You’ll shed feathers, but they haven’t clipped your wings yet.
Untold horrors and newfound love in #MVRP
One more performer in the spotlight by #CreepinCrinoid
@leadashtray [*/one/]
[smh]
-he’ll use the instant of the impact to swing at her diaphragm.
He may not be interested in /drinking/ her blood, but he is trying to spill it a little. It’s been a rough few years.
@leadashtray Having recently come back to Crown and had reason to defend himself against /onw/ cachaemite, he has a least a bit of a gameplan in mind.
Foster jerks backwards the moment she tries to connect the kick, and attempt to stomp the leg aiming to disorient him.
If he connects,-
Foster tries and fails to look away from the intricate customer service ritual before him.
"I think I'll be fine, sir." He stifled a laugh before sticking a pair of fingers in his shirt pocket and producing several bills from it. It's probably yen.
"Thanks a bunch ~ ☆ "
- "Here ya go~!
As requested, the broth made is particularly spicy to suit your sensibilities! By soaking any food inside, it will take in that spicy flavor! Mix and match, no rush!
And let me know if I can help with anything else!"
A spin, twirl of the skirt, then bow.
As Shaw left to place the order, another wingtip scratched the side of Foster’s head as he propped his chin up in his hands.
“…that’s not… *the* Shaw, is it? Guy’s almost a legend, and THIS is how I…whateverrrrr.”
A graceful bow of respect for the compliment, "Thank you, sir! We'll serve you to the best of our abilities..."
Shaw couldn't help but wonder about the strange, no, simply unusual, costumers coming in as he moved to put the order up.
There was something a bit familiar, is all.
"It certainly can be spicy! I'll tell our cook that you wish for aggressive temperament to the ingredients!"
Shaw wrote down the orders' list on his notepad, taking a dozen seconds due to the number of items.
"It'll be a few minutes, so please make yourself comfortable~."
"Can I get both and two orders of sesame balls?
Oh, and...is the hot spot, hot pot, whatever...is it spicy? I need it as hot as the cook'll let me, if you don't mind, pleeeease."
His wings give an excited little flutter.
"I like hot pot the most! It's the most filling, buck for your bucket cause it's a ton going into the cooking pot. Chow mein - fried noodles - are better as an one person filling meal, but we have many flavors of spring rolls if you'd prefer a smaller lunch!"
Shaw likes food.
"...so it.../isn't/ a maid cafe. Awright, my bad..."
He cleared his throat. Foster appeared to be winking, but in fact, was trying to focus a "good" eye on the waiter in question.
"What's /your/ favorite?"
"I promise that our food is very real, sir! Does this aesthetic displease you? I can get someone else to take your order..."
He sounded just as superficially respectful, clearly an act.
"....uhhh."
The tip of Foster's wing reached up to scratch his cheek. This was...not what he was expecting.
"I. I'm sorry. Is this a maid cafe? Thought this was liiiiiiike....real food...."
He doesn’t respond, having hunched up with his arms crossed way up high on his chest. He’s gone back to thinking really hard about the proposal — and how much he really wanted to risk even bruising Basil a little.
“ Hehe— you’re sweet, but I actually think it’s fun and fulfilling to spar and wrestle a bit, especially when I can be something powerful with a proper playfighting instinct~! “
“ Sooo, what do you say? “
He mulled it over momentarily, but, after awhile of shifting on this heel and that, his face fell.
“…would you waaaaant to wrestle? I didn’t think that was your speed.”
Basil starts to preen Foster’s hair with his beak.
< … Mmmmmaybe? If I spend a while in a particular animal form, I start to get more ‘into’ it, so only if I hang out up here for a while! >