Description: Zach decides to head out for a late night snack. Hijinks ensue!
Nestled in a corner of Chinatown, Southtown is a relatively new Chinese restaurant. The restaurant itself seems to have seen its better days as it appears a little rundown from the outside. The inside isn't much better as there is a hastily patched up hole in the middle of the roof that is directly above a torn up section of floor. However, word-of-mouth around Southtown says that this restaurant has stellar, authentic Chinese food despite the restaurant's rough appearance.
Currently, it appears to be a slow night at the restaurant with only a few regulars seated at various tables. A young girl wearing a red cheongsam and a frilly pink apron seems to be splitting her time inbetween wiping down tables and checking in on the nearby patrons. It seems that there isn't much in the way of employees on duty either.
Zach Glenn is here not on business, but for a late meal. He had been pointed this way by one of his subordinates, being told that the Chinese food here is some of the best. The Pao Pao cafe and Genhaten were also on the list, but Zach's experience in such things advised him to visit this place first.
The young man, fairly unremarkable in appearance save for the military style haircut and bearing, pokes his head in the door before actually entering and looking around. The restaurant is not in top-shape, but obviously cared for. He looks curiously at everything, not yet noticing the young girl just yet.
When Zach opens the door to the restaurant proper, a trio of alleycats bolt inside and head around and inbetween Jam's legs on the way to the kitchen. The young chef whirls around shakes a fist angrily at the cats just as their tails disappear into the kitchen. "Hey! No, bad kitties!" Ugh. This was the like the forth time today this has happened! Jam is so despondent over this turn of events that she almost doesn't notice Zach at first.
But when she does, Jam beams a smile his way and jogs on over. Those cats will have to be dealt with some other day! There was....a customer! The woman steps together and bows before offering a great big grin towards Zach. "Welcome to my restaurant! Please, have a seat!" Jam greets before gesturing towards a nearby table, attempting to clandestinely shoo a mouse away that had wandered onto that exact tabletop.
The young girl in red laugh nervously before attempting to block the escape of the mouse with her body. "A handsome, young guy like you has to be hungry! Be sure to get some meatbuns to go too!" The mouse may have jumped from the table to the nearby floor, but it has not escaped the attention of the trio of neer'do-well cats. All three of them stick their heads in from the kitchen before darting back through the restaurant after the lone mouse.
Zach smiles genuinely, looking around for a moment more as he is led to a table. He grins a bit more at the compliment as he sits down. "Sounds good," he says agreeably. He's studiously /not/ paying attention to the wildlife in the establishment. He is, in a lot of ways, more interested in Jam's apparent joy with the current situation.
It's always nice to be around someone who is passionate about what they do, and enjoys it.
Jam shoots an icy glare at the rampaging cats before turning her brown eyes back onto Zach. She flutters her eyes demurely before attempting to laugh off what just happened with all the local wildlife. "Alright! One order of meatbuns coming right up!" The young girl calls out as she trots off to the kitchen to whip up the order.
She emerges a few minutes later with her hands full of different entrees. Jam starts dropping the various plates off to the proper tables before making her way over to where Zach is at. But then....cat-astrophe strikes!
One, two, and then three alleycats make a break for it with the fattest one colliding into Jam's foot. She nearly loses her balance and Zach's meatbuns go wobbling in the air as the young martial artist uses her foot to kick the fat cat up into the air and grab it by the scruff of the neck.
Pleased as punch at her own acrobatic display, Jam twirls in place to embellish the arrival of Zach's meatbuns. But the young Chinese girl twirls a little too far and ends up placing the cat onto Zach's table instead of the meatbuns. Jam looks horrified, but the cat just seems rather nonplussed at this turn of events. It merely looks at Zach and utters a half-hearted 'mrow'.
Villa Vampir is a strange place located near London, England, and home to some of the most clinically perfect shrubbery sculptures, lawncare, and 'engineered clutter' that the English countryside has ever seen. It is considered among the casually effete to be a masterpiece of yardwork and home-building, but a small, passionate group of individuals feel that the Villa Vampir is too 'emotionally bankrupt' for their tastes. Furthermore, the amount of horrifying individuals and frankly unfortunate events involving the house are rapidly escalating it into a place of legend - it's a veritable Addams mansion of the modern-day. One can only imagine its interior.
We aren't at the Villa Vampir right now, that'd be tipping the hand, bringing this party too far, too fast. We are, instead, at the Manse Macabre, which Slayer considers an positively charming play on words. It is not.
"Sharon! I can only be so deeply apologetic about the pork buns! I will find a way to get them for you, I promise -- now, I beg of you, for all the years we have enjoyed each other's company... please let me into the house! We can talk!"
The beautiful shrubberies in front of the Manse Macabre have been vaporized - some earlier event, certainly. This is important, because the house's *lawn* suddenly erupts in flames, which leads the man at its front door to carefully, elegantly sashay his way down the cement sidewalk slicing through a newfound hellscape. Once he has left the Manse grounds, he frowns, deeply, and turns into his cape - literally.
The cape drifts away, fabric on the wind.
A cape lands in front of Jam Kuradoberi's restaurant! It's Slayer in about the time it takes somebody to blink, and the result of *that* unfortunate spectacle is that whatever customers were considering entering the restaurant are considering, very strongly, that they should leave right now. They do. Slayer isn't concerned about it - with a rich laugh and a careless fastening of his cufflinks, the man uses both hands to push open the double doors of Jam's restaurant.
What turns out to be the single door of Jam's restaurant explodes off of its hinges, slicing through the air like some sort of horrible discus, to *EXPLODE* against the large backlit menu just over the cashier/serving area. It is an incredible mess. Slayer probably should not have used both hands.
"Ah! Miss Cloudberry! K- no, wait --" He rubs at his chin, completely unconcerned for what's happening in the restaurant right now. "Kura--- ah, how do they do their romanizations again... K-- Kraudoberi?" He feels this is close enough - that face splits in a positively predatory smile, and Slayer spreads both arms wide.
"I've come to your humble establishment for some pork buns! I hear they are *absolutely* tremendous, and have decided I simply must sample them for myself!"
Zach looks, slightly dumbfounded, at the cat. And then the door explodes. He looks from the cat, to the wreckage of the door, to the stranger who entered... and feels... /utterly different/ against the psion's mental senses. Emerald eyes narrow as he slowly stands up.
He edges between the young woman and the strange man at the door, his eyes narrowed. The movement is one of reflex; Slayer is definitely not human. Or more than human. Whatever he is, he could be trouble. He'll protect the young woman. It's what Zach Glenn does.
The sickening sound of her beloved front door flying through the air and then smashing into her posted menu that was -across the room- causes Jam to nearly faint. Zach's tray of meatbuns wobble most dangerously in the air before she has to use both hands to steady the tray. Mister Fat Cat looks at Zach for one second longer before evactuating the area posthaste. The cat has apparently decided to go chase mice at one of the other restaurants in Chinatown, where there were usually a lot less flying doors and explosions. This leaves Jam with ample room to safely plop down the tray of meatbuns onto Zach's table. Jam breathes a sigh of relief. That was atleast -one- disaster avoided.
She then tigthens her hands into balled fists and promptly pivots towards her now wide open front entrance. Whomever did that was going to pay! Brown eyes search for the culprit behind the attack, but she doesn't have to look very hard as Slayer jovially steps forward and addresses her. "You again?!" Jam shouts as she leaps up onto a nearby table which precariously shifts underneath Jam's boots. "First my roof!" The patched hole in the ceiling is pointed to. "And then my floor!" The same treatement is given here to the torn up section of tile beneath the patched up hole in the ceiling. "But now both my front door and my....my...." The cheongsam wearing girl looks over her shoulder at the absolute mess of where the door landed. "....my entire everything! You are so going to pay for everything, you big....-jerk-!"
Still balancing herself ontop the table, Jam reaches up for the collar of her long cheongsam and grabs ahold of her dress there. She tosses it off with one fell swoop to reveal her much shorter, fighting cheongsam and skirt underneath. Taking one fist up into the air, the young martial artist slams it into the now open palm of her other hand. She then flails her arms outwards before swooping up onto one leg and into her fighting stance. It looks like Jam's now ready to rock!
Slayer's eyes widen at the sudden appearance of meat buns -- he needs those meat buns! That predatory smile opens up into a fang-toothed sort of glee, and Slayer spreads both arms to walk forward in, well, really, just -imperiously-. He walks directly past Mister Fat Cat, who writes the whole situation off as a reflection of Mister Fat Cat's feline reflexes and innate balance, which is really just a sham Mister Fat Cat is unconsciously confabulating to enable his unhealthy lifestyle. Anyway, Slayer's just Dandying right over to the table, where he sweeps into a low, low, *low* bow - oh, so low! - and gives Zach Glenn an appraising eye, a monocled wink.
"Young sir - if you would be so kind, might I take these meatbuns for a modest reward? I have... mmm. A hundred dollars I could give you, in exchange for your kindne- ah, hold on." Jam is saying something to Slayer! The man stands, ignoring Glenn for the moment, and looks aaalll the way over at Jam, whose willingness to adopt a... a *FIGHTING STANCE* is causing Slayer significant distress.
Why, he even removes his monocle to wipe it against his lapel. Just what *is* that young woman doing?
"Just what *is* that young woman doing? She- ah. Oh. Absolutely not -- dear girl, why would we want to fight? This is a fine dining establishment, is it not? Focus less on such trivial things, the roof, your sign, and more on the *food*! Did you know that food is unique in its art? To think, passion that one can *ingest*, a feel and a vibration that the chef passes on to her patrons! Ah, but to take in good food, food of the heart!"
Slayer replaces his monocle, and offers Jam another small smile, a twinkle in those warm eyes. "Ah, but it's enough to make even a dead mouth salivate. Come now. Be like those bald men on the mountaintop. Forego the transient consternation, and focus instead on what's important - your dreams." He looks back to Glenn.
"My offer still stands, young sir."
Zach's eyes narrow at the smile on Slayer's face, at the man's demeanor. His right foot slides back slightly as the man approaches; not /quite/ a fighting stance but one of increased readiness. He takes a deep breath.
"I just wanted dinner," he mutters.
Jam makes her declaration, gets ready to express her fury. He thinks quickly.
"Ten thousand," he says, "And we share the meatbuns."
The logic's not all that bad. Both men get meatbuns, which /must/ be good if this guy is willing to trash the joint just to get them. Zach gets some money, which he then offers to the young woman to put toward fixing up the shop. And, hopefully, a fight gets avoided. Something tells the psion that this is a fight he really does not want.
Welcome to Kuradoberi's! (slogan: YOU CAN'T BEAT OUR MEAT) Say what you want about Jam Kuradoberi, but she has got the Knack when it comes to cooking, and it shows in the varied clientele that have come here today to sample her culinary delights. The delicious scents of meat buns, fried rice, dumplings, and sizzling meat dishes fill the air, along with the clinking of glasses and the low buzz of conversation as people naturally combine being pleasanly social with being full of complex carbohydrates.
Then someone decides to 'push' a 'pull' door and everything goes to hell.
It probably doesn't help that into this current situation, even more strageness happens. Just to the left of the cash register, slightly after Slayer makes his grand entrance, the air seems to... distort? For lack of a better word, it's as if the surface of the air itself becomes like a ripple on the surface of a still pond that then spirals in on itself like a whirlpool. It then resolves, in a burst of wind and -- incongruously -- rose petals into the figure of a young girl in Gothic lolita dress, shorter than five feet for certain, carrying a dark black umbrella at her side. As the phenomenon disappears, it becomes obvious that this entrance occurred where someone was ALREADY STANDING IN LINE to pay her check and, thanks to the laws of physics, has now been forcefully displaced back into a nearby table, sending the customer, her purse, the customers at that table, and their skillet of Mongolian barbecue tumbling upside down.
Brushing her golden bangs from her eyes, Rachel Alucard looks up and pronounces, with intense gravitas, "I have arrived in the lower world to retrieve my... 'take-out' order."
Perhaps Mister Fat Cat was merely big-boned or all fluff. Irregardless of the truth, the feline trots out onto the street and Jam is left to deal with what the cat dragged in/narrowly had to avoid in order to not become a cat-pancake. All the raucous ruckus has caused the restaurant to mostly vacate of all birds, cats, and mice. The only ones to remain are some interested onlookers, one jerk vampire, a cute guy, and Jam herself.
Jam eyes Slayer most suspiciously when he walks forward and bows oh so low in front of her. She starts to reach behind her and backflips of the table and onto the ground. Afterall, the last thing the young restaurant owner needed was another broken table to add to her broken ceiling, broken floor, broken front door, broken menu display, and broken credit score. She listens to Slayer's response incredulously as he starts speaking nonsense to her! "Of course I know cooking is an art! And I'm the best at it!" The young chef then gestures back towards her kitchen with a palm-strike. "But this restaurant is where I practice my art! And I can't just let it get trashed! This restaurant is my life and I'll defend it as such!" She then whirlwinds her arms around again as she drops into another, different fighting stance.
But Zach's sudden counteroffer of 10,000 dollars and sharing the meatbuns causes Jam to straighten up, adjust the oolong tea can in her hair, and smile coyly at Zach. "If you get me that ten thousand, then I'd love to share some meatbuns with you," offers Jam in a complete misinterpretation of with -whom- Zach was going to share those meatbuns with. Everything has seemingly took a turn for the better!
And then Rachel happens.
A sudden gust of wind has Jam holding down the sides of her skirt just as some rose petals drifts past. Where the heck did the draft come from? She swears that she had already patched up the roof. But the table crash, the confused patrons yellings, and Rachel's declaration causes Jam to pivot on her heel towards the new arrival. "Take out order?! Who, what....why?" Jam ends up uttering as she slinks down onto the floor in defeat. And there goes another table and also a skillet of her best barbecue. Pretty soon, there wouldn't be much furnishings inside her restaurant at all. The young chef is seemingly having one very bad day.
"Yelp agrees with you!" chimes Slayer in response to Jam's assertion that her cooking is The Best. "It is the entire reason I'm here, mademoiselle! Still, I am confused - are your meat buns in fact ten thousand dollars?" Slayer looks behind him, towards Zach, whose piercing, sees-it-all gaze has the older man apparently not at all concerned. He fixes the youth with a smug smile.
"I certainly could *arrange* for you to receive ten thousand dollars, if that is at all reflective of the asking price of these meat buns, but you must understand..." Slayer settles into the seat across from Glenn, all spindly limbs and too-angled features. He smiles at the boy, teases fingers along his moustache.
"There is not a single person in the world - and I have checked - who tolerates being made a fool of. I sincerely hope you would not try to do the same to me. It would hardly be gentlemanly of you. I'd certainly hate to have to lend you any sort of educati-" Slayer's words, sinister as they may seem, are interrupted by a sudden crash! Food goes flying! A young woman has appeared!
Slayer's expression goes from shock to *FURY* and then right back to that same plaintive can't-be-fucked attitude he's had this whole time. Just who is this mysterious young woman?
"Just who is *this* mysterious young woman?" Slayer leans back in his seat, and looks across the booth, towards Zach. He removes his pipe from his mouth, waves it around uselessly, and gestures towards Rachel. "Have you seen anybody with this young girl's poise? Her prim, concise manner of speaking? It's positively humbling. Certainly, she is the type of girl with the precaution to place whatever a "Take Out Order" is." Slayer replaces his pipe - the legendary +4 Smoking Pipe, Bat-Wing! - in his mouth, and smiles towards Jam in an almost fatherly fashion.
"Now, if our uncanny hostess can handle the complexity of a Take Out Order! I imagine it's different from her usual fare!" He has no idea what he's talking about.
Zach blinks once or twice at Rachel's sudden appearance. That's... new to him, he thinks. People generally don't just appear out of nowhere. He watches, listens.
"...it's an order that is ready to be picked up," Zach answers quietly. "Same food, just immediately ready for the customer to take home with them." He takes another deep breath. "Look, sir," Zach says with complete politeness. "I was just planning to hand her the money anyway. Just pay for the damages, and I'm sure she'll be more than happy to make you some food."
So much, then, for a simple meal.
The diminutive Rachel Alucard observes her surroundings with the sort of detached curiosity of someone wandering through a museum exhibit, safely convinced that all of this is more or less for show because no person actually LIVES like this. She doesn't look particularly... troubled. Just sort of... bemused? Confused? A few other -sed adjectives, but not actively MEAN. This is sort of undercut by the fact that from SOMEWHERE in her vicinity, a surprisingly rich and deep male voice can be heard. "Rachel-sama, is it really necessary for us to personally appear in this hovel?"
"Nago," intones the young girl in a stern tone, "you would do well to curb your tongue." Perhaps she has some civility in her? "After all, it is the holidays, a time for the commoners to focus on good cheer and not their lamentable lot in life." Nope. Never mind.
Then, of course, people are talking to her and the littlest vampire turns toward Jam, Slayer, and Zach with one thin, perfect eyebrow arching upward in surprise. "Ara? You are ever the flatterer, my lord," Rachel says calmly, and yet SOMEHOW in that nearly monotone delivery she turned the words 'my lord' into a baseball bat, before continuing. "There's no need to forgo good manners simply because I'm walking amongst the underclass. I am, however, surprised to see you here without your usual company. Dining alone, I take it?" SHE KNOWS HOW DOES SHE _KNOW_ SOMEHOW SHE KNOWS
With a cough, Rachel clears her throat and looks toward Jam. "I have been told that in the lower world your establishment is _the_ place to go for 'take-out'. As I am briefly without the services of my valet, and in the spirit of the giving season, I had thought to procure some of this 'take-out' for myself. If you'll prepare it at once I will see you compensated justly."
Having said her peace, there's a moment where Rachel turns to look at Zach Glenn. For a moment, her scarlet eyes seem to narrow, but the moment is brief at best. By the time one might register it, Rachel is again looking at Jam with her typical calm sangfroid. Did it even happen...?
From her slumped position, Jam looks over her shoulder at Slayer. He really didn't understand at all did he? But maybe he was just playing dumb to get out of the bill! Jam's heard that excuse and seen that method been used against her many times before. Thankfully Zach seems to understand her situation completely. He was turning out to be a genuine hero! The young girl places two hands beside her on the floor and pushes herself back up onto her feet. Turning to the table where Zach, Slayer, and the meatbuns were near, Jam smiles happily at Zach before turning to Slayer with a nod. "Yeah! It's to pay for all the damages to the restaurant, not just the meatbuns!" But Jam will absolutely be charging Slayer thrice the normal price for the meatbuns alone.
Jam looks utterly bamboozled by Rachel, her demeanor, and her way of speaking. She was polite and insulting at the same time. How did she do that? The young martial artist is at a loss of words. Slayer was a lord? The spirited young girl eventually recovers and turns a heel to face the seated and now pipe-equipped Slayer. "That broken table is going on -your- tab." She says simply before nodding to herself.
The restaurant owner then heads over, politely bows, and smiles towards what might actually be a paying customer. "Some take-out coming right up!" And without further adieu, Jam jets off to the kitchen to whip up some take out. She gathers an assortment of different entrees she had already cooking and puts them all in the same take-out bag. She soon reappears in the main dining area with the take out in hand before offering it to Rachel. "One order of take-out And an extra meatbun on the house!" All Jam can do now is hope that Rachel actually accepts the offered food and pays her with money, any money that she desperately needs to start rebuilding her restaurant.
"Absolutely, I understand, but I'm afraid I've been talking about the damages with our hostess, and not with her clientele. It's unseemly, you know - the age of chivalry has been overtaken by one of trust in competence. Women *are* capable of tying their own shoes in the morning... believe me, I do understand your antiquated views. It took me some, ah..." Slayer puffs on his pipe, trying to think of exactly how many years ago Sharon sat him down and explained to him that she could turn him inside with one hand, while the other was otherwise occupied.
Probably a thousand years, or something else ridiculous. The important thing is that Slayer is about to open his mouth but RACHEL does instead, and it warrants the girl - this is important - a sideglance from Slayer. She's keen, this one. He does the gentlemanly thing and completely ignores the dig. Bigger fish to fry.
"So -- ah, alright. I seem to have sat at this table the master, but you've utterly confounded me, and I absolutely *MUST* apologize for my presumption! So there exists food that's simply ready to go, right away, without preamble or awkward pause?" Slayer's eyes widen. "Telephones are *really* taking off, aren't they? I suppose I should have considered this when I was browsing the Yelp... Let me ask, now--"
Slayer turns his attention to Rachel and Jam, who are EXCHANGING MEATBUNS, and Jam is MAKING SLAYER PAY FOR THE TABLE RACHEL BROKE!
The camel's back has snapped! In two! Camel blood is everywhere! Desertfaring travelers are crying! Somewhere a family's entire economy has crumbled because Jam Kuradoberi has spoken this horrific thing!
Slayer erupts out of his seat, imperiously, pipe bit between his teeth! Smoke BARRELS out of its bowl, furious, taking on a malevolent shade of red!
"I object, absolutely not, I had nothing to do with that table being destroyed! I would never do anything so lowbrow as teleport into a person waiting for their food! It is the height of poor manners!"
There is a flicker of... something across Zach's consciousness. He glances at Rachel for a moment. Maybe he imagined it. He glances back at Slayer. "I'm sor-" he's about to apologize to Slayer for lossing attention when things... get a little... crazy.
Zach edges away from Slayer, and away from Mysteriously Appearing Young(?) Lady. He's not sure which one of the two he ought to pay closer attention to. Rachel is not overtly dangerous, while Slayer definitely has some noise to his fury.
"...just wanted some /food," he mutters. "Clearly that was too much to ask."
Without missing a beat, Rachel watches as Slayer rises to his feet, then calmly closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side. "I had hoped to simply enter through the front door, as per the standards of the lower world," Rachel says with an off-handed air, "but when I arrived it seemed to be mysteriously missing. Being a gentleman, I'm sure you'll defend the honor of this..." There's a brief second where Rachel's eyes open and she looks around the room with a decidedly appraising gaze, before continuing, "...'shop' if you happen to encounter the person who was responsible."
On the other hand, Jam appears to be actually willing to do her job and provide food for customers, which pleases Rachel to no end. Following the battling chef across the floor, the vampire's gigantic wedge heels make a decisive click-click-click with her steps. "My thanks. It is rare to find a craftsman who, at this time when most commoners are with their loved ones, instead is hard at work, forgoing pleasurable company and relaxation in favor of pursuing monetary gain." She's really got a way with words, this one.
Reaching the counter, Rachel reaches within her coat and produces... well, it's a coin? It's a single coin. It is a faded single coin. It's a faded single GOLD coin of no discernible recent national origin. "Please accept this for your trouble." Upside: Rachel paid her. Downside: that is one gold "sultani," a coin last used in the Ottoman Empire in eastern Europe approximately 600 years ago. "You may keep the change."
Hopefully Jam has an eBay account or a friend at the Smithsonian.
Take-out bag still held aloft, Jam turns to look back at Slayer when he gets angry about having to pay for an additional table on top of all the things he already damaged. Darn it! This was Jam's chance to appease atleast one restaurant destroying supernatural being. And now he was going to muck that all up! But before she can react to any of that, there was business to be conducted. "Um, thanks" is all Jam can muster out before offering the gathered food. Pursuing monetary gain was something that Jam took very seriously as a chef and as a bounty hunter.
When she is offered the gold coin as payment, the brunette chef looks at the gold coin with a look of utter incomprehension on her face. Was it so much to ask for yen, or dollars, or anything that could actually be used to pay for repairs and/or her rent. "What am I supposed to do with that? It's two-thousand -yen- for take out, not one gold coin!" Well gold was worth a certain amount of yen per ounce, Jam was not the kind of person who knew about such things.
"Anything more that gets broken is still going on your tab! And your other bill is gaining interest until its paid in full! My restaurant, my rules!" Jam declares defiantly as she places her hands on her hips. It seems that the young chef has finally regained some of her confidence and fighting spirit. But then what Zach has to say has Jam sprinting on over to the table which did have Zach's meatbuns on it. "H-hey wait! I brought your order out!" She then turns those big brown eyes upon Zach. "So, um, you're going to pay atleast for your food...-in yen-...right?" asks the Head Chef meekly.
Zach takes up the meatbun, and takes a bite out of it. His eyes go wide with surprise. "Mmmph," he says around the mouthful of culinary delight. He swallows, wincing slightly at the question. It's not that he planned to dine and dash. He didn't. It's just that he had forgotten to get local currency when he pulled money from his bank account.
"Would American dollars work," he asks, a hopeful tone in his voice and a hopeful half-grin on his face. The eyes are hard to resist.
"Mm," comments Slayer, who is dangerously close to considering allowing the excruciatingly long wick of his temper to begin heating towards a temperature that might cause it to being burning. Just look at the way that smoke puffs out of his pipe - it's like a chimney! Wow. In fact, the ceiling of the restaurant is practically BLANKETED in smoke.
The nobleman thinks for a moment, spreads his arms, and shrugs in a helpless, amused sort of way -- his laugh is exactly what velvet must SOUND like, the gleam of those pearly white teeth perfect! "Ahah ha-- fine, fine, I seem to have lost today, but mark my words, Madam -" Slayer indicates Rachel, a smile on his lips, a sparkle in his eyes. "We *will* talk some day soon." He turns to Zach, dipping into a slightly less-low version of his bow from earlier, and then gestures towards the more distant Jam. "Apologies again! I will return when you are less, ah... indisposed! A woman's fury is never to be taken lightly! Simply send a bill to my address, and I promise you, I will take care of any insult my actions have delivered!" He walks out of the restaurant, casually inclining his head to incoming customers, hands in his pockets.
Ah, but it feels good, righting wrongs, fixing problems for these young, impatient creatures! Slayer will have to deal with the Rachel situation on his own time, but first and foremost - Sharon absolutely requires meat buns for some indescribable reason. He'll have to return tomorrow.
"Ta~" Slayer steps out of the door, smoke billowing merrily from his pipe, to accumulate with the rest of his expired smoke against the restaurant's low ceiling, where it almost but doesn't quite blot out the "NO SMOKING INDOORS" sign.
In seconds, a loud *BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP* drowns out literally everything else going on in the restaurant, and the fire sprinklers deploy from the ceiling.
There is a loud *WHMP* as Rachel calmly opens her umbrella and raises it over her head, giving the water raining from the sky a look of more... curious interest than annoyance. The umbrella, unfurled, is... unusual; at the top of the black dome are two cat ears. And two cat EYES. And a sad-looking cat mouth, because right NOW Nago is being rained on to protect his mistress. But if you look UNDER the umbrella there's not a single drop of water that is actually coming UNDER it either which is not actually how this works, meaning there's a good chance 1.) Rachel is cheating and 2.) the cat umbrella is getting rained on for nothing.
"He really can become so out of sorts in this situation," Rachel says idly. "I hope he isn't in the doghouse too much longer." What does THAT mean.
As for Jam, Rachel has already taken the steaming takeout bag, and the implication that she couldn't take it because she hasn't actually paid for it like a reasonable person does not appear to even cross her mind. "Ara... I would think the custom of nobility would be sufficient prestige in payment. You should show a little more gratitude for my largess, given the circumstances." The vampire calmly opens the bag and takes in a deep whiff of the scent of recently-cooked food, then crinkles it shut and says, in a pleasant voice that SOMEHOW still has a mocking edge, "Ah, the pleasant smells of the lower world. Perhaps I shall send Valkenhayn here regularly to procure more of this... 'take-out'. Come long, Nago."
And again, that mysteriously deep male voice says from Rachel's vicinity, "Yes, Rachel-sama." Did the mouth on the cat umbrella... move when that happened? Of course not. That's nonsense. How could it have?
And then the air distorts once again and Rachel and her creepy-ass umbrella are gone.
Jam looks at Zach and smiles at the effort he displays in trying to cheer her up. Trying out one of her meatbuns, seemingly enjoying it, and then trying to still find a reasonable way to pay for it all. If only all her customers were like this! "Yeah! 20 dollars!" exclaims Jam happily as she had no idea about the actual exchange rate between yen and dollars. But you can't go wrong with just subtracting some zeroes, right? Despite her failings in currency exchange, she is giving Zach the bestest smile she can muster at the moment.
And yet it precisely when Jam is trying to have a happy little moment here that Slayer decides to make his escape. "Wait! I don't know...." He's already out -where her door should be- and gone. "....where you live." Jam slumps down now in a seat at Zach's table. How was she ever going to get him to pay for any of this? "This is like the worst day ever."
And then the fire sprinklers go off.
The now drenched Jam looks up when Rachel offers her two...cents on Slayer's situation. Wait, it sort of sounds like Rachel knows Slayer or atleast more about him than she knows. The brunette blinks and soon becomes very distracted when she realizes that Rachel had an umbrella on her and there was apparently someone else here too that she was talking to. Jam is busy thinking these idle thoughts when Rachel makes her exit before Jam has the chance to ask her about Slayer's address.
Realizing her missed opporunity and noticing the complete disarray of her restaurant, Jam puts her arms out on the table in front of her and just drops her head down. Thankfully, the sprinklers don't stay on forever and eventually they do shut off. But even with her head in her arms, a muffled -achoo- can be heard courtesy of the young martial artist.
Zach blinks twice, rapidly, at the talking cat-brella. It does not, however, stop him from eating his meatbun. It's good food, and Zach's enjoyed meals in worse... weather, one supposes it could be called. He finishes the whole tray of them largely in silence. He glances over at Jam for a moment, considering for a moment.
Quietly, he walks away from the table, and finds a mop. He goes about cleaning up the place without comment; if Jam wants to talk or ask questions she can. But helping someone in need does not always require a fight, or a clever tongue.
Sometimes it is just a hand willing to work.
With so much happening in a short amount of time, Jam takes a moment just to sit right there and regain her composure. She has moments like this where she despairs, but one of Jam's strengths is that she never, ever actually gives up. The restaurant owner stands up now and goes to collect where she threw her now soaked long cheongsam and apron before returning to where Zach was mopping up.
Despite her wretched appearance due to getting soaked by the fire sprinkler, Jam still smiles at Zach. "I'll go make a take-out bag just for you. You're going to work up quit an appetite!" The young girl now heads off for the kitchen with a little bit more of a skip to her step Following Zach's example, it was time to get to work!
Log created on 21:56:52 12/28/2014 by Zach Glenn, and last modified on 02:33:19 12/29/2014.