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Post by Whill Shaman Chrysanthe on Nov 14, 2017 13:38:32 GMT -8
*The Timeline was a gathering place for people of all walks of life. It was perceived as a spacious restaurant and bar, and anyone could attend the parties or discussions within. Framed above the entryway was an artist's interpretation of the god worshiped on Faysbuhk, Mahruk Zu'karberg. If one stared at the portrait, they find, much to their shock, that it would stare back. The restaurant itself was quite sterile in appearance, decorated in a shining white with highlights in blue; the owners had systematically ignored pleas for a darker setting that was less harsh on the eyes, but such was life.
While violence was not forbidden here, casual discussion was encouraged instead, lest one of the patrons hit one of the many "Report" buttons in hopes of removing any offenders from the area.*
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Post by Darth Rigatoni on Nov 14, 2017 18:13:51 GMT -8
*Having gotten quite bored with not existing, Darth Rigatoni decided to gain a presence in the Universe. Hearing of a new establishment located on Faysbukh, and determined to scout the competition to his own cooking, Rigatoni rifted onto the planet, and stood in the middle of the glaringly sterile tiled floor, blinking rapidly as he waited for his eyes to adjust to their ugly surroundings. The Timeline presented a weird feeling, almost as if the culinary arts of the force had been cast backward in time, losing a decade of progress and innovation in the process.*
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Post by Buh Shess Ovluv on Nov 24, 2017 19:02:40 GMT -8
*Buh Shess Ovluv, researcher, romantic, and general oddball could not resist the tales of a strange world of shifting terrain and myriad species, many of which didn't exist elsewhere in the galaxy. Many of them were mundane, such as quite the overabundance of adorable felines. Not nearly as numerous were many canine species, most of which equally handsome, albeit a certain short-legged breed was plainly the most popular. That was to say nothing of a strange seven-legged spide that mysteriously sported an eighth leg when used as a bargaining chip.
He took a break from his research and checked out the Timeline, only to immediate be hit by a sense of overwhelming. Information was rather ever-present here; seemed this was no mere restaurant then. He chatted up the bartender a moment and got a small drink, then took it to a booth in the corner. He pulled out his datapad, requesting his personal AI, saber, run more research on the local fauna. This was far too exciting, and he was going to be sure he cataloged the entire experience.*
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Post by Darth Rigatoni on Dec 1, 2017 20:33:48 GMT -8
*Unable to resist the pull of the culinary arts of the force, Rigatoni decided to check out the kitchen, and maybe help himself to a few pots and pans and a raw steak and some noodles and whatever ingredients might be about. For every degree to which the public side of the house had been sterile and white, the kitchen was equally spic and span, with spotless shining stainless steel counters and appliances that would blind an ordinary man. But Rigatoni had the force as his guide, and he immediately began a thorough examination of the walk-in refrigerator.*
*Ever cautious to conserve energy, he walked over to the door, and rather than opening it, placed both hands upon the metal, closed his eyes and began to focus...*
"Mmmm, carrots... onions... tomatos... prime rib..." *And then he gasped.* "Oh no, the milk is spoiled!"
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