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Old February 27th, 2017 (1:30 AM). Edited May 9th, 2017 by Who's Kiyo?.
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Who's Kiyo? Who's Kiyo? is offline
puking rainbows
 
Join Date: Jun 2011
Location: Olivine City
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Nature: Quirky
Posts: 3,221


IC Thread
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Workshop Thread
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Bosses
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Staff
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Customers
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Locations
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FAQ
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Fan Art
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may i speak to the manager?


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This aging Trumbeak is Carmine, the Maî·tre D', and he has been in the business longer than you have been alive, but don't let the thin round-frame glasses and graying feathers deceive you: his spry figure and keen sense of eyesight grant him near omnipresence. He doubles as the employee manager, and therefore has the ability to benefit or fire anyone he pleases. One would be correct in describing his demeanor as cold and nervous, but he also loves novelty, considers himself a part-time scholar, and is nothing short of a perfectionist. Impress him, and you've got a loyal and powerful ally.

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No one is sure why Lombardi, the Chef considers herself a gentle giant, but perhaps it's the environment of the restaurant that sparks the Typhlosion to be incredibly hard and demanding. Her ferocious demeanor is complimented by her looming presence and ear piercings, and when the going gets tough, you can expect her to throw temper tantrums so horrendous that it seems like she's willing to dirty her apron with your blood. Although she might be secretive and disorganized, she does have her soft spots for corny jokes and is very generous. Get on her good side, and you might reap interesting gifts.

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PJ Clarke, the Janitor has been at the restaurant since the beginning, making all the chalk drawings and doing every odd-job that Carmine can't be bothered with. It's odd for a shiny Spinda to resolve himself to a life wearing a pair of coveralls and a cute little cap, but he seems to enjoy the work and has incredible mechanical skills. While his way of speaking can be non-sequitur and his tendency to suddenly appear disconcerting, he's a good-natured fellow with a big heart for the other employees. Reciprocating this friendliness might let you in on secrets about the staff, setting, or clientele.

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excuse me, garçon?


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Life has never been the same for B.T., the Rotom since he died. After a brief attempt to regain his memories, he dropped the subject to instead focus on settling the dissonance between his emotionless outward expression and his vicious inner monologue. While his ability to switch out of his typical light-bulb appearance and into other electronics has proven useful in his new job, his general lack of understanding on how organic beings operate and socialize have lead to many a stilted exchange. He is played by Ihsaan, and is represented with the Dairy (Cheese) icon.

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It's not a usual sight to see a literal child taking your order in a bourgeois bistro, but Bailey, the Ralts is not a usual boy. He provides contrast to his family's acclaim in the liberal arts by being deeply interested in science, specifically that which involves the biology of the strange, insentient creatures known as "Prey." Behind a permanent smile and a cartoonishly oversized bowtie is an intelligence far beyond that of his years, and while he makes an effort to come off as pleasant, some can't help but feel unsettled by the lad. He is played by Jauntier, and is represented with the Vegetable (Carrot) icon.

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Bred to be the latest iteration in a long line of impeccable butlers, Cadbury, the Linoone finds it necessary to hold his duties at the restaurant to a high standard. He is incredibly well-versed in etiquette and genteel, but may falter at times and come off as stuffy as his clothing choices; one wouldn't be far off in assuming that he's a bit bothered by the fact that he's "in-between masters." Unprofessionalism may inspire an odd streak of biting mental commentary, but he's more often than not polite, helpful, and prone to strategic compliments. He is played by Afterglow Ampharos, and is represented with the Grain (Bread) icon.

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She may go by many names - Dikeledi to her stern father, Qui-Qui to friends - but underneath all those monikers and a sea of eccentric clothing and make-up, lies one Daiquiri, the Salazzle. Her accent hints to an upbringing in a distant desert town, but her jargon draws from a plethora of sources ranging from her own imagination to a bygone human culture romanticized in her urban fashion magazines; the combination of which may confuse a stuffed shirt or two if they end up on the receiving end of her scathing wit. She is played by Your Daily Vitamins, and is represented with the Meat (Bacon) icon.

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Vissi D'Arte, the Primarina left her career as the lead singer of the Indigo Spots to discover herself. Her past is one spotted with illness and the feeling of being pitied, and while she does what she can to put it all behind her - from covering up her melancholy mood with overly theatrical dialogue to dressing up her already unique appearance as a shiny - it has molded her personality to one plagued by listless, conflicted desire. She may feel that she has never conveyed a true emotion, but the melodrama she brings is palpable. She is played by Ech, and is represented with the Fruit (Apple) icon.

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It's obvious that Jean-Georges, the Busboy grew up in an old-style colony; the genuine curiosity the Octillery has for his surroundings can't be described as anything other than childishly enthusiastic. He's unused to his body - having only recently evolved - and wears a standard Finer Things bowtie around his neck, albeit crooked. He's eager to impress and has a tendency to only vocalize in traditional cries; one gets the feeling that he's lonely, but his mood rarely drops below fervent optimism. He understandably has never used any of his moves, since he's a dedicated pacifist.

Spoiler:

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Secret. Unknown.

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can i make a reservation?


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Aureole, the Military Scientist is a Shiinotic approaching her twilight years with dried, veiny skin and a cap reminiscent of a browning morel mushroom. Though she offsets her appearance with a set of deadstock chic hoop earrings and an opal bracelet-choker combo, her penchant for giving backhanded compliments only reinforces the idea that she's an embittered socialite that cheats during her weekly mahjong meeting; which she does. She drinks colorful varieties of liquor to lighten herself up, but that does nothing to alleviate her obsession with etiquette and visceral hatred of dirt.

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If the fiery flash of a camera suddenly engulfs your vision, you can bet you're the next topic of Claudette, the Journalist's gossip column. A tomboy in a pair of itchy plaid tweed slacks, she frequently snaps her suspenders and proudly totes a press pass in the headband of her fedora. Nobody would say the Stunky knows the definition of subtlety or what an "inside voice" is, and her passion for scribbling down "the scoop" has deteriorated her penmanship and ability to tell when someone else is speaking. The only kept thing about her is her magnificent hair quaff; evocative of Marilyn.

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Secret. Recently discovered that she is nearly ready to spawn an egg as the result of a drunken affair she had on her last field assignment; which is threatening to ruin her career and relationship with her girlfriend.

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The iconic "Pink Lemonade"-colored aviator sunglasses worn by Delmonico, the Pianist are a marvel specially crafted to hold amphraosite in the bridge, but many prefer to dwell on how dreamy his beard is; marking how it curls at the end like an Egyptian postiche. He wears a playful and easygoing demeanor both onstage and off, but the melancholy of his tunes hold hints to a storied past that he skillfully avoids talking about. He walks with a limp, but many are too distracted by the tasteful yet sultry pieces of body art that comprise a tattoo sleeve on his tail to notice.

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Gramercy, the Curator may come off as blissfully pedantic, emanating oddity as he stands solely on his hind legs, but the art scene would be nothing without his sponsorship. He can't see well out of the magnifying glass he calls a monocle, so he trusts the green antennae he has shaped into a voluptuous handlebar mustache to do much of the work when he appraises. Being asked about his life might inspire the Vibrava to boast about his muddy treks across the world, though nowadays he wears a pristine red tuxedo jacket with black lapels and an intricately designed bolo tie encrusted with red jewels.

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Bloodshot eyes seem to have become Kreuther, the Nurse's calling card. Today is a rare occasion when the Kabutops doesn't work a fifteen-hour shift, but judging by her get-up - a navy blue floor-length dress covered first by a white apron and an armband indicative of the hospital and then by a collared cape - she wasn't expecting to be here. Her constant fidgeting implies discomfort, but since her eccentric mind is always a million miles away, don't expect a coherent answer if you ask her what's wrong. Some wonder how that nurse's cap stays so faithfully on her head, especially during one of her violent outbursts.

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There has never been a being so disturbingly unoffensive as Lincoln, the Groundskeeper. Since he became the cemetery's caretaker, he has been the victim of many rumors; not helped by nearby businesses who encourage such tales to boast him as a tourist attraction. To his credit, he's a unique Chandelure, who ditches the candle look for a gas light appearance and has more natural ornamentation dangling off his limbs than usual. He makes a habit of meticulously tending to his flowers, and is either indifferent or ambivalent towards having company; it's hard to tell, the man doesn't say much.

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The world of fashion moves too quickly for Morimoto, the Designer to find any time to sleep. It's a wonder why the Wurmple is so insecure and twitchy when his distinct avant-garde style is well-received by the public, but nonetheless he compensates by prominently displaying his forehead horn underneath his top hat: a tame choice for this event, accented well by a curling Baile Oricorio feather tucked into its headband. He always seems to be intensely staring at something right in front of him and is brutally incessant; viewing most people as unsympathetic, uncultured swines with no taste for true art.

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The life of Perry, the Lawyer has been marked with chronic illness, but the Barbaracle does what she can to cover up her condition; her bubbly personality will grab your attention if her cateye glasses don't, and one can barely see all the disgusting barnacles underneath her fur shawl and velvet arm warmers. Her dedication towards emulating a glamorous femme fatale would on any other woman of her status be en vogue, but on her seem clunky and overtly flirtatious. She can be seen pointing accusatory diamond-ringed fingers and struggling to walk in her stilettos or see past the fishnet veil coming out of her hat.

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Rivage, the Actress' curly, shiny mane still retains that bombshell style it did when it graced movie screens, although its light is fading. Her demure sensibility and approach to life allows the Rapidash to be nostalgic instead of upset that her glory days are over, but she does love proving that she can fit into that gray wool dress coat with black velvet and rhinestone accents that she popularized. She tires easily, often sitting down like a canine, and worries that her later life won't be exciting; to push off this fear, she buys lots of trinkets, like the crystal flower earrings she's wearing.

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It was Scarpetta, the Radio Personality's voice that landed him his job, because his resume was as unprofessional as he is. Most of his relationships fall apart due to his smug and entitled behavior, but that hasn't stopped people from loving him right down to his poofy pompadour. He's become somewhat of a leader for the local counterculture, inspiring him to throw on pants and a jacket made of black denim over his multicolored striped polo shirt, and lacing up in a pair of work boots to "stomp the haters." Dispositions aside, he's incredibly intelligent.

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Standing and weighing way beyond Super Size, Smith, the Judge's pronounced belly tilts his head back, and the Pumpkaboo resembles an ornamental pumpkin: mostly a healthy yellow color, but toting splotches of forest green and white bumps in-between crevices. He enjoys conversation and has a hearty chuckle - not that you can see his mouth moving past his impressive beard - but ultimately comes off as dimwitted. Some are unsure how he secured his profession, but he's hard to dislike; talented at maintaining positive relationships, and always up to hear a good story while he puffs his pipe.

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After Union, the Pilot figured out how to restart a few vehicles and a plane, he now monopolizes the travel industry, but years ago he was just three unevolved soldiers: Madison, who wears a black pilot cap decorated with badges of honor and has an itchy trigger finger; Square, the detail-orientated one in the brown fur aviator hat; and Parker, who unfortunately is covered in gauze and never opens his eyes past a squint. They all have red magnet hands with white tips, scratches and dents from battle, and speak from the same gung-ho and belligerent hivemind that never absorbed the fact that the war is over.

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Call her old-fashioned, but Westway, the Vintner loves matching the band on her straw boater to her collared ties; tonight's choice being her classic yellow-red-black striped one. It's odd someone so argumentative and opinionated tends towards lively colors, but maybe that's her fastidious side coming out; she's long kept a reputation for being organized and efficient. Perhaps has a tendency to rush and has trouble relaxing, but is certainly one of the most introspective and quick-witted snarkers in the city. She loves the outdoors, and the steely parts of her body are textured and slightly blanched from the sun.
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can i get a tour of the place?


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The restaurant was converted from the old Wishmaker Church, boasting an attractive stonework Storefront and an ornate wooden entrance. The priests were known for their love of arboriculture, and long ago planted seeds that now stand beside the structure as picturesque autumn-colored Bell Tower trees. The well to the left of the building became a firepit for those who want to take advantage of the idyllic outdoor setting. Remains of gutted interior walls were repurposed as material for a garden path that travels through the pit area towards the front steps of the Patio Conservatory.

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The congregation now consists of wealthy clientele trying to get a table, and pews are lined up in the Foyer containing menus for them to leaf through as they wait. While the room has been accused of being excessively cold, it’s beautifully decorated: rows of stain-glass windows transmute all varieties of light into intricate patterns, and the walls hold up memorabilia, accolades, and expensive knickknacks. Anyone hankering for chit-chat can utilize the two payphones hung up opposite the Coat Check and Office, or hit up the host standing behind a podium just right of the restaurant proper.

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A chalkboard on the right of the Coat Check no longer teaches psalms, and is instead used to note who submitted their fog jackets and synthetic furs to temporarily take up residence along four large clothes racks. The wall of cubbies in the back claims to be a Lost and Found, hiding its true nature as a hungry beast that draws all missing items into its maw: it has become a museum of abandoned tchotchkes, never to be returned to their owner. Those banished to work their shift here are urged to not touch anything as they stand behind a halved door and are forced to wear a green concierge hat.

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A locked door and the shadow of the Owner as they pass by the tinted window is all that you've been permitted to know about the Office. Rumors about it spring up whenever it's a slow day, which include but are certainly not limited to: it actually being an elevator to a lush underground hotel, where your boss performs unholy rituals to keep the business afloat, it being entirely constructed out of candy, etc. Chances are it's just a regular office, but that hasn't stopped all of the non-paycheck staff from participating in a betting pool to see who can get in and take a picture of the room first.

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All the real action takes place in the Dining Room to the sound of smooth jazz, the waiters trying to avoid smashing into the extensive salad bar and weave through crowds enjoying the vintage industrial atmosphere. Two spiral staircases lead up to a balcony that snakes around the perimeter of the room; the live entertainment usually stations themselves right above the bar where the organ pipes live. One could probably reach the hatch to the bell tower from up there, if it wasn’t guarded by a Chandelure that hangs above the space acting as decoration and the restaurant’s bouncer.

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Often bought out by private parties, the Patio Conservatory caters those who want a slower-paced experience underneath the stars and be pampered a little more than usual. Most of the flower arrangements and troughs of plantlife were purchased from a floral shop in Jubilee, and depending on your tastes, they have made the space smell either fragrant or disgusting; if you’re of the latter opinion, sticks of cleansing incense are laid out on every table. Those scientific few among you should know that amid the wicker chairs is a telescope right next to the old-fashioned record player.

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The introduction of tufted brown leather furniture and well-loved ashtrays has transformed this small library into a quiet Cigar Lounge for esteemed businessmen to deliberate risky propositions. The lights are dimmed to a cordial gleam, providing plenty of shadows for staff to remain discreet as they deliver expensive smokes to intellectuals. It's pretty difficult to breathe in here if you're not used to the smell and thickness of the air, but the room can prove indispensable if you're looking for an antique book to read. Honored guests wait here and are served tapas instead of freezing in the Foyer.

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The Lavatories, sans an emergency chemical shower and eyewash station in each, are still original. While clean, the doors are prone to giving splinters and the faucets never provide anything above a begrudging tepid. There’s the standard set of two: one for gentlemen and one for ladies, but those without biological sex can just use whatever they’re comfortable with. Each one's the same, after all: with a row of stalls, sinks, mirrors, and a tiny restocking closet with a dirt floor. Attendants are sometimes stationed here, providing complimentary peppermints as you leave!

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All the shiny silver stoves and shelves makes the Kitchen a tight squeeze; the only way to navigate the room is through a disjointed one-person lane carved out betwixt all the equipment. It also wasn’t renovated all that well, so the floor and ceiling threaten to cave in from water damage. Temperaments often spike during the lunch and dinner rushes, so if you find yourself in this cave of pots and ladles, be weary of flour avalanches and literal or emotional wounds. For convenience, food and order tickets should be placed near the stainless steel doors to the Dining Room.

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The small apricorn Orchard has added organic produce to the restaurant's inventory as well as make it an attractive location for wedding receptions and romantic moonlit walks. Within the adorable Johto-inspired gazebo in the center of the garden - which boasts an eclectic set of fruits and vegetables that customers are free to purchase - is an old projector that one can point into the darkness and imitate anything from stars to blinking fireflies. Many enjoy a cup of tea here while they try to reconnect with nature, which is oddly easy to do as all sounds of the city disappear when you get near the area.

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Behind the restaurant is the Back Alley, where employees dispose of waste in huge dumpsters and occasionally shoot the breeze over a cigarette. The adjacent buildings are mainly multi-family housing projects and other businesses, and the residents have taken to stringing up lanterns from windows and fire-escapes. The most interesting feature has to be the out-of-commission fountain that remains mounted in the middle of the alleyway, which people have fashioned into a makeshift shrine to the forgotten Wishmaker; leaving random baubles and dangling trinkets off it as offerings.

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Electric lights were never installed down in the Wine Cellar so oil lamps are provided at the bottom of the stairs. It's a shame everything is covered in a fine layer of dust, because the place's labyrinthine design really speaks volumes of inspiration. It contains what you'd expect: bottles in racks, barrels, mixers, surplus deliveries, creaky floorboards, and a washing machine where the laundry shoot drops off. There’s a hallway-like Mechanics room off to the side that contains the boiler and other important maintenance machinery. Some say it's haunted, even after the ghost-type squatters were forcibly evicted.

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Finding no purpose in keeping a series of old bedrooms in a restaurant, the Owner knocked down the walls to make room for a massive walk-in Cold Storage. The temperature only gets more frigid and harsh the farther you walk in, and it’s easy to lose your footing as you try to navigate floors that would feel more at home inside a skating rink. In a rather callous display towards the history of the establishment, many relics and ancient artworks from the original church that weren’t able to be pawned off or couldn’t serve decorative purposes now lay forgotten here.


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what are today's specials?


Spoiler:
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Ability, Nature, and Mega-Evolution. These things can be interpreted into your character's descriptive quirks or cosmetics; but do not give any mechanical advantages. The only thing you need to trigger Mega Evolution is to incorporate the appropriate stone somewhere in your appearance; I ask you stick with your chosen form: don't constantly shift in-and-out.

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Aesthetic. The filter is 50's America, making all the buildings, technology, clothes, and music appear as they did during that time: the payphones in the foyer look like (this) and journalists use cameras like (this), while affluent lady customers sport looks reminiscent of (this) and their gentlemen callers woo them in garb like (this). Cars, trains, radios, newsprint, and TVs have been reclaimed but advanced things like the internet, cellular devices, and computers have not. As for time-period slang, I don't mind either way; I'm not requiring it or denying the usage of modern slang.

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Aging and Education. You are sorted into age groups based off where you are developmentally, as any person's aging system is going to be different than their neighbor's. This disparity puts a wrench into traditional schooling, so institutions cater to every student's needs individually, making formal education a bit of a luxury. Teaching a certain trade, homeschooling, or a schoolhouse-esc approach is more common in the world.

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Credit. That would go to (Ech) for mugshots of Carmine, Lombardi, and PJ Clarke! Additional credits are to the Official Pokémon Anime and TCG, IconsDB, iFunny, Tumblr, safebooru, Louis Armstrong, and DeviantArt (BetaPunkDrawings, ChiuuChiuu, evilapple513, HacheDerizador, Kairyu, kei05, Mister-Markers, winter freak, MoonyWings, Zerochan923600.)

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Food Chain. While certain dishes include things that were produced by Pokémon physiology (like Slowpoke Tails), no-one at the restaurant is being served soylent green. Meat comes from non-sentient critters known as "prey" that are nondescript like a silhouette, and resemble small things like insects, fish, and mice. But back in the day, predatory systems were totally a thing, and some feral colonies still exist. Play on your instinctual fears if you want, but keep in mind that unabashedly hating certain species will be treated akin to bigotry.

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Humans. No one is sure why or how they faded into antiquity, but they weren't apocalyptically wiped out by some disaster. They more slowly and quietly began to disappear, as if they were just migrating to somewhere else, before vanishing completely. After some period of abandonment, Pokémon took over their role, and anything they didn't reclaim got overtaken by nature. Those who have faint childhood memories of humanity have become relics themselves.

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Job. You're a multi-purpose server that is expected to be able to do anything on a whim, because that position accommodates both the mechanics of the roleplay and justifies your ability to move freely around the building and take on a variety of tasks. Your character can think of this job as the first step to getting a permanent one within this particular establishment, having aspirations to be a Cook or Manager, if you want.

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Moves. Disclosed put it best when she said: "I don't consider moves to be anything more than a concept to categorize 'acceptable' techniques for activities like battling. Every 'new' move is really just a different, discovered way to apply a Pokémon's natural abilities." Suddenly engaging in battle is discouraged in civilized society, but that doesn't mean they're prohibited from happening in the roleplay. And remember, moves can prove useful in other ways.

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Seasoning and Utensils. You might get "Seasoned," a catch-all term for any condition that affects your character's physical or mental status. A "Utensil" is a special item identified by the GM, and you are permitted to hold up to two at any given time. If you want to pick up a third, you must drop one.

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Setting. We're in a city in the same undisclosed region as "Cornered on the Market!" Unless circumstances bring you to another location - that I will flesh out - we will contain the action to the restaurant. This isn't to say you can't mention other places, I simply ask that you let me dictate the state of the world. Canon regions do exist and they are inhabited by Pokémon now, but they are very far away. The vast majority of citizens that live in the city were born in this region.
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can i get a doggy bag?


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By (auzdragun)
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By (derFisch)
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By (Ech)
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By (Foxrally)
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By (Jauntier)
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hugh holland in "cracks: a sinnoh story"
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