Disguised as Salazar "Sal" Worthington:

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That Tomoe sure was the maddest of lads that Sal had ever seen – not only had he attacked two light guilds and caused the deaths of many in the process, spreading misery everywhere he went, he even had the balls to work Sal to the bone. The Salazar Worthington! What audacity. What masculine bravado! There truly was no depths that such a villain wouldn't sink to, depriving his subordinates of something so common, simple yet important as “time off”. Everybody needed self-care time, and it was important to one's mental health to have those moments where books were read, naps were taken, and delicious meals were learned and prepared. It had, after all, been a while since Sal had prepared his human taco recipe in full, needing to cheap out here or there on ingredients.

More often than not, Sal nowadays had no problems receiving the ground meat or the cheese, but the “bread” in these human tacos – the bodies of his victims – were always... lacking something, nowadays. However, rather than simply submit to despair and become one of the many downtrodden and defeated of the world, he would rise above. Why would he become a slave to the cogs that made up society if he could rise from the ashes of his victims and reach the other end of the struggle as something so much greater?

Such lofty ambitions would require money, though, and that's why Sal now found himself in front of Dawncliff Mine. He had met up earlier in Rush Valley with some rich boy – very handsome and very... succulent – and simply had to talk to him. When they hit it off and the rich kid was so kind as to invite big burly strong men to join them for some brief exercise, Sal was only convinced further that he had chosen right to approach the young man who could only be in his mid twenties; a prime age for all kinds of recipes and rituals, and such a waste if he was allowed to live to become broken and elderly.

Sal would hold off on such things though, for the moment, when the boy hastily and desperately said he could pay Sal for a job after the crazed cook had strung his bodyguards out across Rush Valley's pavement like hooked meat in a butchery freezer. “Of course I'll help, little boy! I would oh so love to assist a strapping buck like yourself~!”, Sal would reply happily, licking his lips and tasting the salty flavor of sweat on his lips from the work-out he was forced to get into with some foolish bodyguards attempting to separate employer and employee.

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WC: 448/2,000

Tomoe had told Sal to be wary in case this was all a trap, but that was pure formality; there was a mutual understanding between the two that if they were cautious, neither of them truly had to worry about the other. In this world full of clowns and mages so confident in their pure brute strength, they had to compensate for weakness with planning. Neither would allow themselves to be caught off guard, and with Sal being among Tomoe's most trusted subordinates, there would likely be nothing to fear from this excursion. If anyone tried anything, that simply meant Sal had a greater abundance of ingredients with which to experiment with to please all that he would call his comrades. Perhaps even compadres, if things got saucy enough between him and the other fine, strong men that he relied on to back him up.

Between Tomoe, Gunter, Kratos and Yugo, there was a lot of hunk to go around and so little time with which to inspect them... and why were they even single, anyway? Sal simply knew they would be absolute delicacies if they simply surrendered to him. The best human tacos, one and all. It was a true blight upon these lands, a vile curse indeed, that they didn't understand what their greatest potential really was.

“Mmm... but I'll think about that later. Bad Sal! Dirty boy! Mind out of the gutter, you devil, you. Tomoe would have your guts for garters if he found out about this...!”, Sal muttered to himself, and felt a shiver up his spine as if the man he spoke of was reading his very thoughts in that moment, and decided it would be best to push those thoughts away for now.

Food had a way of bringing people together. That's what Sal truly believed, and as he entered Dawncliff Mine with his head out of the clouds and firmly focused on the objective at hand, he hoped that perhaps he could dissuade any angsty or uppity miners from throwing fits at him for intruding upon their turf. A a few tears escaped Sal's eyes as he progressed into the dark cavernous mines, realizing that there could be severe loss of life if things went wrong. Yes, tears, indeed... tears of joy. For while he had heard tales of the Bloody Barber of Dawncliff and all the horrid things she had done some many months ago to the workers of this mine, and knew that she was yet another cohort of Tomoe's, her little tantrums would pale in comparison to what Sal had in mind for any who would resist.

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WC: 886/2,000

He needed funds, and would uphold the contract of that strapping hot slab of meat that hired him for this job from Rush Valley. If Sal wasn't satisfied with the money once the job was done, though? Well, that hot slab of meat would need to get put to proper use, wouldn't it? He'd better get his goddamn money, and that money had better be enough to give Sal some well-earned downtime.

“Hey! You can't be down here! Who are you? Who sent you? Was it that Jake kid from Rush Valley? You can't be serious...”

Sal turned around to see some rugged looking forty-something miner who looked like he hadn't showered in months. Hell, the way he looked and was dressed, one would probably find solid gold if they looked down his undies right now. The thought crossed Sal's mind to let the man go for his transgressions against HER greatest chef, but as with many things, that thought passed and fluttered off into a breeze of forgetfulness. Sal didn't have such a good memory sometimes. So sad for him. How could anyone understand that kind of pain?

The miner put his hands on his hips and sighed, gesturing with his finger and pointing away as if to tell Sal to go back the way he came. “Get out of here and don't let me see you or that little shit again. If he wants what's in here so bad he can come buy us out like a normal entitled little rich kid. Tell him that. Punk.”, the miner would confirm Sal's assumption, and follow it up with a chunky spit at the chef's feet, narrowly missing his designer shoes. “Fuck off.”, the miner would finish with, pickaxe in hand in case things got nasty, not trusting the darkened features of the unwelcome Mr. Worthington.

As any stable person would do, Sal would raise a hand to tell the man to halt a moment. With that, the crazed cook would kneel down on both knees and put his index finger to the small droplet of spit that was now on the ground in front of him. He'd rub his index finger around in the rocks and dirt to ensure his finger had as much of the spit as possible cling to his finger. With that done, Sal would bring the finger up to his tongue and thoroughly lick his finger up and down as if enjoying an ice cream cone on a hot summer day, all while making unflinching eye contact with the miner from the very moment he had gotten on his knees.

When that wasn't enough for Sal, he stuck his finger into his gaping maw and closed, sucking on his finger to cleanse it as if eating very powdery potato chips or licking hot sauce from a moist burrito off of it. The middle-aged miner could only stand there, astonished and without words, not quite certain of what he was looking at. “What? What the hell are you doing, weirdo? I told you to get out!”, the miner would continue once he had composed himself after a few moments of silence in which Sal just silently stared at him with his index finger now dripping wet with his own saliva and moistened dirt.

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WC: 1,433/2,000

The proud, capable man known as Salazar Worthington made his way to his feet once again. He dusted off his pants, because he wasn't some kind of disgusting freak; his pants had cost a great deal and were bought by Tomoe himself! He couldn't allow something so gross as dirty trousers when he had a reputation to uphold. “Mmm... mmm...! Now that I've had a little snacky-poo, I should probably get to the main course while I'm here, and while you're still here with all that muscle, honey.”

For a brief moment, the miner knew exactly what his fate would be. This was only brief, however, because Sal had dashed at the unsuspecting fool with the wrath of an alcoholic stepfather. Like any good child that knew what was good for them, the miner could only shriek in terror as Sal's fists descended upon his skull, accepting his fate like a good little boy. He was crushed and tenderized, ripped apart by Sal's dogged appetite. “I'll save you as a little morsel for later. I wonder what kind of dish I'd serve you as...? Well, we'd need to do something about the horrid quality of your skin first. Honestly, what do I do with you people sometimes?”

Sal would stuff the dead miner into a sack and drag him along as he continued through Dawncliff Mine. Through twisting tunnels and dark caverns that he could see in easily, Sal was having a good day of things. He'd encounter more miners as he progressed forward, but made short work of them like he did with the first one to greet him. Short, lovingly crafted work. Tomoe and the rest would surely be happy with the results of this mission once it was all over.

Eventually, Mr. Worthington would come to a vein – not the vein of a person, as he'd already had his fair share of dealing with those today, but rather an ore vein, if it could be called that. With a few gentle touches, some more rock broke away to reveal a massive outcrop of shining, beautiful minerals. “Oh what joy! What pure bliss! I have found my employer a vast fortune! Oh, he will surely be happy and give me my due reward. And Tomoe... oh, Tomoe, you and the rest of the gorgeous men you ally with will fall for me before long~!”, Sal would exclaim with pride and living in a world of pure and unfiltered joy as corpses and blood lay around him.

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WC: 1,852/2,000

The rest was a mere formality. Sal would make his best assumptions on how much there was, not even really knowing what the minerals could be other than that they clearly had value. The man had an eye for quality, so he knew goodness when he saw it, and he was most definitely looking at something rich and ripe for the picking. He'd take this knowledge back to Jake, the rich young buck from Rush Valley.

Terror filled the young man's eyes and deep in his heart he knew that he had contracted a devil to do his work for him. That didn't concern Sal at all, though, he simply wanted his pay! He'd done his part and shown up the Bloody Barber of Dawncliff at her own job, and for that he felt entitled to some amazing pay. Pay he would receive, and bow with respect to the rich boy who was still somehow so poor that he couldn't actually buy out the mine in its entirety. Oh well, that was life.

“One day he'll make a fine meal, but not now. No, no, not yet. He needs to blossom first. Into a beautiful, frilly flower, or perhaps a nice head of broccoli... mmm~! Perhaps I'll make a broccoli garnish for my “Miner Cheek Special” tonight! The boys back home will absolutely adore it, I know it! Yes, yes, I must get home and get to chopping away~!”, Sal would gleefully and giddily skip around thinking about the beautiful new recipe he would try out, already able to visualize the smiling and satisfied faces stuffed with delicious and healthy food; and all for such an affordable price with such abundant ingredients!

With that, Sal would take off back to the inn Tomoe was staying at. With any luck, the chef at the inn would be cooperative again; he wasn't last time, and he and Tomoe had to show the poor staff of that place what happened when they didn't cooperate. They would accept human flesh as a valid dish, fit to be eaten by all patrons, and if they didn't...? Well, there would be some choice words to be had with the manager of that place! Anybody who'd turn away food like that was an unforgivable sinner, and Mr. Worthington was the sort that punished such sinners. He was determined to turn the frowns of the people upside down, one mouthful of human flesh at a time!

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WC: 2,000/2,000

- EXIT -