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Kovic was excited in his own psychopathic way. The locale he had accidentally taken over had not only plenty of bodies, but plenty of tools for his first real cooking experience. Even if he had been a kitchen assistant, most of his tasks were around washing dishes - which he licked clean. Currently, most of his meals were purchased directly from establishment based around gastronomy. Despite his lack of experience in the preparation of a meal, he knew that his tasting buds and nostrils were excellent, just like everything else in his glorious organism. All the tools of a great cook were there, waiting for him to exploit them, and now that he had temporarily moved past his gluttony, he could finally do it.
Behind the counter, tools of the trade were ready for him. A butcher’s knife, spices, and a large chopping table for the correct manipulation of meat. Liquors and water were present, just like a large oven with a roaring fire within it. Kovic wondered where the smoke escaped, for the establishment was underground in a field, but the question was dismissed – it was someone else’s problem to think about that overlooked detail. He inspected the many wrapped sacks that stood below the drinking section; flour, beans, peas… It was the perfect kitchen, and the perfect opportunity to unleash his talent.
The first thing Kovic did was take one of the many bodies from the room and carve up a few chunks of meat, which he then slapped against his own flesh. His skin quickly wrapped said meat and began leeching the nutrients from it. Health was something currently lacking in his body, and these dozen meat cuts would help him recover it. Afterwards, he exhaled deeply, and mentally prepared the menu. First, he needed the soup.
Not being ravenously hungry had many advantages. One of them was the ability to not eat the ingredients on the go, and perhaps the most important one. Kovic moved to the counter and armed himself with the butcher’s knife, a piece of equipment that he’d need. He thought about the ingredients for the soup, and finally came up with a plausible recipe. First, he got the meat, which he extracted from the bodies of the dead clientele. Toes and fingers were chopped off as best as possible and gathered near a great pot Kovic now filled with water from a keg. He then placed it atop the furnace, where a different pot had been boiling for a while. He could’ve used that pot himself were it not already occupied with someone else’s inferior recipe.
After that, Kovic began cutting some onions and potatoes to add onto the soup. Considering his diet was often supplemented with flesh from a mortal, it was no surprise that he planned on getting good onto cooking said meat. Which cut, which part, and which individual to choose from were options he’d have to narrow down to taste with pure experience. If he could replicate this Misty Mania before every feeding, he’d no longer have to retort to senseless absorption. He could enjoy fine meals and delight himself with what he was.
Once the water was boiling, Kovic threw every ingredient into the pot, including some flour for consistency – or so he convinced himself. Now, Kovic had some time for himself. After cutting some more pieces of meat for his passive feeding, he was left task less. No hunger was felt on his being still, and his serenity was absolute. Returning to his days of hunger would be quite a change, he thought. Meanwhile, as the hunger was still away, he had an idea. Every character followed a script, and he was no different. Every script was based around a stage, which in Kovic’s case was Etzos. But there was one thing he lacked still; a costume.
He never knew when he’d need to feed. He couldn’t rely on the chance of killing every witness every time. He needed a failsafe for those situations; to disguise as someone he wasn’t to never be found in his usual shape. His best weapon for said disguise was his own body, of course.
And so Kovic thought of a mask. It hides the face and the hair, and thus shields him from the eyes of others. Perfect, and simple. With some thought, he once again decided to scrap part of his digestive system to acquire its mass, and then repurposed by coating his entire head with skin, leaving only the eyes outside its boundaries. After giving it some more thought, he decided to change that skin into bone for added theatricality, and so he did; a skull now surrounded Kovic’s head. He then recalled that he possessed a beard, and so with some more effort, he made that skull grow some bone-made tentacle-like formations in the front. The result he believed was quite astonishing, especially when he looked at it in the reflection found in a bucket of water. The control over his body's capabilities was greatly increased when hunger was away, and so he knew his future would be bright.
1st of Ashan, 716
4th Break
4th Break
Kovic was excited in his own psychopathic way. The locale he had accidentally taken over had not only plenty of bodies, but plenty of tools for his first real cooking experience. Even if he had been a kitchen assistant, most of his tasks were around washing dishes - which he licked clean. Currently, most of his meals were purchased directly from establishment based around gastronomy. Despite his lack of experience in the preparation of a meal, he knew that his tasting buds and nostrils were excellent, just like everything else in his glorious organism. All the tools of a great cook were there, waiting for him to exploit them, and now that he had temporarily moved past his gluttony, he could finally do it.
Behind the counter, tools of the trade were ready for him. A butcher’s knife, spices, and a large chopping table for the correct manipulation of meat. Liquors and water were present, just like a large oven with a roaring fire within it. Kovic wondered where the smoke escaped, for the establishment was underground in a field, but the question was dismissed – it was someone else’s problem to think about that overlooked detail. He inspected the many wrapped sacks that stood below the drinking section; flour, beans, peas… It was the perfect kitchen, and the perfect opportunity to unleash his talent.
The first thing Kovic did was take one of the many bodies from the room and carve up a few chunks of meat, which he then slapped against his own flesh. His skin quickly wrapped said meat and began leeching the nutrients from it. Health was something currently lacking in his body, and these dozen meat cuts would help him recover it. Afterwards, he exhaled deeply, and mentally prepared the menu. First, he needed the soup.
Not being ravenously hungry had many advantages. One of them was the ability to not eat the ingredients on the go, and perhaps the most important one. Kovic moved to the counter and armed himself with the butcher’s knife, a piece of equipment that he’d need. He thought about the ingredients for the soup, and finally came up with a plausible recipe. First, he got the meat, which he extracted from the bodies of the dead clientele. Toes and fingers were chopped off as best as possible and gathered near a great pot Kovic now filled with water from a keg. He then placed it atop the furnace, where a different pot had been boiling for a while. He could’ve used that pot himself were it not already occupied with someone else’s inferior recipe.
After that, Kovic began cutting some onions and potatoes to add onto the soup. Considering his diet was often supplemented with flesh from a mortal, it was no surprise that he planned on getting good onto cooking said meat. Which cut, which part, and which individual to choose from were options he’d have to narrow down to taste with pure experience. If he could replicate this Misty Mania before every feeding, he’d no longer have to retort to senseless absorption. He could enjoy fine meals and delight himself with what he was.
Once the water was boiling, Kovic threw every ingredient into the pot, including some flour for consistency – or so he convinced himself. Now, Kovic had some time for himself. After cutting some more pieces of meat for his passive feeding, he was left task less. No hunger was felt on his being still, and his serenity was absolute. Returning to his days of hunger would be quite a change, he thought. Meanwhile, as the hunger was still away, he had an idea. Every character followed a script, and he was no different. Every script was based around a stage, which in Kovic’s case was Etzos. But there was one thing he lacked still; a costume.
He never knew when he’d need to feed. He couldn’t rely on the chance of killing every witness every time. He needed a failsafe for those situations; to disguise as someone he wasn’t to never be found in his usual shape. His best weapon for said disguise was his own body, of course.
And so Kovic thought of a mask. It hides the face and the hair, and thus shields him from the eyes of others. Perfect, and simple. With some thought, he once again decided to scrap part of his digestive system to acquire its mass, and then repurposed by coating his entire head with skin, leaving only the eyes outside its boundaries. After giving it some more thought, he decided to change that skin into bone for added theatricality, and so he did; a skull now surrounded Kovic’s head. He then recalled that he possessed a beard, and so with some more effort, he made that skull grow some bone-made tentacle-like formations in the front. The result he believed was quite astonishing, especially when he looked at it in the reflection found in a bucket of water. The control over his body's capabilities was greatly increased when hunger was away, and so he knew his future would be bright.
