"There was no insult intended...Sparx," Tre spoke with respect, not demeaning, simply unsure of this creature. "I did not intend to imply you were simple or unaware, only that I do not understand complex devices as well as some would.
"More to your very direct question, we believe there is peace. Our faith teaches that all creatures begin the same, that each has a spirit which is sacred. When the time for that shell has ended, the spirit is placed in judgement and what knowledge it has acquired is tested. A question is asked, and if answered, the spirit may sit beside The Lady in peace." She looked slightly uneasy, being so analytical was not easy, there was so much more to the belief and faith. The Order was not a simple rule, there were entire buildings full of their beliefs written.
"If the answer is not given, then the spirit returns to this world to learn. Those called prophets, geniuses and that have created peace among nations or fed the starving masses are near to their peace. Those who wage war for gain, who defile our world for gold, they are far from their reward.
"Perhaps other Sisters see this differently, or could explain in other ways, but this is our belief. Knowledge is all, wisdom and peace are our way."
She was still curious about this being, another tenet being that Sisters do not judge others. "Pardon me for asking a delicate question, and you may refuse with no offense. Are you alive?"
((OOC: Tre asks a question that defines a part of their religion. That which lives is sacred, even to the plants and fish they eat.))
Candice carried out the meal, being slow as usual.
"Sorry about that, all the kitchen's fault." She brought the platter over. "Hey, Beth said that there were two of you. Is your friend coming back or...?" She strung the last word out, hoping that whoever had ordered was still interested.
"Oh, and do you need a refill?" She motioned to the empty glass.
Falcon Kitiara cocked her head to one side, watching the metal person, unable to keep her eyes on its "eyes", looking in turn at the joints, the shoulders, the neck. Her eyes went back to its "eyes" only when both him and the Sister had stopped talking.
"But you are an intelligent being capable of thought and feeling. Isn't it self evident?"
She gestured toward the android.
"You just came here, asking questions about the soul and the afterlife, and answering our questions in turn. You also did say that you sometimes feel disturbed. To me, this is proof of an intelligent being capable of both thought and feeling."
She smiled.
"About the afterlife, well, I guess that people can believe lots of different things about it, but no one can really know anything. Every religion will talk about the afterlife, everyone will tell you a different version of what is there after death. This, I think, is caused mostly by fear... people are terribly afraid of dying."
She could still remember her parents' words about an afterlife and religions: she had resumed those words avoiding the blunt part. Her parents had greatly despised religions and every other thing without a scientific basis.
"Animals, on the other hand, do not."
This was a thing she had learned first-person, though.
"Animals don't fear death, thus they don't need an afterlife. They accept it when their moment arrives, have no need for prayers, for priests, for threats of a hell or eternal torment in flames or what else." she shook her head with a small sigh. One of the first events that happened to her when she had just arrived in america, had been being approached by an inquisitive-looking old man, asking her if she had been "saved". She had listened the man for a bit, then simply walked away when he had tried to scare her into believing with threats of hell and torture.
"They live as fully as animals can, and when they die they have no regrets, nor do they care if they are about to disappear forever or if they will reincarnate in another living creature; they just accept their fate."
She looked the android deep in its visor.
"Of course you might say that it is so just because animals are less intelligent than humans, and can't understand what death is... but I don't think so. Animals do understand what death is (you can see it in the behaviour of a very ill animal), they just don't make a fuss about it. In fact, animals fight fiercely to protect their cubs, their health and their freedom, but don't fight at all when death comes. Acceptation."
She smiled again.
"For me, it is the same thing. I think that if I live a full life, as I really want to live it, without harming any innocent, and respecting other people, in the end I will be at peace with myself, no matter if I will simply cease to exist, or if I will be judged by a god or a goddess. I will have no regrets."
[OOC: Falcon's views about religion may be harsh, but no offense is meant toward anyone at all, really. After all she has been raised by atheist parents and grew up alone... no sunday school or churches for her 
This is how I imagine her personality to have evolved, given her past.]
"Then let's go, don't want to be a reminder that Gal let me out early." She put her jacket on, it was still cool in the nights here in Paragon. She checked to see that her keys were in her purse, and her wallet.
"I saw you showing Gertrude the marks on your arms, were you asking her about them? Her ex-husband has some, too. Big, ugly yellow things. Gal told me about them, something about him being in trouble or something, and I know Lady Gemini has it in for him." She wasn't really paying attention to Manion's face, for whatever reaction might be there.
"I know a place that might still be open, on the way. They make great malts." Beth waved to Narshawn on the way out.
For a second, Manion's smile left his face, and a chill went down his spine. He hadn't seen the tatoos Beth mentioned, so he couldn't be sure, but a bad feeling still crept into his gut.
The fact that Gertrude hadn't reacted negatively to him made him feel a little better. On the other hand his tattos were unfinished, only the first stage of a multi stage process. He had left before he could be branded with the more intricate and colorful designs most people associated with Tsoo tatoos. If Gertrude knew, she hid it well.
"No, I wasn't asking her about them. I know more about them than I care to. It... came up in conversation and I was explaining them to her. I didn't know her ex had some too. You're probably wondering about them, I'll explain on the way if you want."
He smiled again at the mention of malts. "Sounds good, I haven't had one of those in a while."
He grabbed his jacket, and followed her out of the bar.
(Snap)
"No thanks," I replied with a pleasant smile, "I'm trying to cut back on my liquor. My companion is having a chat with some of the patrons. I'll deliver his meal to him. Thank you for your hospitality."
I kept my manner calm and polite, grateful that I had finally received my meal. I did not want to disturb Sparx's conversation, so I grabbed his plate and decided to take it to him.
Getting nearer to Sparx I began to pick up snippets of his conversation with two women. They seemed to be talking about their views on life and death.
Being an athiest myself, I could easily relate to the sword-wielding woman's view of death. Still...
"It's hard to be sure, though," I piped in, "In the world we live in, you begin seeing things that make you question your very view of reality. Lord knows how many times I've met someone claiming to be a god or some outer-dimensional entity. Oh, um, I've brought your meal, Sparx. Aren't you going to introduce me?"
Sparx was silent for a moment, one of those awkward silences that signifies something embarassing.
"Ha," I laughed, "Figures, you would forget to ask. I'm Paravespula, Sparx's co-worker. Since he's forgotten to ask, may I have your names?"
Powersets I'd like to see:
Water or Wind-related powers (not just Storm Summoning)
More Minion-types
Demolitions Blast set (and maybe a Specialty Explosives Buff/Debuff) in tribute to the greatest explosives villain ever, Evil Midnight Bomber
"Lady Tre, Sister of the Order, Guard of the Nine, Daughter of Lady Almira and Mistress of the Storm." Lady Tre gave her full title and history.
"Can you be certain they were not gods? One who holds life or death in their palm, even one who has no magick or strength, can end another's life, or preserve it. Who you answer to, can you be certain they answer to no one? Even the faithless believe in something." She made a slight bow, her opinion said.
"My name, both earned and given, is Falcon Kitiara... a pleasure to meet you, Paravespula."
The red-haired warrior bowed her head slightly, then said with a smile:
"I am not sure of the nonexistance of a god or gods. And I am not sure that such beings exist either. It's true, there are lots of people around claiming to be gods, but what is a god after all?
Is a god someone able to fly, or to regenerate his/her wounds very fast, or to fight for hours at end without feeling tired at all? Normal people would consider these things supernatural and, thus, expression of the will of a god, and lots of these so-called gods would point to these skills as a demonstration of their divine origin. Well, tough luck, since I can do those things too, using meditation and training. This doesn't make me a goddess."
Her smile was amused, apparently by the idea of being called a goddess.
"For centuries, humanity has called "gods" or "God's will" things like thunderbolts, volcano eruptions, floodings, forest fires. Now we know that such things are caused by Nature and her normal adjustments, or from her reaction to our actions. I think that if we should meet, on another dimension, a race of all-powerful, omniscient beings, we shouldn't call them gods, no matter their power... We should call them friends, offer them our friendship instead of worship. "God" is a word that has been used to justify bloodshed, slavery and war so many times in the past... it brings with it a ...bad sensation."
"This is not to say that there aren't gods at all or that supernatural doesn't exist. They very well could. Only..." she toyed with her empty glass of cider "...well, I'm ready to accept both possibilities. If there is a goddess there, I won't fear her judgement, since I am living as I want, without regrets, and harming no one, helping people when I can. If there will be nothing... well, no problems for me either, will be like a peaceful, endless sleep. Of course I hope that the banished pantheon won't get a hold of my body! Have you seen those husks in Dark Astoria?" her smile became playful.
She felt it was late: the place would've closed soon. She decided that she would've left the place as soon as the Sisters did.
((OOC: OK, Gal's has closed for that evening, make your way to the doors as you like. Hey, a girl needs her sleep, too. If anyone has been frightened away by particular conversations, please don't be put off. I try to make every character that visits my focus, but play off each other!
Thang has indicated he will be indisposed for a little bit, so Isis should not think we are ignoring her. Hand of Ma'at, I relish your return, D Ceet and Basilisk, there is plenty more liquor for your thirst. Gladius, nice characters! If I did not mention you, it's not because I forgot, I'm just an insensitive clod. Sorry 
Gal's is open again, It's Friday in RP, and Martin has extra starch in his boxers.))
((OOC: Friday in RP? Did I miss my Thursday date? 
And yeah, where did everyone go?))
She paused just outside the door, second (third...fourth...) thoughts welling up again, making her hesitate. There was risk here, and not just risk of rejection, of disappointment. The terrified looks from the citizens, the fear and resentment in their eyes, that was bad enough. The fleeing children, desperately seeking the shelter of their parents' arms, that was even more painful, was harder still to swallow. But here in this place, with this clientele, there could be a whole different kind of pain.
She unfastened the buttons of her trenchcoat, shrugged out of it. She wore it on the way here not to hide what she was, for she remained proud of that. But it had been raining lightly, and her usual outfit, her costume, well...it just didn't make a very good raincoat. As she folded the coat over her arm, she heard the rapid, hissing intake of breath from a passer-by, noted the unmistakable "don't see me" body language as the man's pace quickened and he hurried away down the sidewalk. She died inside. Again.
She took a deep breath and opened the door, pausing only slightly at the threshold before entering. Very few patrons here...still too early, even for a Friday. Those that had arrived reacted in differnet ways, but all reacted. Some seemed only a bit less taken aback than the man outside. Others were clearly readying themselves for action, although no overt moves were made. The reactions of Paragon City heroes to the thoroughly unexpected presence of a Carnival Ring Mistress, in other words...
One woman (staff? owner?) seemed notably more concerned than fearful. Her gaze was level, neutral.
"Hello. My name is Lili DuValle...sometimes called Festival." Her voice is powerful and melodious, pitched to be heard by all nearby, but not brash...a trained performer's voice. "I am a Bright Ring Mistress of the Carnival of Light, just in case you were wondering." She deliberately accentuates "bright" and "light," hoping almost desperately that the emphasis conveys the contrast she wants to make. She smiles gently, never more glad of the facial mobility her mask affords, in contrast to those worn by this world's dread Carnival of Shadows. "I'd love to have a peep at your wine list."
"There. In for a penny, Festi, in for a pound. Let's see how the act plays out..."
_______________________
((OOC - Those with lvl40+ characters probably know what the Carnival of Light is. For those who don't, that Carnival exists in the Praetorian dimension, where unlike the evil Carnival of Shadows, they are heroes, freedom fighters against the regime of Tyrant, beloved by a repressed people. Festival is a refugee from that dimension. If you play on Triumph, please feel free to contact me about the Carnival of Light SG. Oh, and yes, that's Festival in my avatar!)
"And in this moment, I will not run.
It is my place to stand.
We few shall carry hope
Within our bloodied hands."
Martin had noticed that Beth was pre-occupied, had seemed not quite herself since last night. She went about her usual duties, and that was all he truly cared about. Personal matters were personal, unless they affected work.
The large clock above the main door, an intricate sundial that somehow cast it's shadow on the correct time, regardless of the lack of sunlight, had just arrived on opening time. The phone rang as he keyed open the antique oak and walnut doors, he pocketed the keys and lifted the receiver.
"Yes, Mr. Broady," he intoned solemnly after the usual greeting. "I was unaware that there was still an office in Paragon City...ah, not the Railroad proper then...yes, sir...I am still registered...yes, certainly, I will speak with Miss Gal...my seal is here...I shall await your arrival, good evening, sir."
Very little surprised Martin, being a servant in a powered household, very curious things occurred with startling regularity. Needing his Notary Seal on some documents would be one of the more normal activities he had done in some time. Perhaps half an hour, he thought, asking Beth to watch the door until he could speak to Gal.
He had returned just in time to greet the colorful woman at the podium. No eyebrow raised, his mask of polite boredom was impenetrable, worn like armor against strangeness. The immaculate suit, tailored to his thin frame the same as his face, extremely proper and unobtrusive.
"Good evening Miss," glancing at the seating chart, "welcome to Ladies by the Lake. I am Martin, the Maitre 'd. We have formal dining in the main restaurant or more casual service in the Bar, but with the full menu.
"Yes, I hope you will find our wine list to your liking, many of our selections do not appear. I would venture that you have an idea the selection you would like, but if I may be so forward, the seared Ahi is excellent this evening, served with new potatoes and goes quite well with our Billecart Salmon, " pronounced 'sahl-moh', "or perhaps something else more rich?"
He handed over a specials list printed on heavy paper, the lightest blue impregnated with rich green letters:
Specials
SEVRUGA CAVIAR & TUNA TARTARE
asian pear, crispy potato, crème frâiche
C NV SEGURAS VIUDAS ARIA BRUT, PENEDES, SPAIN
SEARED HUDSON VALLEY FOIE GRAS
cinnamon french toast, caramelized green apples
C 1999 PRINZ VON HESSEN WINKELER HASENSPRUNG RIESLING, GERMANY
BUTTER POACHED MAINE LOBSTER
parsnip potato puree, roasted porcini mushroom, sea beans
C 2000 FISHER COACH INSIGNIA CHARDONNAY, SONOMA, CALIFORNIA
GRILLED PRIME AGED SIRLOIN STEAK
garlic yukon fries, roasted long beans, spiced port sauce
C 2000 HOGUE GENESISCABERNET SAUVIGNON, COLUMBIA VALLEY, WA
BUCHERON CHEVRE
quince jelly, toasted almonds
C 2000 KUNDE ESTATE ZINFANDEL, SONOMA, CALIFORNIA
FLOURLESS CHOCOLATE CAKE
kahlua sabayon, malted chocolate ice cream, caramel sauce, pecan brittle
C NV FONSECA VINTAGE CHARACTER
WINE LIST:
Sparkling Wines
Pierre Sparr Cremant de'Alsace N.V.
Drappier "Grand Sendrée" 1989
White Wines by Glass
Au Bon Climat Chardonnay 1997 Santa Barbara
Adelsheim Pinot Gris 1997 Willamette Valley
White Wine
Ponzi Chardonnay "Clonal Selection" 1997
Sokol-Blosser Evolution #9 White N.V.
Western White Wine
Woodward Canyon Chardonnay Columbia Valley,
1997
L'Ecole 41 Semillon "Barrel Fermented" 1997
French White Wine
Dagueneu Pouilly Fume "En Chailloux" 1997 Loire
Brocard chablis 1er Cru "Beauregard" 1996 Burgundy
Red Wines
Benziger Merlot 1997 Sonoma
Cameron Pinot Noir N.V. Willamette Valley
Ridge Zinfandel "Coast Range" Field Blend
1997 Sonoma
Red Wines
Adelsheim Pinot Noir "Ridgecrest" 1996
Foris Pinot Noir "Maple Ranch" 1995
Western Red Wine
DeLille "Harrison Hill" 1995
Canoe Ridge Merlot 1996
California Red Wine
Altamura Cabernet Sauvignon 1995 Napa
Hess Collection Cabernet Sauvignon 1995 Napa
French Red Wine
Vincent Giradin Santenay "Gravieres" 1er Cru
1996 Burgundy
St. Jean Bebian Cotes de Languedoc 1995 Provence
Italian Red Wine
Paneretta Chianti Classico "Riserva" 1995 Tuscany
"We have many more in the cellar, some single bottle examples in the city. Would you care to sit?" Martin said with a hopeful tone.
*****
Gal watched the woman from her show kitchen, pictures in her mind flashing by. Sibling had an entire collection of photos, villain groups and how to identify them, that Gal would look through on occassion. She had never seen a Carnie in person, but she did know that none of them dressed in these colors. The mask was all wrong as well, she had seen heroes dressed like Skulls and Hellions before, her best friend was a Troll for goodness sake.
Interest, that was certainly an emotion she felt.
"Vegas, please find out that woman's name." Her hearing was not great, and she saw Martin in discussion with her, but could not hear over the distance and noise. The other woman nodded, casually walking around the room toward Martin.
((OOC: Welcome Dollhouse! Zo, ve meet again? (In a French accent with a sneer and followed by a ho-ho-ho!) Martin would warm to anyone that asks for a wine, it seems so rare, and cultured. No action in Gal's Place, though I understand your character's worry, so she is safe. Vegas is security and other things, but as well mannered as they come, and Gypsy will envy your outfit!))
((OOC: So much dialogue was going on and I didn't have the opportunity to post regularly so I stepped away from writing, but I've been reading as often as possible which is once every 2 or 3 days. Good conversations and stories ya'll.))
((OOC: Sure, and Gertrude's two kids will starve without your tips...heartless cad...))
"A table would be wonderful," Festival replied with a small but heartfelt smile. "And suspect I shall I shall take your advice: the seared Ahi sounds perfect. "With the L'Ecole 41 Semillon, please. I love their reds - I have a fairly complete vertical of their Cabernet back to '95 - but I've never tried anything off the white side of the aisle."
She followed the elegant Maitre'd to a small round table in a subtly-lit corner of the room. She responded with a smile and a nod to his unspoken (but perfectly eloquent) question about the table's suitability. Martin presented a richly-appointed menu to Festival after graciously assisting her into her chair. "Our full menu, should you change your mind..." Then he was gone, disappearing unnoticed in the timeless manner of the truly skilled restauranteur.
"This is a very, very well-thought-out menu," she thought as she perused the offerings. "And if the aromas from the kitchen are any indication, a well-executed one, too. Lili, you simply must try not to gloat too much to the rest of the troupe about this meal...not when they're spending the evening staking out that Council lab!"
She settled in contentedly and waited for her server...
--------------------------
(OOC - What a fun start! Superhero RP'ing and wine babble...what's not to like!! Admission: I play CoH with a glass of wine close at hand more often than not...)
"And in this moment, I will not run.
It is my place to stand.
We few shall carry hope
Within our bloodied hands."
"Beth," Martin spoke quietly to her near the podium, "the young lady that I just seated, she has a fine nose for wine. I will be in the cellar for a moment, please watch the front and have Gypsy do the seating." With that quick instruction he was off, surprising Beth with his enthusiasm.
A few minutes later, Martin himself returned, with the bottle. Walking to the table, he placed the warm bread basket and small oil decanter to one side. On one coaster he placed the proper glass and presented the bottle, before opening, to Festival.
The label was a stylized schoolhouse, done similar to a child's crayon drawing, showing a house, hot-air balloon and tractor. Some dust was apparent on the bottle, but the neck and top were clean and still moist from Martin's attention.
"Miss, I present the L'Ecole. I must applaud your taste and knowledge, it is twice the wine that some wines twice the price pretend to be. The label is of the schoolhouse where the wine is produced, but I would venture you already knew of this." His tone left no doubt he considered her taste of the finest caliber. "One note of caution, please be mindful of the table, it is alive and the owner has a special attachment to them." He smiled stiffly, the only way he knew how to.
"Would Miss care for the bottle?" Martin deftly opened his Chateau-Laguiole wine knife, the silver bolsters and bone handle shining dully in the soft lighting, ready to open the bottle.
((OOC: You think Gal would have just any wine cellar? We had it installed just for you!))
"I've always wanted to vist," Festival replied warmly. "Somehow the idea of housing a truly wonderful winery in an old schoolhouse is so very appealing. And there are so many other wineries in Washington that are doing amazing things. Andrew Will, Quilceda Creek, K Cellars...but as usual, I ramble."
Taking the bottle from Martin, she quickly examines the cork-to-bottleneck seal, takes note of the perfect temperature, and returns the bottle, nodding her approval.
"Proper storage, I am in no way surprised to see...I think I can count on my first experience with a L'Ecole white to be representative!"
As Martin went deftly about the business of uncorking the bottle, Lili took a moment to examine the living table she had been so politely cautioned about. "Lovely...and living. How marvelous! I can't wait for Madame Zostrina to see this. 'Trina has such empathy with living things, all the more so with plantlife. And she has never lacked for appetite..."
More content than she's been since arriving in this strange new Paragon City, Lili delicately plucked slice of warm, crusty bread from the basket and drizzled a bit of oil onto it, eagerly anticipating the semillion.
"And in this moment, I will not run.
It is my place to stand.
We few shall carry hope
Within our bloodied hands."
"Sadly no," I said, "My associate and I are only patrollers, and Dark Astoria is not included on the patrol run."
"We used to all sorts of investigative work," Sparx continued, downing his goulash (sp?) at the same time, "back in California, but with only the three of us in Paragon, we don't have the numbers to branch off."
"Oh," I suddenly realized, "I doubt you've heard of Gladius Corp. We work in what we call the 'human enhancements industry'. Sometimes they employ heroes like us. They have the headquarters established back in California, but it was originally founded in Rome, Italy. Sparx was built in Italy. I used to work there as a biochemist before my own experimentation turned me into Parvespula."
I decided to eat before continuing, trying to savor the taste of it. Things have been different since my accident. My senses were sometimes enhanced, sometimes addled.
"I myself really doubt the existence of a god. Even one so-called god I've met isn't sure he is one. Personally, I see life in terms of the Fundamental Problem. The problem that, deep down, is the source of everything that you do. Once you know the Fundamental, then you can improve your life."
As I was getting near the bottom of the bowl, I realized that it was nearing time to go.
"Oh no," I spouted, "We got to go now. Our higher in command expects us back at the apartment, and we're pushing it a bit. We should get ready to pay."
I got up slowly and went back to the table we were assigned, Sparx following slowly.
"We just need to wait for the bill," Sparx muttered.
Powersets I'd like to see:
Water or Wind-related powers (not just Storm Summoning)
More Minion-types
Demolitions Blast set (and maybe a Specialty Explosives Buff/Debuff) in tribute to the greatest explosives villain ever, Evil Midnight Bomber
"Indeed, a pleasure to have your patronage, madame." He uncorked the bottle, leaving the cork against her plate. He poured out a glass, taking care of the bottle.
"Have you decided? I would not presume to think you would take my recommendation, though Miss Gal is known for her fish."
He patiently waited for her response.
With a light push, Dark Basilisk pushed open the main door to the building. He wasn't entirely sure why he had returned- he rarely ate out anymore, and tried not to return too often to the same place, as it made him too easy to follow. But, he found himself once more in the main reception area of Gal's Place, and could think of no other reason to be there but that he was welcome. Dark Basilisk readjusted the black hood covering his scaled head, pushed up his golden mirrored sunglasses, and entered the bar again. Making his way to the counter, he nodded at the woman tending bar to get her attention.
"Give me what you got to drink. Don't care what, so long as it's cold."
Taking a stool at the bar, he sat hunched over, in a posture suggesting he was an experienced drinker.
My story arcs: #2370- Noah Reborn, #18672- The Clockwork War, #31490- Easy Money
Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." What does that make an MMO?
Gal made her way past several diners, making a small comment to one or the other, asking about the service and food. She introduced herself among the newcomers, and shook hands with some regulars. Working her way around the room, she finally arrived at Festival's table.
"Good evening Miss," she started, standing a little back from her personal space. "I'm Gal, the owner and cook. Martin was sayin' how impressed he was with your taste in wines, and ah' wanted to ask after the selection. We try to please here."
She took a quick look at the woman, definitely not Carnie, she thought. Her tiara would have warned her if this was a villain, and it stayed perfectly cold under her afro and hair cover. Not a group she had ever dealt with though, and her curiosity was raised.
"May ah' ask your name?" She was smiling with genuine warmth.
******
"Good evening again," Narshawn recognized the man.
"I believe that Chilled Vodka is traditional," she held a cup that began to frost over. "Stolichnaya is acceptable?" Her smile hid her tiny teeth, she had found some put off by them.
"I would be more than happy to take your recommendation," Festival replied as she hed the semillion up to the light, quietly delighting in the delicate pale golden color. "The seared Ahi, please."
When Martin departed to the kitchen, she inhaled deeply of the wine, filling her nose with its complicated bouquet: pears, citrus peel...and the unmistakable tang of botrytis, the fungal "blight" that can add so much to a white wine grape. Ah, bliss...and of a sort she realized she needed to indulge in more. She was, after all, a French country girl at heart, most comfortable with rich, bold red wines. Variety! That's the ticket...
"May ah' ask your name?" She was smiling with genuine warmth.
Festival glanced up sharply, returning the warm smile instinctively. It was that kind of smile. The kind that went deeper than lips and teeth. The woman had been speaking to her...yes. Owner. Cook. Gal. Ah, yes...the wine.
"It's delicious...and if the smells coming out of your kitchen are any indication, it's only going to get better. My name is Lili duValle. I am rather new to Paragon City, and your place comes well recommended." Festival's smile becomes impish. "I think I can begin to see why."
"And in this moment, I will not run.
It is my place to stand.
We few shall carry hope
Within our bloodied hands."
"Careful, now" Gal scowled, "flattery will only get you a free meal." Her scowl quickly shifted into a white-toothed smile. "Let me welcome you to Paragon, anyone's welcome here.
"I don' know that much about wines, I appreciate 'em, but Martin is the Sommelier. He makes all the decisions. Now food, that I know," the sound of rattling cast iron turned her head. "And good as Gypsy is, I better get back up to the fire. The Ahi was your'n? Hope you like it, managed to get some space on a plane out of Oahu, never frozen.
"Tell Martin if you need anythin', Gypsy will be around some too." The tall black tanker moved with purpose back to her grills. Festival might have seen Gal give Gypsy a hard look over a large container of Paprika the smaller scrapper held over the pans, and the sheepish look Gal got in return when she placed the spice back in the overhead rack.
((OOC: Gypsy will be by in a few minutes with your dinner, since the Ahi should only sear a for a split second to bring out the taste. They are big steaks, sorry, but she has to use it or it will spoil 
Don't ruin your figure, she does warm to-go plates too.))
Lili watched the effusive owner/chef depart, her warm smile deepening. How different her welcome here had turned out to be from the gloomy worst-case she'd feared. More than once she'd been in testy standoffs with Paragon heroes since her refugee troupe's arrival in this dimension. A couple incidents had even resulted in violence, although in both cases she had managed to diffuse things before anyone was seriously hurt (Mask of Vitiation can be a wonderful thing!).
But here she felt warmly welcomed and perfectly at ease. The difference? She suspected she had just finished speaking to the reason. This place seemed to have its owner's personality stanped all over it.
The gaily-dressed RingMistress sipped her wine contentedly, eagerly awaiting her meal.
"And in this moment, I will not run.
It is my place to stand.
We few shall carry hope
Within our bloodied hands."
Basilisk nodded and accepted the drink. He took a sip, then finding the drink to be to his tastes, downed the remainder in one hard pull. Placing the empty glass on the counter, he spent a moment examining Narshawn from behind the golden glasses.
"'S the damnedest thing, isn't it. I could sit here and drink everything behind that bar without so much as a hiccup, but two cigs 'll put me flat on my back." He shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. "What a world we live in, eh? Folks tell us to go stop crime, but if you're not careful, some knob like Chris Jenkins will come along and try to sue you for all you're worth- And that's only if you're lucky. If you're not, then some punk-[censored] gang-banger will sneak up on you while you're fighting one of the big bads, put a bullet in your brain. And the best part in all of this is that even if you do arrest them and get them behind bars, 5 minutes later, they're out shaking down some lady for her purse. And the heroes take the blame for not doing enough. Where's the justice?"
My story arcs: #2370- Noah Reborn, #18672- The Clockwork War, #31490- Easy Money
Sartre once said, "Hell is other people." What does that make an MMO?
I must have been staring at my drink for fifteen minutes before downing it. I sat back and tried to wait patiently for my meal.
Patience was not one of my greatest virtues, and we had to leave soon. Fulmino would turn us into lightning rods if we waited too long, and it was almost closing time.
Still, I was never good at breaking convention, and I did not want to seem like a ditcher.
"Urgh," I said to myself, "I've seen snails move faster."
At least Legion was doing something for himself, I was alone doing nothing.
"The dinner better be worth it," I muttered, "I could have saved someone's life. Like I'm ever that lucky.
Powersets I'd like to see:
Water or Wind-related powers (not just Storm Summoning)
More Minion-types
Demolitions Blast set (and maybe a Specialty Explosives Buff/Debuff) in tribute to the greatest explosives villain ever, Evil Midnight Bomber