Rare Indeed

[Whatevr89532]

The Eevee-girl watches Amber pick up Swift with some mild bemusement, used to seeing trainers carry smaller pokemon around but not exactly sure what to make of this situation.

Then she nods at the Gengar. "Sure. I think we decided my name is Whyte..." After getting about as close as seems appropriate to Amber, she waits.

[AmbushCat]

*Swift throws her arms around Amber's neck in a hug, adding to the amusement factor. Amber rolls her eyes, annoyed, but gets her act together.*

Amber: Deflagrate muri tempi et intervallia!

*A fireball surrounds them, whisking them away from the office building...*

----

*...and depositing them at the front door of a nice little restaurant named "Irma's Diner" clear across Muffinville, chronologically fifteen seconds earlier.*

((OOC: Will be offline the rest of the day to get some stuff taken care of. Ciao mein until Tuesday.))

[Whatevr89532]

After they arrive, Whyte sniffs the air a couple of times, catching a little bit of the cooking fumes. "Hm..I actually haven't had human food in..uh..couple of decades, maybe? But at least it smells good."

[AmbushCat]

Amber: Glad... you agree. Oof. *straightens as Swift lets go and climbs down* Let's get our grub on. *leads Whyte and the others into the diner* Irma! Hey, Irma! Are you there?

*The interior is akin to many a greasy hamburger joint, but a little bit larger and much cleaner. There are about 14 seats at the counter, of which 4 are currently occupied, and five booths (each with at least one person). Several cooks can be glimpsed in the kitchen, going about their business

*Irma herself, a 20-something year-old woman with grayish-white skin, expressive red eyes and a pair of ram's horns on her head, is cleaning off the counter and doesn't seem to have noticed their arrival yet.*

[Whatevr89532]

Not actually knowing who Irma is, Whyte just waves at the nearest person who looks like restaurant staff.

[AmbushCat]

*This would be Irma herself. She smiles and waves back, returning to her cleaning... and then the facts click together.*

Irma: *voice sounding more like a middle-aged Southerner than a younger one* Oh! Pardon me. I didn't see you there.

[Whatevr89532]

"No worries!" Whyte calls back, grinning brightly. "Um, should we seat ourselves or wait on a table?"

[AmbushCat]

Irma: Go ahead and seat yourselves. *gestures at the large-print menu hanging on the wall behind her* What'll it be, kids?

Amber: ... "Kids"? Irma...!

Irma: It's just easier to refer to y'all as a collective. Pay no mind.

Amber: ...Well, in that case, give me a hot dog with everything on it, sans the sauerkraut. And a glass of fruit punch.

Swift: *looks up at the menu for a few moments* I'll try today's special. The same drink for me, please.

Irma: The chicken-carrot taco... *scribbles the orders down* Very nice. *turns to Whyte* How about you, young lady?

[Whatevr89532]

Whyte is giving the menu a good thousand-yard stare, apparently paralyzed by all the choices. "..Uh?" The question snaps her out of it. "I..uh..can you recommend something?"

[AmbushCat]

Irma: Well, there's always today's special, the chicken-carrot taco. In your case, I'd suggest chocolate milk to drink.

[Whatevr89532]

"I guess I'll try that then. Sure. I wanna say the taco sounds unusual, but my frame of reference is really old and several dimensions away..."

[AmbushCat]

Irma: *jokingly* Your frame of reference? A can of varnish would probably go good with that.

Amber: *exasparated* Irma, please...

Irma: *laughing; goes to retrieve the drinks* Getting to work, girls. Getting to work. *briefly eyes Shiver (Amber's Mismagius) and Vacuum* What about you two? You hungry?

Shiver: *via telepathy* ---Pass. We already ate.---

Irma: *hands Whyte a glass of chocolate milk* Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.