On a Search for Knowledge [of materials] (Party of 2; open)

[Frederick Cooper]

A lot of bad things had been going on recently. Really bad things. Annoying things, too, but the badness was prevalent all over the place. Seriously, he was getting tired of the RPG shit. Even if he was getting stronger. Getting stronger was nice, but if it was only for the sake of these things, it was a bit disappointing. However, it was not a time for sorrow nor frustration. It was not the place for contemplation nor brooding.

Instead, it was the time and place for sampling. There was one thing that people absolutely needed to not misunderstand. It wasn't that he was eating food for the sake of eating food. No, the trail of packages he left opened was a sign of his crusade of quality testing. The taste, texture, and general specs of each component of a sandwich were important. It would not do to put dust among diamonds. Naturally, it was unlikely that he'd find anything truly good, but if he found certain materials that were good, he could do some homework to figure out where the unprocessed bits could be found.

That was why he could so casually try those packages. Ax in hand. Monsters around. It was all business.

[Jacob Peeters]

Jacob walked up to the warped sight of the local supermarket he normally knew. The dark hour, twisted as it was. Had warped the place into something seemingly recognizable, but subtly off. Of course, Jacob, being a driven investigator of the occult going-ons, didn't hesitate to walk right in.

Jacob's wandering soon uncovered something rather unusual. Throughout the aisles, there were quite a few packaged foods that had been torn open, just a few bites taken out off, and then thrown aside. This thought of pointlessly wasting food didn't sit well with Jacob. People had expended time out of their life to make and package those foods, and by god was he not gonna stand for someone wasting that time and effort.

He followed the trail and came upon a person, in the process of tearing open yet another package of foodstuffs. "Hey! You know there are people who'd kill for that food you're wasting right now, dont you? Cut it out!"

Jacob knew it probably wasn't wise to make a scene in the middle of the dark hour, but the man had struck a pet peeve of his, and he was not going to just let this go.

[Satanick]

Mayo Maya
Resist: Ice
Weak: Fire
Skills: Cleave, Bufu

Turnip Tiara
Resist: Lightning
Weak: Wind
Skills: Zio, Assault Dive

Brownie Balance
Resist: Darkness
Weak: Light
Skills: Mudo, Media

[Frederick Cooper]

It was a matter of fact that Frederick would likely not find a single adequate sample. This was true. However, something rippled through the air that disturbed his testing. If it had just been noise, it wouldn't have bothered the man too much. Instead, it seemed that this person was accusing him of wasting food. This stranger, who knew nothing about him or his methods, was accusing him, who loathed imbecilic employees that left milk out, of wasting food. Once the man had swallowed the slice of sandwich meat, he promptly closed the container, setting it on the edge of the cooled shelves. That was the same process he went through with anything that was capable of being closed. Slowly, he turned to face the other person. His expression? Devoid of warmth. It was a dull, clearly unhappy, expression that lacked compassion or sympathy.

”Wasting, you say?” Frederick took a step towards this unenlightened man. ”Ha. That's honestly a laugh. A laugh dryer than badly-prepared turkey. Let me clarify something, man: I don't waste food. To do so would be to stand in complete opposition of my job. The only thing 'wasted' here is the market value of items sold as a bunch, as opposed to individual units. However, this does not mean a thing. And I will, with great annoyance, explain to you why. First off, have you noticed exactly what the expiration dates on the packages I opened were? I'm assuming you were following me here using the trail on the shelves. Let's start there, then.” The man's ax rested on his shoulder, blades spinning as he whirled the grip like a sort of odd shoulder-rubber.

”The dates were soon to expire. This particular location has a manager that's extraordinarily bad about that sort of thing- keeping food here and letting it expire and rot. Now, let me explain why I selected those, and the timing, to do this. First off, there's going to be an inspection here tomorrow. Why do I know about it? Connections. The higher-ups know about these issues, and they're going to look into it. Following that, they'll be clearing house of goods nearly expired. They'll likely be thrown out- truly wasted. However, that's not a matter for you to be concerned with. Between these opened packs and the others nearly expired, I'll be making a suggestion. A charity event sort of thing. Free food for those around. Including those that would 'kill for it'. This act would boost public relations, not only serving to produce an excellent amount of traffic to clear up the dated products, but it'd also increase the shopping traffic, lowering the amount of goods that are in-store. In other words, decreasing the overall waste.” Whether he was bullshitting or not wouldn't be immediately obvious. But the truth of the matter was that he, as a small business owner-slash-manager, had connections with certain suppliers. While he might not have been interested in business, or good at it, back at graduation, he had picked up some savviness in recent times.

”Don't accuse me of wasting food, you ignorant shit. While I don't care about their market value, I'll see to it that the products themselves aren't wasted. Even if the quality is lackluster.” The last few words were more of a tangent, an observation from a professional. The words trailed off on a slightly higher note, as though he was distracted by that. ”Anyway. I think your out of place, misunderstood, and unneeded shouting got some of these shits to come for us. If you have energy to get angry and criticize me, you have energy to clean up some of it yourself.” It was clear the man was displeased. Either way, he hefted his ax and got to work.

”Come on, Zouchouten!” Whether it was because he was about to unleash the fury that other man had instilled in him or not wasn't apparent. Either way, he was pretty gung-ho. Mechazou shot at one of the things, a sludgy pile on the floor that looked oddly like mayonnaise. Its hand grew to massive proportions before literally squishing it under its fist, leaving an odd, white stain on the floor that gradually faded away. It seemed all those fights were paying off. Zouchouten's new attack was pretty powerful. He could probably “graduate” from the safer areas soon. The second thing that appeared was a turnip-colored. . . thing. It fired a bolt of lightning at Frederick. The man shook his head before signaling for Zouchouten to repeat the action. With another Gigantic Fist, the Persona splattered the second enemy, causing it to seemingly explode from the kinetic impact. Kind of like smashing a watermelon. Felt pretty badass, really. The only thing that remained was a. . . brownie-looking thing.

”I'm sure you can handle that.” Frederick observed before calmly dismissing Zouchouten and calmly walking off with a whistle. Despite his earlier anger, he felt pretty happy with the progression of his strength.

[Jacob Peeters]

Jacob was quite taken aback by the sudden, unexpected rant. He only heard half of it, as for the other half, he was cowering with his hands covering his ears. The man was rather right in his assertions, but all that shouting was drowning out whatever reasonable thoughts jacob had.

By the time Jacob had recovered, the man had left. all that was left of his passing were two thoroughly maimed shadows and a third, rather weak one, floundered about in shock. Jacob decided to finish it off quickly. He shot it a few times, observed it feebly trying to envelop him in a patch of animate darkness, and then finished it off with an aimed shot to its mask.

He then stomped out of the supermarket. He was gonna need to find a different source of instant noodles, because by the gods he wasn't coming back to a place managed by a hysterycal fat man.