Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2014 20:38:42 GMT
STATUS | A FAMILIAR PLACE, A FAMILIAR FACE |
HP: 100% MP: 100% - EQUIPMENT - W.A. Longsword (1H) W.A. Tower Shield W.A. Plate Armor SKILLS - None Active - Words: 522 Tags: @0x1dea Notes: This is a solo, what are you doing here. | It was Oxford's favorite time of the day: mid-afternoon after-lunch snack time. He walked through the city's streets, his pet weasel Omo riding on his shoulder. Omo was fascinated with the crowd of people, seeing a lot of strange yet interesting people as the two began to head towards a restaurant the Guardian was familiar with. Unfortunately, I can't remember anything about how the food tastes...probably because I can't even remember the night we all went there... That was a past time, and its memories (or what little remained of those memories) should remain in the past while the present is going on. It's best to let sleeping dogs lie. The Guardian pushed open the doors to the King's Throne restaurant, the smell of cooking food and the soft sounds of dinner conversations hitting him as he made his way inside. A Lander waiter came up to him, clad in the usual garb most waiters wear as he stood behind a pedestal. A book lied open on top of the pedestal, the waiter greeting the customer with a casual smile. "Do you have a reservation with us today, sir?" The question caught him off guard. Did the rules undergo a drastic change after the events of the crazy King's Game him and his fellow adventurers took part of in this restaurant? "Um...no. I do not have a reservation." A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face. He hoped that this didn't turn into an awkward sequence of events. It was the awkward moments in life that haunted the Guardian the most. "Ah, that's perfectly fine. Will a table for two be alright?" Oxford squinted as he heard this question. Not sure if he was taking his pet weasel into consideration, or if he was just making him realize how lonely he was. "Yes, that'll be fine. Oh, is it alright if my friend here accompanies me?" He pointed to his weasel as he said this, Omo giving the waiter his cutest "pretty please" look, mustering up as much adorableness he could gather. "It's fine, as long as it doesn't bother the other patrons." With what? Its cuteness? "And may I get your name for your order?" "It's 'Oxford'." The waiter's face shot up to look at the Guardian, taking out a piece of paper and running his finger down a list as he glanced at Oxford, looking at him but not really looking at him. I bet he's pulling up my info display... The waiter suddenly spoke up before he left his spot behind the pedestal. "Excuse me for just a moment." The Lander quickly walked towards the double doors leading to the kitchen, the doors making a clattering sound as he thought he heard excited voices talking on the other side. Oxford turned his head towards the entrance/exit, wondering if he had enough time to escape through the door unnoticed. That plan was quickly revised as a couple more adventurers came through the door, blocking the exit with their bodies/girth. If I have to, I can stall them with Omo as I make my way out of here... |
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