Marshall had never been one for conversation. Perhaps then, that was why the silence that hung in between them as they walked didn’t bother her. “...Reminder. No closed doors; only open ones. Sabrina… Doesn’t strike me as the type to close the door behind her, after all,” she explained, briefly, as she continued; keeping her steps measured, and steady. If she were to get into too much of a hurry, she knew she would falter, that she would exhaust herself before it was time for such exertion-- And even if being one of the exalted had changed her stamina, she knew better than to rush into things. Besides, after they climbed the stairs in the other direction, and found the body of a dead Drengr with what looked to be wounds that only Sabrina could inflict upon it… Well, at that point, it was just as simple as doing what she had said, and following the open doors. She gave a slight nod to the body as they passed it though, gesturing towards it for Gene to inspect, if he was so curious, and kept walking; her pace a bit brisker. With knowledge of what direction their companions had gone in, it was easier to find them; and thus, she could spend more effort in doing so. Still, she instinctively found herself holding her hand out, and summoning her rifle as she walked; the brief flash of light bringing it to hand as she grabbed it by the barrel, and continued down the path, following anything she could, from open doorways to any sufficiently disturbed dust. So it was, she had a reasonably easy time coming across them, as well as the… Remains, of the resistance they had clearly encountered; similar, but not exactly the same as that which she had encountered. Bringing her rifle to rest on her shoulder, she used her free left hand to tip her hat slightly, as she nodded towards the two of them. “Glad we found you when we did,” Marshall gave a quick nod, as she closed her eyes, speaking in her habitual monotone as she began to give her ‘report’. “In the other direction, we found… A lot. Of course, we ran into our own resistance, three Drengr in total, but had no trouble dispatching them with a bit of careful strategy,” she nodded towards her weapon, and then Gene. “As for what we found after, when we realized you had not gone that way: a large, massive compound, crawling with Drengr patrols. That is to say…” she trailed off, letting out a louder sigh than she had meant to. “We’re walking into the belly of the beast, and will need to be careful not to alert too many of them at once,” she explained, nodding idly.

Try to avoid being overtly meta (think more anime), and customs will be allowed

I will bless her with abundant provisions; her poor I will satisfy with food. -Psalm 132:15 (NIV) Melissa was incredulous. “Three squads for the whole city? What, did you just split up by city level then?” That wasn’t a question she really expected an answer to, and put a hand up to keep Natasha from spending the time typing out an answer. What had struck Melissa was the loneliness of it -- and this was coming from somebody like her! Mauvache had, at the very least, provided them with teammates in the first place, but the amount of people or things that could possibly ever relate to your own experience with Prana was dwindlingly small. And this was coming from somebody like Melissa! She was somebody who came with two companions bolted into her brain and a side of fries if you asked nicely enough. She was glad to have run into Salvo when she did, and Natasha mere hours later. And Dora, and Rei (who she still needed to text back). Back home, everybody had the base classification of “duelist.” There were subcategories, of course, but everyone had a basic understanding of the mechanics of Duel Monsters. Some were more enthusiastic than others, but you could expect a reasonable answer to a card-related issue if you approached somebody at random. Melissa had heard tales of dogs and cats even being able to provide if you issued them a challenge. Even though the idea always seemed fanciful, she believed it. And hadn’t she been given that Rain Bozu card seemingly at a stranger’s whim, kickstarting this entire thing? She resolved to be extra patient with other Guardians and their struggles with things Melissa still found commonplace. Natasha was still typing away at her phone, as slow as ever, but companionship was a finite resource, and as stingy as Melissa was with it, it would be a shame to lose it, especially if it was her fault. There was hustle and bustle outside of Melissa and Natasha’s booth, but Melissa did not pay it much mind. She thought it was strange how a single person was allowed to eat even after signage and staff attitude had implied easier, but she did not try to trouble the waitstaff for an explanation. It seemed like there was a prior history, and Melissa had bigger things to worry about, especially when her food had finally arrived. She was hungrier than she had expected, but the gumbo was a formidable opponent. Melissa’s strategy for the meal was sound, a practiced set of movements that had served her well at every unwanted youth group outing with too much food. The trick was, she found, to be constantly moving. You did not want to move quickly. That would make you sick, and Melissa had enough experience with nausea that it was a feeling she wanted to avoid. The opposite was also a trap, though. Eating at a glacial pace would only get the digestive system to send signals to the brain to stop well before the meal was completed. But to always be taking small bites, chewing them thoroughly, and accepting them into herself, would take her at least a respectable way into this crock pot of a plate that got dumped on her. This might have been easier with a conversation, but Melissa did not want to interrupt Natasha and her own food. It also might have helped if her drink order hadn’t been so horrid. Whose idea was this, anyway? Melissa had some primal fear that it could have been the Virgin Mary herself, and even though the idea was too far-fetched to adapt into her theology, it still popped back into her head every time she took a look at her glass. Melissa hoped she had proven herself as a serious eater by the time she had conceded defeat, but she also never wanted to eat at Eating For Two again in her life, so the partial accomplishment (if that even meant anything, and Melissa was pretty sure it did not) rang hollow. That did not mean she hadn’t enjoyed herself. The food was delicious despite its portion sizes, and Natasha had been a good sport. Melissa offered to pay for at least half of the bill. It was late when she made it home; it was practically almost time for another meal, but Melissa still wasn’t hungry. Another hope: she hoped she would be hungry in time for breakfast the next day. For now, though, there was not much else to do but check on Bartleby and proceed through the rest of the night. Or so she thought. “Oh, hello, Fen,” Melissa said, rounding the corner through a doorway on the ground floor. “And, um, Kelsey, right? I’m not interrupting anything, am I? How was your day?”