The Afternoon Rush [InfernalZero/Cecil]

What...what had he ordered...?
They said something spicier, but this...?
This was beyond what he'd expected. What he perhaps, could ever have expected. That description was one death flag after another, an invitation to oblivion that would make Satan himself cringe should they be faced with it.
He would normally take a moment to ponder at this moment if Satan was actually real and lurking around somewhere, what with the things that had been uncovered in the Divide, but this was a dish that would know if you were ignoring it and make you regret ever doing such.


Cecil was never, ever, ever going to finish this on this day he had been presented it, fully aware that eventually his tolerance would be reached and he would wish for the sweet release of death to make the coming suffering cease.


But until that time came, he would aggressively attack the dish in an attempt to get through all he could, eager to test his tolerances to their breaking point and then further.

...he needed to come back here for another attempt at some point.

Cecil had bested many foes in his short time as a terrorist. Countless demons, a District Leader, and even his own doubts and inner fears on occasion.

This was not a foe he could best. This was not a foe that could be bested by mortal men.

Try as he might the dish would burn and scald his mouth with searing, ceaseless heat. It would attack his innards with the cruelest of hellfire and burn its way through to his soul. Should he try to do so he would only find an agony without description, but if it could be penned in words "vomit-inducing" might be pretty damn close. May he find God in his next visit to the restroom, for no one else could help him there.

It truly was a spicy dish worth his boldness but perhaps his boldness was not worth the tonkatsu curry that taunted him with its pungent, nostril-burning aroma and deadly taste. Edward, as if sensing the psychic cry of distress, approached Cecil's table with his notepad in hand. Noticing what would still be a half-eaten suicide letter on the table he'd comment,
"....finding everything okay?" with a raise of an eyebrow.

It burned. Oh god, did it burn. The curry seared and scorched all it touched, igniting anything organic foolish enough to make contact - only really, he couldn't call that description accurate, for the tonkatsu would have been disgusted with the mildness of the terms applied. It did not roast tastebuds. It did not burn flesh. It was not lava in edible form, for lava would appear frigid when placed aside this dish. The fire seeped through Cecil's body until his being was heat itself, threatening to make ash of his flesh and soul.

He had actually been set on fire, before, but this curry put that to shame.

And the fact this was near twisted rapture to him made him question just how terrible a state his mind had become for this to be so. He had certain suspicions this was just a coping mechanism for the pain, but it seemed entirely possible his mind had been restructured to take pleasure from the agonising substances that constituted his current state of being.

Still, his mind could take no more. Will would only take one so far when the flesh was weak and much louder in its protests.

Swallowing, Cecil went for his glass to find it torturously vacant. He looked up to Edward, his voice coming out in a rasp as his mouth tried to decide whether it was shaping into a smile or a grimace. "Yeah. Just...think it's time to call it quits and get the bill" He looked down at the dish, shaking his head. "Next time...next time."

Edward did not openly judge Cecil for not being able to finish his tonkatsu. It was a very spicy dish and he had already had something similar already. To have a fair chance he probably should have had an entire pitcher of water as well but it was what it was. Though, to be perfectly honest, most people did not order the tonkatsu curry at its hottest. Nor did Edward typically serve it at its hottest, but the customer was always right and the boy seemed to be satisfied enough.
"Very well..." he droned, scribbling on his notepad before ripping the page out and settling it onto the table, "I'll remember." His words, while emotionless, held a certain ominous air to them.

After giving the young man the check the chef swiftly turned on his heel to head back to the kitchen, motioning over his shoulder.
"Bring the bill to the register whenever you're ready. They have to-go boxes there if you'd like to take your meal with you." And without many more pleasantries he would return to his station. There were hungry mouths to feed. He couldn't afford to slow down for simple pleasant conversation.

He nods. "Gotcha."
Agh...it was still so, so hot. It was going to be a long trip home, and he was probably going to be hitting the water again if he didn't just empty out the milk first.
Hell, it would probably be the milk, then the water.
And yet in spite of it all, he still wanted to do this again. Crazy ideas were already stirring in his mind as Edward brought up the to-go boxes.
...well, he was paying for it anyway. Might as well take the remains with him for later...