Randy’s Diner: SR Freeplay Zone

[Muppet Man]

Open 24 hours a day, this relic of Seattle-that-was still exists and is still serving (only two cups!) of crappy coffee (unless you’re friends with Linda, she’ll keep the soycaf flowing). Food is bad, but real, hot and not too expensive.

This place is neutral ground. You can find a group of hungry Lonestar badges crammed in a booth next to some scum from Burien, but almost always mechanics from Boeing hang out here.

The decor is a vintage, gaudy pink and yellow vinyl upholstery, ripped and patched with duct tape. The dark wood laminate is rubbed to the core, at least where it’s not peeled and broken.

But its signature are the hundreds of model aircraft and dozens of museum type artifacts from local aviation history. Sure they are dusty and some are broken, but when you walk in, you know this place is special.

In classic diner style, Randy’s has one large room with a long L-shaped counter facing the service area and kitchen. The dining area is roughly L-shape as well. It is filled with booths, from 2-tops to horseshoe shaped, semi private eight person pods. There are a couple larger tables more or less private in the back. Along the street facing storefront, six or so four-person booths provide the primo seating. The short leg of the L has one long bench, odd shaped tables with two chairs on the aisle. Old people seem to favor these seats.

It’s slightly musty, slightly smells of decades of grease and oil. It’s always too hot, at least, for some people. Some people find it cold all the time. It literally changes in each different booth or even seat. It’s noisy, but it’s not hvac, the air barely moves. It’s mostly the staff slinging bus tubs or crashing service carts around. There is generally a steady stream of shouts between the servers and the cooks. Every surface has just a hint of a greasy feeling.

The staff are universally jaded and grouchy. Graveyard shift is either Linda, an ageless woman who has clearly lived a hard life. Or there’s Kiddo, a fast talking gender fluid, for lack of a better term, nerd. They always seem on the verge of quitting.

The owners and day staff have less personality and far less charm to temper their acerbic attitude.

I love this place. You should visit.

[SARGE]

A very large bear of a man ducks his way into the doorway of Randy's Diner. He stands and and shakes the evening percipitation from his leather jacket. From around the man's neck hangs a necklace of either teeth or claws surrounding a silver medallion with an onyx bear in the middle. His combat fatigue pants and boots are a bit offsetting to his upper body appearance.

Standing to his full height he ducks once more to avoid the exit sign. Stepping forward he straightens and takes in a deep breath, then begins gagging.

"These city folk have no concept of how to cook," he thinks to himself.

He continues to try and catch his breath and breathe as he surveys those in the diner at the late hour.

"Why had he come from the SSC again," he thought to himself.

[Alyfox]

(OOC: Extended 'introduction' post)

The shrouded figure pauses as they spot a tall, presumably male figure enter the diner a dozen paces ahead of them; ducking their head they tug a hood down further against the rain before starting forward again. A wet gust causes the bottom half of what may be a cloak to flutter wildly, revealing an extra appendage trailing behind.

The figure stops at the entrance, seeming to sigh and draw a deep breath before opening the door and stepping in, then drawing up short as she nearly runs into the male who had entered moments earlier. Smoothly, the Shrouded One sidesteps past and stops to survey the restaurant as well, reaching up to tug the hood back.

An elven woman, and looking on the younger side even for an elf. Pale skin, pure white hair, deep amethyst eyes and a serious expression stand out - as do the tall, black furred animal ears peeking out from the thick mane and the somewhat damp, black-furred tail twitching beneath the cloak; the former showing highlights of grey on the inside, while the latter is tipped with lapis blue.

Casting an impassive sideways glance to the (presumably) taller human, she offers a polite nod before moving further into the diner, reaching back to give the rain-cloak a brief shake, scattering the rivulets of water trickling down the moisture-resistant garment. The elf pauses again, eyeing the seats at the counter, then moves to claim one of the stools close to the washrooms.

Settling at the counter, and displaying fairly impressive posture in the process, the elf absently tucks a loose lock of that white hair behind a pierced elven ear, then looks to the employe(es) behind the counter, a hint of a smile marring her serious expression. From beneath the cloak a brown leather courier bag appears, which is settled on the floor at her feet - the strap is curled around her left foot to keep it secure.

(OOC:Additional Information)

Currently has her commlink set to Private, with her identity being labled as 'Elisabeth Gibbs', the elf looks to be seventeen or eighteen years old. Roughly five-foot-five (65 inches, 165.1cm), with a slender, athletic build but for being surprisingly busty for her height, apparent age and metatype.

Clothing: Calf-length black rain-cloak, well-worn (or pre-distressed?) dark blue jeans, smokey grey light sweater, black fingerless driving gloves and worn dirty white sneakers of a popular brand. The courier bag is brown, as noted, with steel-grey metal fittings - it would be difficult to say without closer examination if it is leather or pleather.

Accessories: The right ear sports three helix stud piercings in a vaguely triangular array, while below and a little behind the left ear is a visible, non-decorated datajack. Around her neck, a slim choker, dark purple to match her eyes. Hair is pulled back into a pony-tail, held in place with a plain strap of some sort.

Other details: In addition to the regular elven ears, she possesses two fox-like ears closer to the top of her head, black with grey furred, and the previously described tail; like the ears, it is fox-like, about a meter long and quite thickly furred (though, damp currently thanks to the rain).

[Muppet Man]

Late
Weather: Heavy Downpour, 5.6C, Wind SE 22kph, feels like 0C Air Quality: Moderate (Yellow), Precipitation pH 3

Linda watched the big bear shaman enter. She stood behind the counter and gave him a why me sort of exasperated look. Slowly, as of it took a great deal of effort, she stepped out and greeted Sarge.

You want big person table? Seat yourself. But you’d prolly fit at the counter.

A bell rang from the kitchen and she shuffled off, moving quickly but like she’s frustrated to be moving at all.

A few minutes later, the haggard server noticed the young elf. Or remembered she was there. She held a pot of soycaf is her hand almost like a shield. Leaning on the counter with her other Linda settled. Then she bluntly said, What?

[Alyfox]

A few minutes later, the haggard server noticed the young elf. Or remembered she was there. She held a pot of soycaf is her hand almost like a shield. Leaning on the counter with her other Linda settled. Then she bluntly said, "What?"

The elf straightens up a little further, somehow, then offers a polite nod. "<Konbanwa, obaasan>. If it is not too much trouble, I would like to order a drink, please? Tea if you have it, or hot chocolate?" she goes on to ask, her politeness genuine. Once Linda has departed to do whatever, the elf shifts on her seat to glance around the diner curiously, taking in everything and everyone as best she can, with an expectant look touching her guarded expression.

[Corrigon]

Shrike entered the bar, reaching up to brush off the water on his short hair before shaking it off his hand in the entrance. Looking around, he surveyed the place, noting the ever present Star in the joint.

He knew the rep of the place, so hadn't come dressed up in his fancy getup, nor carrying anything heavier than a pistol tucked away in a concealable holster. Wearing full body armour was a no no and the Star would be giving him the skinny all night, if not getting in his biz.

Still, he was hungry, this place had too much firepower for anybody to be stupid enough to try and rob it and

He saunters through and takes a seat at the counter, noting the young elf also sat there. He gives her a nod and a smile before picking up a menu. Scanning down it, he decides to be adventurous and see what delights the chef had cooked up that. Motioning to get the waitress' attention when she was free, he smiles at her and asks his question.

"Excuse me, what are the specials today?"

OOC Comments

Shrike is a tall, muscular elf, looking late twenties to early thirties with short spikey hair. From what you can see, his right arm is cybernetic and is wearing a long coat.

[Alyfox]

Hearing the door to the outside open, the elf glances back over her shoulder almost expectantly - seeing a tall male elf, she turns her attention back to the various items behind the counter, which she is eyeing curiously. When the male settles nearby, she looks over again and catches his nodded greeting; after a moment of hesitation she returns the nod politely, a weak smile curling the edges of her lips.

[Muppet Man]

"<Konbanwa, obaasan>. If it is not too much trouble, I would like to order a drink, please? Tea if you have it, or hot chocolate?"

"Whip cream with that hot chocolate? Well, I hope not, been three years since we had any of that. Be back in a minute, hon," the haggard server moves down the counter to the other elf.

"Excuse me, what are the specials today?"

"This soycaf is pretty special. And look, instant service," Linda says to Shrike, her tone betraying no emotion besides exhaustion and ambivalence. She does pour him a cup into heavy, chipped ceramic mug.

[Alyfox]

"Whip cream with that hot chocolate? Well, I hope not, been three years since we had any of that. Be back in a minute, hon," the haggard server moves down the counter to the other elf.

"Ahhh...." the elf starts then tilts her head and shrugs. "Fair enough, <shikataganai>. Thank you." she replies, though there is a puzzled expression on her face. Another shrug, she glances to the elf sitting nearby again, then shifts on her seat to glance out the window into the rain silently.

"Excuse me, what are the specials today?"

"This soycaf is pretty special. And look, instant service," Linda says to Shrike, her tone betraying no emotion besides exhaustion and ambivalence. She does pour him a cup into heavy, chipped ceramic mug.

The short conversation draws her attention back once more, watching Linda in particular though the elf is careful not to outright stare. Eventually though, she turns her gaze back out the window, stifling a sigh.

[Mulpa]

The elf straightens up a little further, somehow, then offers a polite nod. "<Konbanwa, obaasan>. If it is not too much trouble, I would like to order a drink, please? Tea if you have it, or hot chocolate?" she goes on to ask, her politeness genuine. Once Linda has departed to do whatever, the elf shifts on her seat to glance around the diner curiously, taking in everything and everyone as best she can, with an expectant look touching her guarded expression.

"Tea... Hot chocolate?!? Trust an Elf to drink those. Why didn't you just ask for some wine?"

Holding up his cup of soycaf for a refresh, Mulpa, or Peter Moroz as his ID says, adjusts his glasses as he studies the people in the restaurant. With a nod to the Lonestar at their tables, Mulpa knows they have no idea who he is.

These guys have no idea how useful anonymity is. I can walk along any street, and into many buildings with minimal effort, because I am 'just another Dwarf technician'. Even all those hotheads in the streets that want to try to earn themselves a place in the Vory by challenging me and beating me have no idea that I could be the dwarf they are just walking past.