Log; OPEN

[stopthat_destro]

Who: THE COMMANDER!!! And his minion. And probably Verona? OPEN. Multiple threads, etc etc you know the drill
Where: Vesuvius, Verona's place of business
When: UHH RIGHT NOW.
Warnings: LOL DOUBT IT.

Comments

I was like, OH SHIT, SHE DOESN'T HAVE A NAME! ...and then this creative gem just, y'know, CAME TO ME

[wichita_kansas]

Scampering behind the Commander in her fancy new digs, Minion was content to hold one of his makeshift coattails and follow him through the city. Though he forgot every single time to warn her that there were stairs, potholes, rocks, in her way, they eventually found Vesuvius. It was fine by Minion because her falls generally meant that he was going down with her (And, well, sometimes she purposely wrapped herself around his torso if she had enough warning so they could suffer the same fate).

She could smell Misti, and she smelled nice. Hopefully as nice as the food was, otherwise Misti would have to come home with them for dinner. When the Commander addressed Mitsi, Minion confirmed the fact. "YEP! Reservation. For FREEMEAL."

[stopthat_destro]

When the woman-- who was far too healthy looking for his liking (suspiciously healthy, in fact)-- began to guide them to a table, he turned to his faithful minion, a grin behind his bandanna. "Victory!" he hissed, his voice low so that the norms couldn't hear it and panic over their impending doom. Once they reached the table, he spread his arms grandly. "Ah, a private table, away from the masses... Gooood."

Ever the gentleman, he took a seat and let Minion seat herself. He was progressive like that. Then, looking up at the woman, he arched his brow, confused and agitated, and glanced between her and his minion several times, waiting for an answer to his unspoken question. When none came, he decided to verbalize it, his voice full of paranoid suspicion: "Who's Msssss. Velour?" He'd never spoken to a Ms. Velour in his life!

[wichita_kansas]

Minion had a bit of a time trying to find her chair, first crawling under the table as an initial reaction to dinner time. This was due in part to the fact that she usually ate on the ground. When she realized that there were chairs, she mumbled and bumped her head on the bottom of the table before groping around, feeling the four legs of the table, and eventually finding the empty seat meant for her.

"Just checking for weapons under the table, Commander!" Lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "...you never know, with these fat little norms."

Minion picked up her silverware and began biting it to see if it was any sort of precious metal before pocketing it in her fancy schmancy smelly dog coat. Unable to answer the Commander's question, she could only show her support of his demands by demanding in turn. "YES. We demand to know this Velour creature!"