? I think I've heard of them before! It's called 'Lucha', I believe. I don't know why someone like that is in the boxing club, but he seems really interesting. I wonder what all the excitement is about, though?"
Now, he just had to allow the pie to sit. His patience would be rewarded with perfectly done crusts, integrated flavorings, and thick, tasty gravy. His mouth already watered in anticipation as the delicious smell of meat and tender, flaky crust wafted about and inflicted the surrounding area. Good food took patience, but allowing a mostly done product to sit when he was so hungry never got easier.
As he waited, he heard a lot of shouting coming from the boxing club. Those guys were getting really excited about something, and Kingsley actually became a little curious. It would be a while longer on the pie, and Kingsley doubted anyone would steal it from him, so he decided to check it out. He exited the Home Economics room as surreptitiously as a burly, scarred, 7-foot-tall man in an apron could and slipped into the room the boxing club used. For once, all eyes were on someone other than him, so he leaned back against the wall and watched.
"It's a... masked wrestler? I think I've heard of them before! It's called 'Lucha', I believe. I don't know why someone like that is in the boxing club, but he seems really interesting. I wonder what all the excitement is about, though?"
Kingsley started on his pot pie. Today he was using a combination of beef and bear meat, which normally took much longer than chicken as he liked using tough cuts in his meat-based pies and stews. After all, if one was going to use a tender cut of beef anyways, there were better recipes to make. As for the bear, well, it was important to use lean cuts from wild game to cut the 'gamey' flavor as most of that resided in fat tissue.
His secret to getting it done quickly was the pressure cooker. By cooking his meat under intense pressure, those tight muscles would loosen up well in no time and congregate with all the other flavors within an hour. He got his beef, bear, and mirepoix ready along with some beef bouillon he had made beforehand. He placed all these in the pressure cooker along with some water, and started on his crust. The crust still wasn't done by the time the meat was ready, but this was planned. He opened the pressure cooker, and the delicious smell of meat wafted out of the Home Economics class. Surely the delicious smells would reach nearby rooms soon, such as the place in which the boxing club took residence, but this did not concern Kingsley. Kingsley only cared about three things: Taste, presentation, and technical execution.
The giant sauteed some mushrooms and peas as the mixture cooled and the dough for the crust sat in the refrigerator. He added the sauteed items to the contents of the pressure cooker, which had gone down quite a bit in temperature thanks to his surrounding the container with ice. By now, the dough was ready and he covered the pie pan with the evenly-rolled crust. After shaping it, he used the remainder to cut strips out which would go on top of the meat mixture. He added the warm mixture to the pie pan, placed dough strips on top, and put the thing in the oven. In 25 more minutes it would be done, and as the pie baked the surrounding area became infused with even more delicious smells.
His secret to getting it done quickly was the pressure cooker. By cooking his meat under intense pressure, those tight muscles would loosen up well in no time and congregate with all the other flavors within an hour. He got his beef, bear, and mirepoix ready along with some beef bouillon he had made beforehand. He placed all these in the pressure cooker along with some water, and started on his crust. The crust still wasn't done by the time the meat was ready, but this was planned. He opened the pressure cooker, and the delicious smell of meat wafted out of the Home Economics class. Surely the delicious smells would reach nearby rooms soon, such as the place in which the boxing club took residence, but this did not concern Kingsley. Kingsley only cared about three things: Taste, presentation, and technical execution.
The giant sauteed some mushrooms and peas as the mixture cooled and the dough for the crust sat in the refrigerator. He added the sauteed items to the contents of the pressure cooker, which had gone down quite a bit in temperature thanks to his surrounding the container with ice. By now, the dough was ready and he covered the pie pan with the evenly-rolled crust. After shaping it, he used the remainder to cut strips out which would go on top of the meat mixture. He added the warm mixture to the pie pan, placed dough strips on top, and put the thing in the oven. In 25 more minutes it would be done, and as the pie baked the surrounding area became infused with even more delicious smells.
Kingsley sat and waited for class to be over so that he could get to his cooking. Under his massive body, the desk and chair set that was provided him seemed like a doll's furnishings. His knees were more than half a foot above the seat, and his desk sat on his lap rather than the floor. Well, when one was as big and buff as Kingsley, some concessions had to be made. The giant crossed his arms and closed his eyes, hoping that he could concentrate better on the words being said if he wasn't looking around.
"It's no good," thought Kingsley, "I don't understand a single word that's been said the whole class period. What do letters have to do with math? This crap was tough enough when it was just numbers, but now they've thrown every other damn subject in there. Parenthesis, shapes, letters... none of this looks like math any more. Why are there triangles? Where the hell do TRIANGLES fit in to all this?"
Kingsley already gave off a fearsome aura. That's why any other desk was at least five feet away from him. But now the man was gritting his teeth and growling in anger under his breath. Almost as if they had lives of their own to fear for, the desks moved even farther away.
"When am I gonna need this? How is this relevant to me? It's almost as if this subject was specifically catered to piss me off. Dammit, it's only the first week and already I don't get anything! Dammit!"
Suddenly, Kingsley stomped his foot down on the floor and the whole classroom seemed to shake. His menacing presence magnified by 10,000, and the entire class went silent and began to cower.
"Oh, oh no! No, there's really no need to be afraid! I'm really not gonna hurt anyone! Why does this always happen? No, I'm just frustrated at myself! You're all fine! Please, go back to learning."
Kingsley slowly opened his eyes, and saw the teacher kneeling in front of him and holding his wallet out in offering.
"No! Is this really the example you want to set? Go back to teaching, and I'll try to catch up! Put the wallet away! I don't want your money! Damn, this really sucks! How do I tell them all these things? Whenever I try to say anything, it ends up going like this anyways! No, it's fine. I'll just push his arm down a little to show I'm declining the-"
Kingsley's elbow hit his oddly-tilted desk as he reached out, and accidentally smacked the wallet out of the teacher's hand. That's when the whole class began screaming and ran out the door as fast as they could saying:
'It's not enough for him! The Shadow King can no longer be appeased!'
'Good Lord he'll kill us all!'
'Women and children first! Dear God you're trampling each other!'
'Every man for himself! Leave the dregs for the Shadow King's dark feast!'
'There is no God!'
Soon, Kingsley was alone in his little doll chair. He massaged his temple.
"Not again," he muttered as he stood up and stretched, "Damn. Well, I guess class is over now. Maybe cooking will get my mind off things."
Kingsley left the classroom and walked out into a deserted hallway. Not too strange considering that every hallway was a deserted hallway when Kingsley was around, but he'd gotten somewhat used to it. Passing by one of the arenas, he overheard something about kids fighting over pudding of all things. This made him feel strangely good. It was the sort of thing one could look in on and say 'I may be a moron, but at least I'm not that stupid'.
Smiling slightly, Kingsley made his way to the Home Economics classroom where he ran the cooking club. He wasn't expecting anyone to drop by today either, but at least he could do some baking in peace.
"Heh. Dumb kids. If they had even a taste of my own pudding, THEN maybe they'd have something to fight about. School food, even the highest quality of it, simply can't stand up to my cooking!"
Kingsley tied on an apron, and got to work on a delicious pot pie. Today, he vowed, it would be perfect.
"It's no good," thought Kingsley, "I don't understand a single word that's been said the whole class period. What do letters have to do with math? This crap was tough enough when it was just numbers, but now they've thrown every other damn subject in there. Parenthesis, shapes, letters... none of this looks like math any more. Why are there triangles? Where the hell do TRIANGLES fit in to all this?"
Kingsley already gave off a fearsome aura. That's why any other desk was at least five feet away from him. But now the man was gritting his teeth and growling in anger under his breath. Almost as if they had lives of their own to fear for, the desks moved even farther away.
"When am I gonna need this? How is this relevant to me? It's almost as if this subject was specifically catered to piss me off. Dammit, it's only the first week and already I don't get anything! Dammit!"
Suddenly, Kingsley stomped his foot down on the floor and the whole classroom seemed to shake. His menacing presence magnified by 10,000, and the entire class went silent and began to cower.
"Oh, oh no! No, there's really no need to be afraid! I'm really not gonna hurt anyone! Why does this always happen? No, I'm just frustrated at myself! You're all fine! Please, go back to learning."
Kingsley slowly opened his eyes, and saw the teacher kneeling in front of him and holding his wallet out in offering.
"No! Is this really the example you want to set? Go back to teaching, and I'll try to catch up! Put the wallet away! I don't want your money! Damn, this really sucks! How do I tell them all these things? Whenever I try to say anything, it ends up going like this anyways! No, it's fine. I'll just push his arm down a little to show I'm declining the-"
Kingsley's elbow hit his oddly-tilted desk as he reached out, and accidentally smacked the wallet out of the teacher's hand. That's when the whole class began screaming and ran out the door as fast as they could saying:
'It's not enough for him! The Shadow King can no longer be appeased!'
'Good Lord he'll kill us all!'
'Women and children first! Dear God you're trampling each other!'
'Every man for himself! Leave the dregs for the Shadow King's dark feast!'
'There is no God!'
Soon, Kingsley was alone in his little doll chair. He massaged his temple.
"Not again," he muttered as he stood up and stretched, "Damn. Well, I guess class is over now. Maybe cooking will get my mind off things."
Kingsley left the classroom and walked out into a deserted hallway. Not too strange considering that every hallway was a deserted hallway when Kingsley was around, but he'd gotten somewhat used to it. Passing by one of the arenas, he overheard something about kids fighting over pudding of all things. This made him feel strangely good. It was the sort of thing one could look in on and say 'I may be a moron, but at least I'm not that stupid'.
Smiling slightly, Kingsley made his way to the Home Economics classroom where he ran the cooking club. He wasn't expecting anyone to drop by today either, but at least he could do some baking in peace.
"Heh. Dumb kids. If they had even a taste of my own pudding, THEN maybe they'd have something to fight about. School food, even the highest quality of it, simply can't stand up to my cooking!"
Kingsley tied on an apron, and got to work on a delicious pot pie. Today, he vowed, it would be perfect.
Name: Kingsley Sovereign
Appearance: Kingsley is a massive giant of a man with heavily tanned skin and scars all over his body. He almost never wears a shirt, but a sarashi covers his stomach and there are wraps around his hands. He wears a pair of white pants that have become frayed at the bottom and black shoes and socks. His head is bald, but he always seems to have 5-o-clock shadow and a scowl on his face. He is incredibly muscular, and stands at almost seven feet tall. His eyebrows are gigantic and awe-inspiring.
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Year Level: 2nd year
Faction/club: Cooking Club
Power: Kingsley’s delicious homemade dishes are not only tasty, but they also bequeath to the eater some qualities of the creatures used in the ingredients for a full day. For example, if someone ate his turtle soup, their body would become resilient like a turtle’s shell. If they ate his bear stew, they would become much stronger and their sense of smell would greatly increase. One can have the qualities of up to three creatures at a time in this way. If one already has an ability that increases one of these parameters, then the dish adds to it. Thus, a weak man will become a strong man and a strong man will become a stronger man.
After years of intense training and eating his own food, Kingsley’s body has permanently taken on a fraction of the power his dishes bequeath. Thus, he is always stronger, faster, and more resilient than a normal man of his size and strength would be. Which is already a lot.
Rank: 47,000
Points: 42,000
Dorm: C-tier
Appearance: Kingsley is a massive giant of a man with heavily tanned skin and scars all over his body. He almost never wears a shirt, but a sarashi covers his stomach and there are wraps around his hands. He wears a pair of white pants that have become frayed at the bottom and black shoes and socks. His head is bald, but he always seems to have 5-o-clock shadow and a scowl on his face. He is incredibly muscular, and stands at almost seven feet tall. His eyebrows are gigantic and awe-inspiring.
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Year Level: 2nd year
Faction/club: Cooking Club
Power: Kingsley’s delicious homemade dishes are not only tasty, but they also bequeath to the eater some qualities of the creatures used in the ingredients for a full day. For example, if someone ate his turtle soup, their body would become resilient like a turtle’s shell. If they ate his bear stew, they would become much stronger and their sense of smell would greatly increase. One can have the qualities of up to three creatures at a time in this way. If one already has an ability that increases one of these parameters, then the dish adds to it. Thus, a weak man will become a strong man and a strong man will become a stronger man.
After years of intense training and eating his own food, Kingsley’s body has permanently taken on a fraction of the power his dishes bequeath. Thus, he is always stronger, faster, and more resilient than a normal man of his size and strength would be. Which is already a lot.
Rank: 47,000
Points: 42,000
Dorm: C-tier
So, GM, how am I looking? Think I'll be able to jump in soon?
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