Royal Broil Chalice Palace ~The RP~

[Fuzzy Mitten Mistress]

Once Rooj finished her meal she listened to the royal decree and held out a sliver collar. "I shall call my slaves and prepare a ride." Using the magic of her collar, Rooj summoned a number of slaves she had purchased on her way to the palace. Soon, the dozen gnomes rushed to her side and began piling atop one another. Then came a litter of dog anthro children which lay themselves out atop the gnomes like a chair. Next, four large bull men walked in. Picking Rooj up, they sit her onto the living throne before raising the living gondola into the air. Finally a pack of tigers walked in which the bulls mounted and transported them to Tessarel.

(To Tesarel)  

[BlazingDan]

(for luncheon, roll of 8 )

And now for the greatest challenge of all that Batim would ever face. Good table manners.
"I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die.." he mumbled under his breath as he entered the luncheon hall. "Right, so I'll just not look at the food. Not looking at it. Not gonna embarrass myself."
The scene was immaculate, a long table laden with every type of pie (for some unfathomable reason) along with anything else a glutton could possibly wish for. Like a chicken pot pie. Maybe it was actually sparkling heavenly-style, or that might have just been Batim's imagination. The triumphant latin choirs blaring out the word "Scrumptious!" also might not have really existed.
"OH NO I LOOKED AT IT!" yelled Batim, trying wildly to turn away. He seemed to be trapped in a quicksand vortex, because he had started very quickly running towards the lunch. "MUST RESIST DELICIOUS CHICKEN POT PIE! FAILING TO RESIST DELICIOUS CHICKEN POT PIE!"
He took a running jump and grabbed the pie, skidding across the table and scattering everything to the four winds. The other diners were slightly perturbe, but tried to keep up appearances and ignore him. Definately disdainful looks, though. And probably his good impression was fading fast.
Batim (who was now sitting cross legged in a pile of food with his wolf ears popping out of his hair) held the chicken pot pie and cradled it as if holding a small child. "My preciousss..." he said, doing his best Gollum impression.
"Um.. sir?" said a waiter tentatively. "That's not a chicken pot pie, it's just a pot pie without filling out of respect to our chicken guests."
Batim instantly fell back into his usual grimace, dropped the pot pie and got off the table. One of his eyes was twitching madly in different directions, and he looked about to murder someone. However, what he said was "Isn't that dandy. I'd like to pay my respects to these guests and make a proper apology for my hideous behaviour. Could you direct me to them?"
"Ah, why of course, sir." replied the waiter. "I do believe they're up in the conservatory enjoying the sun. I can show you the way if you wish."
"No no, it's alright. I took care to memorise the layout of this place." assured Batim. He then picked up a fork for some reason and left to 'apologise'.
There was a murmur from the assembled nobles. Well, he was certainly going out of his way to make up for that lapse in decorum, so he'd obviously learned his lesson. And his preparedness was always a bonus, it was a sign of good manners (Batim had not ended the sentence with "..in case I lose so I know where all the windows are to throw eggs at.")
One of the crowd, a small man with opera glasses and tofty hair stood up from the table and addressed the waiter too. "Actually, I'd like to go with him! He's an aquantence and I'll be able to help him 'explain his actions'! Please direct me to the chicken!!"
"Sit down, Maurice." said his wife.
"Fiddlesticks." replied the noble, and sat back down on his chair with a pout.  

[Lord Sithious]

(For the luncheon as well.)  

[Lord Sithious]

(That's an amazing role!)
Sithious had been sitting by for a while. He had been thinking a lot, not really paying attention to what was going until now. He dug into a delicious steak. His eyes widened. It was REALLY good! He began to eat more, and more. He was being very polite, but he noticed that he wasn't chewing it very much, which was rude for him. He slowed down and began to chew more slowly. If he had more of a heart he would have blushed, but he lacked any form of love or care. Sithious finished his meal and stood up.

He noticed that some of the people were getting ready to leave. Sithious saw a man running back to the kitchen but Sithious quickly stopped him. "Excuse, where is everyone heading too?" He asked politely. The worker frowned. "Like I would tell you! Get stuffed pal!" Sithious glared at him and stared into his eyes. The man's face went blank. "They're headed to Tesarel milord." Sithious smiled. "Thank you good man." He patted the man on the shoulder and walked away. He pulled out a cellphone as he walked away. While he walked away the man he had just spoken to had fallen over and a few people went over to him to see what had happened, but Sithious payed no attention. The phone rang and was suddenly picked up. "Hello Jericho. Could you please send the Hind to pick me up? Thank you."

After about three minuets of waiting a large black Mi-24 Hind helicopter began to land on the roof of the palace. It was probably illegal, but Sithious didn't care. But besides that, it was fast. He quickly climbed on the roof and one of the two pilot opened up the side door to the helicopter, the word Arkangel incorporated printed in white letters. He climbed in and sat on a throne like chair at the center back of the hold area which had also been refurbished to look like a palace, with red carpet, oak wood, and many other things. He looked to the pilot. "Let's go." He said. The pilot closed the door with a nod and climbed in the front. The helicopter then took off towards Tesarel.  

[Claire-chii]

A slight grin showed even when Eri was already seated and was eating. Master Butler couldn't help but look at her, glance a bit and control himself from hitting her head. Her table manners were the same about twenty years ago when she was hired by Her Royalness to be the surveryor and chief restorer of the legendary submarine. Eri was leaning on the table with her elbows grinning while sipping some good Bloody Mary bordered with refined crystalline ice.

A flush on her face might have suggested she is intoxicated.

The guests acted differently in all sorts of weird and unanticipated manners. Some focused on their manners, others were more aware of how others were looking at them than they were making others see themselves, and others, well - were more focused on food.

She glanced to the big canine prince over at the tables reminded her of the blue cookie monster fighting his urge over cookies. The shy noble, with her apologies, reminded her of a future Cinderella - although this Cinderella is still strapped in her inferiority complex. The simple one, who's complete focus was dominated by food. The Ice Queen, she never knew what she was thinking. The silent general, who turns out to have a softer side in him and the noble who didn't escape her attention, the one with the big feather in his hat, Sir Madam.

She was listing their faces in her head in that order - Doggie Monster, Cinderella, Big Bird, Ice Queen, Herr Reich, Sir Madam - she thought she was missing one. . . but maybe that was just her senses.

"Lady Eri, it's time to leave.", the butler suggested.

"Oh!", as if an alarm clock hit her ear and broke her mild alcoholic euphoria. "Is it already?", she looked around and found almost everyone had started preparing. "Let's bring some of the food and eat on the way."

They were one of the late people to head out of the palace. The wizened butler already knew this was going to happen beforehand and so he had already prepared a VTOL subspace air carrier as their transport. Master Butler nodded attentively and showed her the way to the ship that he had just prepared for her.

"The last one was named Sousha", the butler said while giving her a dossier of the contestants for this event. "Maybe you can learn more about her in the next events."

Eri smiled as they both boarded the carrier, "You're dependable as ever, Master. Let's hurry up so we could get some time with the contestants."

[[Heading to Tessarel]]  

[BlazingDan]

Batim's eye strayed straight past the clock, he was far too busy at the moment. The quick echo of footprints down the hall alerted him that something was happening, though.
Bursting through the door was the tofty haired aristocrat he'd befriended earlier, looking rather flustered. "G-good thing I came looking for you!!" he stammered, trying to catch his breath. "Why are you still here? You're supposed to be at Tesarel-"
But he stopped mid sentence, staring at the large mass of chewed bones and sinew half-squashed into the carpet. "You really ate them?! Right here with all these windows?! Anyone could have seen you!" Batim just responded with a confused look.
"What is this man talking about?" asked a voice from somewhere to thier left. Turning, Maurice saw that it came from a large monacled chicken sitting on a sofa along with a younger hen in a feather boa who was curled up next to him.
The hen fanned her face and tittered. "Monsier Batim tells such interesting stories!"
The older aristocrat gaped. "But I though... you... he?"
"Are you sure the sun isn't getting to you?" asked Batim, assuming the expression appropriate at the sickbed of a mentally ill child.
Maurice shook his head repeatedly and then hissed "I thought you were going to eat them, not exchange pleasantries!"
Batim looked affronted. "Where I come from, you only eat the chickens that don't wear clothes! It's simple manners, I would never have even thought of it!"
"Then what about that?!" yelled Maurice, pointing at the bloody mess in the center of the room.
"I was just saying that the queen has such sublime taste in modern art. What a lovely curio!" exclaimed the rooster.
"Fine! Fine and dandy!" squeaked the elderly man, trying to cover up his assumptions. "It's very nice! But we can't just sit here chatting, all the candidates have to find thier way to Tesarel!"
"Oh, is that now?" aksed Batim, not particularly concerned. "Why don't you escort these two delightful fowl to thier transport and I'll meet you all there. On second thoughts, I don't trust you. Professor Chickle, Madame DeClucky, can you find your way back to your carriage alright on your own? I'll take this crazed lunatic with me."
The two giant chickens exchanged farewells and left, looking slightly disappointed at having to end such a nice conversation because of some mad old man bursting in. Batim waited until they had turned the corridor, then started stripping off his trousers.
"What on earth are you doing now? Such impunity!"
"Oh don't be such a prude, we're both men here."
"I don't like where this is going!"
The brown-haired man finsihed folding his clothes into a pile, but held a cushion up over his manparts. "This better?"
"...It was nice talking to you again, but I think I'd better go now." mumbled Maurice, running off out of the room.
"Geez, I just didn't want to ruin this suit! It was expensive!" barked Batim as he morphed into a long-tailed wolf. "Jumping to conclusions is one of you posh people's greatest faults."
And with that he picked up his clothes carefully in his teeth and bounded out through the window. With a brief sniff of the air he caught the scent of the many posh perfumes that comprised the other entrants, and set off at a run to follow them to Tesarel.

(To tesarel!!)