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Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. -Titus 2:3 (NIV)Melissa was sure she was being paranoid, and yet the look she got from the waiter as she and Natasha entered Eating For Two felt like one of the meanest looks she had ever gotten. It was like a “You don’t belong here,” type of look, which she supposed was technically true, but seemed weird in the context of two people entering an establishment called “Eating For Two.” They were seated without an issue, though, so the moment passed without too much discomfort, even if it remained on Melissa’s mind as the conversation turned elsewhere. “Have you been trying to get into this place for a while then?” Melissa asked. “They knew your name, and it didn’t seem like a Guardian thing. Did nobody else from your group want to come with?” Natasha shook her head and got to typing. “Hasn’t been open long. Tried to get in before just myself. It was the first place I thought of.” By the time she’d finished typing all that, the waiter was back and waiting expectantly for their drink orders. Melissa nodded a measure of understanding of Natasha’s situation up to this point and then nodded at the waiter. “Um,” she said, still thinking about the look she’d gotten and wanting to fit in. “Do you know what a Bloody Mary is?” The waiter just stared at her. Melissa wilted in her seat a little. “Like, tomato juice and I think vodka, but with a bunch of garnishes. I don’t know what all goes in -” “Yes. I am familiar with what you are describing, but we do not call it that here. And I would need to see some form of identification indicating-” Melissa quickly waved away the question with a frantic gesture. “No no, um, I wanted to order a Virgin Mary, actually. Like, without the vodka. And not bloody either, um, so I was wondering if that could be replaced with something else like a spicy ginger beer or something.” The fact that the waiter had to repeat her order back to her was a bad sign. Melissa was entirely inexperienced in the world of cocktails. Communion wine was her only real experience with alcohol, of course, so she wasn’t sure how “ginger beer with lemon juice, lime juice, pickle juice, horseradish, Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, pepper, and a celery stick” was going to taste, but the waiter said that they would have it right up and Melissa didn’t want to take it back at that point. Natasha, meanwhile, simply pointed at the drink menu, and a holographic image appeared on the table indicating her selection. “That’s nifty,” Melissa said as the waiter walked away. She tried it with a few other drinks, all of which looked much more appetizing than what she had just concocted. “I should probably order some water too, when the waiter comes back,” she said. “I just wanted- this seemed like the place to be fancy, and I know who the Virgin Mary is, obviously, so I kind of just defaulted to that. This keeps happening to me. I- One time, I somehow made a friend put honey in her coffee, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over myself for that.” Natasha seemed confused. Melissa worried that she might have gotten lost somewhere in that whole ramble, but Natasha simply typed out a single word: “Mary?” Did Natasha know that that single name could cause so much strife? Melissa nearly launched into another whole ramble simply on instinct, but she just managed to catch herself with the reminder that evangelizing a woman she had met only twice was not a thing that would get her to meet for a third time. Unless Natasha was genuinely curious, of course -- and why shouldn’t she help a wayward soul find her way to the light of Jesus? -- but that would require at least a bit more clarification, which seemed rude when Natasha had asked for clarification first. Melissa made some sort of involuntary gurgling sound, but she decided to split the difference. “So, um, ‘Bloody Mary’ was a person -- a queen, I think -- but the name is mostly used now as a children’s horror prank. The Virgin Mary, meanwhile, is a prominent figure in my religion as the mother of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.” She intentionally left out the parts there that Natasha probably would have found distasteful, unless Natasha was okay with fourteen-year-old pregnancies, which was not something Melissa wanted to get into. Natasha just smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I know of Jesus,” she typed. “Sofia says that when she’s surprised.” “Sofia” was not a name Melissa had heard before. She had met Salvo and she knew that she and Salvo shared a religion, and she knew Salvo and Natasha were in the same group, so it could have been Salvo’s real name or something, but the possibility of a third person excited Melissa. She just hoped Sofia was not one of the denominations that had irreconcilable differences with Catholicism. Not all of them had survived the dome, but there were still pockets. Instead of prying into all that, Melissa just said, “You should try and get more out of her, like a ‘Jesus, Joseph and Mary!’ and maybe an ‘And all the saints!’ for good measure if it’s a real surprise.” Natasha’s smile changed to one of bemusement. “Perhaps I will,” she typed, and just in time, as the waiter returned and asked for their order. Melissa looked down at the menu and realized just how much of it she hadn’t read yet. She put her finger on a random item and a massive bowl of noodles materialized in front of her. “Oh, that’s… I wouldn’t be able to eat all of that,” Melissa said. Maybe that was why she got such a look from the waiter as she’d entered the restaurant. She wasn’t such a serious eater after all. But until such a time happened that she was thrown out for such an injustice (or at least the injustice of the drink that was now sitting in front of her, with its thick sauce bubbles on top of the soda), Melissa did try to persevere. “Um, there’s no leftovers, so did you want to share something, Natasha? I get the feeling I’ll get stabbed if we try and get an extra serving bowl, but I can just eat out of yours or you eat out of mine or, um… I don’t have any dietary restrictions, so whatever looks good to you…”

[2638]

The Last Stardust

I tried looking this up like a dummy before realizing what you meant

Ryia had picked herself up, catching her breath as the others had moved in to attack Lucas next, gripping her sword tight. Looking over to Cym as the girl asked what she was made of, definitively Ryia answered. "Stone." Looking over to see that Pan was now nearest Lucas, the Earth Chosen didn't bother to chat any more and instead ran towards the werewolf, making her presence known to grab the Lycan's attention. However, Lucas seemed much more interested in what was perhaps the much easier prey that was right before him, instead lunging towards Pan. Quickly, Ryia stomped on the ground during her charge to create her wall to block Lucas's path, the werewolf outstretching a hand to stop himself short from crashing full into the wall. With his charge stomped and his attention now fully shifted to Ryia, he brought out his other hand as if to beat away her oncoming attack. Ryia knew that fully charging into him would spell her end, and that simply stopping short wouldn't be enough to feint him. As such, as she dug her feet into the ground to slow her charge the spirit of Earth appeared behind her, firing off a volley of rocks to distract the wolf man. The rocks themselves did to confer actual damage to him, but during the volley Ryia swung her blade into his hand, catching him off guard and making a large gash in it. Snarling, Lucas clenched his hand into a fist before going for a punch against Ryia. The Earth Chosen knew that there was no way to dodge in time and similarly that taking a direct hit from him would be out of the question. Even if she had to put more pressure and burden on her shield arm, it didn't much matter to her anymore. This was a fight where she was to give everything she had to win. No matter what pain she had to endure or how broken her body might've become, so long as she could take one more hit for everyone else that was all that mattered. Stepping to the side Ryia brought up her shield to defend against the punch, gritting her teeth and grunting in pain as every part of her arm screamed out once more. As Ryia stumbled back, the force of the punch knocking her off balance, she heard Cym call out for Pan. Looking over she saw the elven girl jump, being assisted by a gust of wind, before driving her blade between the Lycan's shoulder blades as part of her descent. Snarling as the attack went through the man thrashed about before Cym finally let go of her sword and was knocked off of him, the blade still sticking out of his back.

Still Making It Rain

W.I.P. ...And the Story Closes

it's only a train if it comes from the train region of germany otherwise it's just a sparkling bus anyway what's your favorite playing card in your standard 52-card deck (no jokers)

vegetables aren't real they were made up by big chef to force-feed kids brussels sprouts before brussels sprouts were cool look it up if someone says "hey that's a carrot you're not allowed to eat that" i'd just be like "um actually this is a root"

Hmmmmm I do like this name in general still but I suppose the one downside is the roblox guy who used this name and I always wonder if people think that's where I got it So I suppose maybe I would and it'd probably be my favorite animal because why not 139

...okay, color me interested...I'll be dropping into the Discord shortly

“Does being an aspiring professor mean you know a lot about caring for Pokemon? Is there any advice you could give me with Peat? I make sure to brush and oil his fur every night, and I help him pick his teeth and claws clean too." "Weeeell..." Not really... Now that he'd mentioned it, it was probably best to double-check Arthur. He'd just been recovered from a kidnapping, after all, and Bridget wouldn't forgive herself if she was so caught up in having him back that she overlooked some sort of injury on the Trapinch's part. Thus, as the team continued along Route 102, did Bridget pop open Arthur's poke ball and give the creature a good, thorough inspection. And, like the impudent toddler it could very well pass for when not playing, Arthur resisted her every step of the way. "What kinda stuff do you have to do for Artur?” "'E's real fussy about 'is care, actually," Bridet answered, as she tried to part-coax Arthur into opening his mouth, part-pry it open herself. "Won't let me do anyfin' for 'im, 'side from feedin' and playin' wiv 'im. C'mon Arfur, open up, I'm makin' sure you're not hurt!" After several defiant chirps and chitters, and no small amount of trying to wriggle out of Bridget's grip, the Trapinch finally relented, and opened his maw of a mouth for Bridget to investigate. As she confirmed there was nothing of concern inside his mouth, and continued checking the rest of his body for anything that could be a possible concern, she remarked "See what I mean? Best I can do is force 'im to take a bath when he's dirty, and that should be its own category of battle." As if to prove her point, the mere mention of the word "bath" elicited a growl of obvious protest from Arthur, and further attempts to escape Bridget's grasp. The Trapinch only settled down once it seemed to process Bridget was just talking about baths, and not saying it was time to take one. "Pokemon care isn't really somefin' I know much about though. And I 'aven't seen that species until gettin' to Korova, either. Sorry. Peat looks healfy 'n' happy though. I'm sure anyone who knows more about care stuff would say you're doin' a good job." The bog up ahead was, as bogs went, certainly a bog. Nate and Quinn went on ahead into the marshy wetness with varying degrees of effectiveness. Bridget followed suit, taking to the marsh with a sense of familiarity gained from some field research back in certain parts of Galar. Which isn't to say she was just at home in a marsh as on dry land, but between having put up with this sort of terrain before, and having the appropriate footwear for the job, it was safe to say Bridget was faring better than her peers right now. Of bigger concern to her was the statue in the middle of it all. People could be fickle creatures sometimes, but Bridget was always willing to trust a pokemon. And as she eyed the statue's surroundings, she couldn't help but notice almost all of them were avoiding the statue. Peat even refused to follow Nate right up to it, which was an immediate red flag to her. She wasn't an art history major, or a geologist, or anything else that could potentially pertain to identifying a statue, but if all the local wildlife was avoiding that thing, it couldn't be anything but bad news, as far as Bridget was concerned. As much as she wanted to get up close and inspect the statue for herself - really wanted to, more than usual - Bridget made a point to keep her distance, and to keep an eye on the other two in case some sort of timely intervention was needed. Plus, somebody had to make sure Arthur wouldn't get into trouble. Bridget looked down to Arthur... only to find that while she was keeping a watchful eye on Quinn & Nate, her pokemon had slipped away, and was now proudly trotting about in the bog. Gonna have to give him a bath later. Might as well make something of this! Not keeping her attention away from her teammates for too long at any point, Bridget followed her Trapinch companion through the water and mud, then pointed at the first pokemon to cross Arthur's path. A Solosis that was otherwise minding its own business. "Let's blow off some steam, Arfur! Give it a good Bite!" Arthur, for one, seemed all too happy to oblige, charging up to the stray Solosis as best it could, jaws wide open and ready to snap shut on its new quarry.