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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
29.13 m
Wingspan
19.34 m
Weight
8199.07 kg
Genetics
Oilslick
Savannah
Savannah
Oilslick
Safari
Safari
Chocolate
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Imperial
EXP: 406 / 5545
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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♕ S C U N N E R The Cook ╰ ╭  ╰ ╭ 
MARIELA
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JERICHO
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BRIANNA
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Ill Tempered | Irritable | Messy ╰ bio template by squidragon adapted by Katalist
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A terrible cook, oh he is.
One of the oldest in the Tribe, yet still can't grow a proper beard. It's a sore spot.
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I stared at it silent, and struggled to speak - It glanced from an eye, with the hint of a beak; A soupy suggestion of wings and a leg; A half-finished creature, inside of an egg. 'You want me to eat it?' I asked with a frown: 'To feast on a fetus and swallow it down? To crunch it for lunch or to munch it for tea?' 'Oh yes,' he replied, '... it's a delicacy.'
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Scunner’s food never started out great, and his time at the little pub never helped; some would say the food even got worse. Others say his presence at the pub drove the popularity down, but what they don’t realise, and what he and Jericho base their business on, is that most of the patrons are too drunk to notice what is placed under their noses. Also, his food gets thrown around in drunken fights often. He doesn’t care, if it’s being produced. He has a pet coralclimber called Nox, who kind of stuck on him one day and refused to let go. He often threatens to boil it, but the lack of boiled coralclimber on his menu indicates he has a little soft spot for him. Scunner will breed with Myopia, but has no interest in being a loving father. He has thrown children out of his kitchens before, sometimes with a half-boiled pot of gruel after them. His penchant for wasting food is common, it seems.
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“How the hell am I supposed to stay calm!?” Sludge sighed, “I know it's a bit of an inconv-” Scunner spun around, pointing a clawed finger at him in warning. “Don't even. go. there.” Sludge sighed, rubbing his hands together. “I understand that you're upset but there's nothing we can do. Do we not have any food?” Scunner ran a hand down his face, “There are around 100 dragons in the swamp at any one time, let alone whoever pops through for a smoko, how do you expect me to keep my business open if our food delivery is DELAYED!” “We're trying to get the shipment in but the low tides are making it difficult. You were a pirate once before, you bloody lizard. Don't push your lack of management on Glademother's dominance. Make soup or something.” Scunner glared at the swinging door and huffed, turning around to glare at the near empty storage room. A whine drew his attention to his coralclimber, who was watching him worriedly on the counter. He sighed loudly, running his hands over his head and removed his shabby hat to rub his head properly. His jaw ached from the punch he got last night. “I don't know how we're going to do this, Nox.” No response came from Nox, his attention on a fly. Running across the counters, he dove off after it, smacking into Scunner's shoulder. Shaking his head, he crawled back up his arm and perched himself there as Scunner rummaged through the storage room. “What to make, what to make...ugh!” He slammed the drawer shut. Gathering a bundle of ingredients he did have, he pushed Nox off his arm, and placed everything on the counter. There was a mix-match of sprouting onions, rotten garlic, mouldy tomatoes, and other greens. An onion rolled off and fell off the floor, releasing a pungent smell into the room. He kicked it under the counter, where he heard it hit something. Bending down, he pulled out an old lizard corpse. Meat still stuck to the bones, but it was dry and the bones brittle. An idea popped in his mind. He glanced behind him and rolled an onion between his hands as he considered his idea. Putting the onion down, he strolled over to the coldstore and opened it to stare at the ribcage of the nearly picked clean bird of last night's dinner. He could cook with that, and the lizard...and he probably had enough ingredients... Suddenly getting excited, he shut the door and pranced to the storage. “Come on, Nox! Let's make soup!”
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ETYMOLOGY - Scunner - Verb “feel disgust or strong dislike.” RELATIONS -
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