A Warrior in a Garden
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Writing Levels
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Fantasy, SciFi, Modern, Magical
Jin's was next, and significantly larger. Waffles of the same quality. Sides of bacon, sausage links, and eggs, and a separate plate of hash browns with cheese and onions. Best of all, the canid fingers. The best way to cook them, as any scrapper knew, was to fry them in their own fat, reducing the hemolymph within until the flesh was tender and sweet. These were cooked better than any starfield scrapper of half a century could have managed, and as fresh as the day was long.
The other arm bore a bit less of a burden. Hale's apples and eggs had finally arrived, as if the Owner had put off cooking his order until her expected guests had give their own. The protein was fried in the same manner as Louelle's, while the apples had been fried themselves with sugar and cinnamon. Moses merely got a top off for his coffee; he seemed extremely content with that.
Smiling at the group, Ma'am checked the table.
"I'll check back in a bit."
She turned away, four glasses of orange juice somehow accompanying everyone's meals. Moe smiled into his mug, taking a bit sip of the black coffee.
"It's good; you'll enjoy.
"So. Magic and dragons. Mercenaries and Terrans. Classes and the 21st century. This is a thing, ain't it?" He chuckled. "I dunno the how is so important; maybe more the why."
Hale hummed, nodding as he stabbed an apple slice with his fork.
"I agree. It seems intentional, that we should all be gathered here. But for what purpose?"
He took a bite, face pensive.