Glutton
This design document was once implemented, but has since been removed from Ephemeral Space.
The following reason was given for its removal: "The less-interesting sibling of the Guzzler. This is more of a general design lesson about freaks, but as we've developed masks and moved away from more explicit social deduction elements within the gameplay itself, the idea of costuming a mask as a specific action to drive away suspicion never became a thing. In general, people just engage in far more normal deceit and subterfuge rather than playing 4-D chess and emptying snack vendors in order to give themselves cover which doesn't hold up under scrutiny."
Name: Glutton
Troupe: Crew
Description: There's a lot of food in this world, and someone's gotta eat it. Dig in.
Objectives: Eat X amount of unique foods during the round, as well as 1 specific random (from a list) food.
All things in this world are either Chef or Glutton. You are more akin to the apollonian Chef. I am clearly the dionysian Glutton.
Concept
The Glutton is a lover of all types of cuisine, and seeks out many types of new foods to try, functioning as a sort of food variant of the Guzzler. They will likely pester the chef, their archnemesis who the Glutton nevertheless cannot survive without, for more foodstuffs. However, it's likely any real Glutton will view this as insufficient and will opt for their own cooking--including some perhaps unsavory meals in the shadows made from the bodies of vermin in maintenance. It's possible the Glutton's exotic taste will even veer into the illegal, if some organs are left unattended.
Abilities
N/A.
Gameplay
It's difficult to tell for certain if someone is a Glutton, since everyone needs to eat. Their need for new foods will probably lead them into strange interactions, especially since it doesnt have be a cooked meal. Eating organs is an obvious avenue--which may make them appear like a Cannibal. Trawling through maintenance for weird foods and for exotic fauna to eat may lead them into conflict with any number of masks. The chef might be happy that someone appreciates their cooking, but they're unlikely to be happy for long with someone who essentially operates like a human mouse eating everything in sight.