Recent Statuses

5 mos ago
Beasts. All over the shop. You'll be one of 'em too. Sooner or later.
6 mos ago
If you can't bench press their hopes and dreams then what's the point?
8 mos ago
I have the final post in numerous dead RPs. I am the end. The all. The sun. The mooooooon. The bored stars.
11 mos ago
Hard time? Don't worry! The mortal coil is strangling us all! You're not alone!
11 mos ago
Great strides have been made. Great strides. The best strides. I know all about strides. And great ones have been made.



Utrax -- Taking on life one existential crisis at a time!
I lurk a lot in threads that interest me or that I'm considering joining.
I'm here to have fun!
I'm into music and video games.
I love vultures, pigeons, and seagulls.

Everything will be okay!
Let's make some great stories together!

Utrax Is Interested In:
Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Action, Urban Fantasy, Suspense,
Drama, Horror, Comedy, Character Development,
Grimdark, Pre/During/Post Apocalypse, Suppernatural, and Superpowers/heroes.

Want to 1x1?
If you send me a message proposing a plot or asking me to make one! Be 18+ if you want something smut or romance, please.
Romance and pairings bore me if they're the SOLE focus of the RP. There must be more plot than just that!
I love using OC's rather than Canon but, if the idea is good? I probably won't turn it away!
I am not a one line poster, please don't be one either. One paragraph or more, when needed, but don't filler me to death.
My average is 1 to 6 paragraphs as necessary because I like to elaborate but, also like to get to the point sometimes.
Typos? English not your first language? It's all good. Ask for help if you want! I will still RP with you!

I have no preference for you or me RPing any gender, sexuality, religion, etc. -- If it's a good OC it's a good OC!
You have to be this way to RP with me as well!

Sometimes Utrax can get too excited about a thing and POST A WHOLE LOT. My bad.

Also. As of 10June2017.I am not joining your RP Discord. No. Not anymore. NO.

Most Recent Posts

I'm here.
I'm just very busy and I try not to post at too high a frequency, whenever I happen to have time to post. I try to pace my posts so that other players don't feel stifled by the sheer amount of UTRAX there is all over things. I try to wait until another player at least has a post out there before I throw mine up, even if they're not congruent stories. I also didn't know if anyone was going to have some reaction to the giant screaming metal bird in the middle of the city before my next post. Soooooo... yeeeeeeah.
If that's full of errors, my bad.
I may have. Mistaken. The thread post editor for my private message Draft Folder Thingy.
My bad.
I'll fix it later. Promise.
Vaia placed her personal affects in a corner of the kitchen in a slow and methodical manner. The kitchen itself was a room about six paces wide and ten paces long. There was a single door into it and this door was perfectly centered between the left and right walls. A large counter was placed in the center of the room, it hosted a flat wooden counter-top and cupboards on both sides. A few hooks were set into the low ceiling, from which to hang herbs and spices for drying, or whatever else it was that cooks liked to hang. Along the left wall there was another counter top with cupboards below it, filled with pots, pans, knives, and eating utensils. A single stove was set into the far right wall and it was a well made cast iron thing, sitting in a single step deep stone square, which hosted enough water to extinguish any accidental flames. Crates and boxes lined the room, housing ingredients, yet unpacked but probably inspected. The room likely felt claustrophobic and small even if the boxes were unpacked, Vaia observed. The ceiling was just barely high enough for her to stand to full height and she knew that most of the taller crew members would have difficulty feeling comfortable here.

Good. To hell with them. They needed to stay out anyway.

There was a stinging within her chest as she looked about the kitchen, one she knew very well-- the sting of her pride. Vaia grit her teeth then clenched her fists tight as she looked about the bare kitchen space. She needed something else to focus on that wasn't her growing distaste for the position she was placed in-- ah, that's right, she needed a place to sleep. Turning to the wall behind herself, which was at the far end of the kitchen, directly across from the door, she took a brief measurement, then figured she could sleep on this bare strip of floor, directly in front of the pantry door. Likely, they would want her sleeping with the rest of the crew. That was fine-- Vaia figured she could justify her presence in the kitchen as both a safeguard and a preparatory necessity. Simple enough. What she would likely have trouble with was if anyone tried to come in at night.

Already Vaia began working out a training regimen for herself. This required people leaving her the hell alone at night and the cost was sleep. There was no way Vaia was going to let her skills dull while being forced to perform bitch-work and she'd be damned if she stayed in this position long enough for someone to want her here. No. If there was one thing Vaia knew, it was that she couldn't stay here for long, and her mere presence here was already burning down her precious tolerance for the position-- but Vaia also knew she wasn't much use now.

When the crew had been told the hoist the sails, she had fumbled. Vaia made no attempt to seem as if she knew what she was doing, but she hadn't fled away from the task or asked for help. She watched and did her best to mimic everyone else's work, but there had been a few ropes tied too loosely or a couple of slip ups here and there-- that other guy? Well, that guy, the one holding her position, at least he knew how to sail. That set him apart from her. That was the main distinction. It wouldn't matter for long, however. Sailing seemed easy enough. Vaia figured that all she needed was practice and she would be able to at least fill his shoes, if not surpass him, in due time. While her position was unfortunate, Vaia began to see it as necessary and that stung her pride even worse than the position itself.

Tense and angry, Vaia decided to examine the contents of the crates, the contents of the small pantry near her "rest area", after she began a fire in the stove. A meal would be needed soon. One that would set the tone for all expectations for her cooking in the future, so it needed to be proper, in her decided kind of way.

Yes, this meal needed to be the most bland of them all.
I'm back from a lengthy trip. I'll read thing now. k.
Okay I'm back now and this didn't take off nearly as fast as I anticipated.
Hello. Sup.
Vaia is going to be an NPC until I get back from a long work trip and I don't want to hold the RP up!
I won't have internet where I'm going :(

Okay Back.
“And Vaia shall be the cook...”

Then Galen asked for questions? Opinions?
Oh, Vaia had several, all filled with expletives and colorful adjectives but she held her tongue. Her gaze was temporarily fixed on that man, what was his name-- Eladar? He was the weapons expert and it made sense for the crew to have already filled such a position. Naturally, Vaia figured, people will pick those they were familiar with rather than a stranger. Of course. Yet she was furious. Her anger was the sort that very few would understand. To put a Rhemora caste woman back into the kitchen, when she had trained and fought against such a place, was to give her quite the grievous insult indeed-- but Vaia ground her teeth silently instead. She found herself thankful that only her eyes were showing, that she could regain her composure from such a blindside under a cloth mask, but she still had to take a moment to ease away her venomous glare.

“Warriors and work are made by the meal-- the kitchen a place of honor,” Vaia remarked very calmly, translating a common saying among lower caste women. “Though it was not what I came to do, I will try my best. I am no cook,” Vaia concluded in that still-water calm manner. She bowed her head then tuned out the rest of the crew, the conversation, the world in it’s entirety. Already she was wandering the corridors of thought, making plans, suppressing rage, and most importantly, recalling just how much everyone knew about her. With deliberation, Vaia made sure she never mentioned she could cook during the interview, and this was going to play a key part in her plot. Already, Vaia had this “cook position” in mind as temporary and leverage for vengeance.

Regardless of someone speaking with her or trying to get her attention, Vaia remained silent, and once the crowd was sent to disperse, Vaia headed to the ship’s kitchen. So fine. She would feed them. Her skill in cooking was minimal so that was another advantage-- she didn’t have much clue what she was doing in the first place, so it would be easy to make edible garbage.

Every single day for breakfast to start, she was going to serve porridge, varied only slightly by the presence of meat sometimes, salted slightly too much or sweetened awkwardly, and a bit too watery. For midday there would be “stew”, with a deliberate absence of spices or the presence of far too much spice, and the same stew for dinner, only overcooked or lukewarm. Over and over again she was going to serve these meals. Without change and with only slightly not enough for everyone-- which would force the portions to be small. When asked about the quality of meals, Vaia figured she would nod and listen, perhaps even entertain their suggestions, then change nothing about the cooking. Vaia knew very well the effect a good meal could have on morale, so she was going to drive that morale into the ground, then grind it beneath her heel. This was what they forced upon themselves and the fault was with their choice, with the person that chose the cook, and Vaia was going to make that abundantly clear.

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