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Table 8 - Edward

Taking a seat beside Ahser, it must have started to look to the younger man as i Edward were growing attached to him. In reality, Edward like to stick to what he knew, and since, at the moment, those he knew beyond a simple name and face familiarity consisted of the Hermes chosen and his roommate, They were who he would be gravitating towards. On a completely subconscious level.

The rest of the table seemed to be in the middle of a conversation having to do with losing one's senses, but instead of jumping into it, Ed took his time to ladle food onto his plate. A little of everything, a little more of the things that looked exceptionally tasty, and he set into the meal with the sort of enthusiasm one would expect from a hot blooded twenty-something male that hadn't eaten in more than three hours.

Eating would keep him quiet for a while, but he was listening, pale eyes skipping from face to face as the other's talked around him.

Table 11


Mathilda smiled as Isaiah sat down.

"Hey, Stranger. Icebreakers, huh? Okay."

Hearing Isaiah's questions, Mathilda turned to face him.

"Neapolitan. There are different flavors, and depending on how I feel about you, is how I act."

Gently grabbing the ball from Isaiah, Mathilda threw it in the air.

Catching it, she grinned.

"Okay, surfer boy. If you had a warning label, what would yours say?

Table 5

She didn't see Cas or the other two she'd walked with on the Tour, and quite frankly, she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to deal with a large gaggle of people again. Even so, Rose made the efforts of picking her way through the food spread with not much of an appetite to speak of. She put enough food to serve as a snack on the plate instead - some fresh veggies, a small bit of chicken, half a glass of wine - and chose the table that seemed like it had the least amount of tension thus far. It didn't hurt that the two patrons - a beautiful young woman and strikingly pretty blue-haired man - seemed to be involved in some flirty banter.

Tucking her dress to the side, she took a careful suit and delicately situated her wine glass before dealing with her plate of food. Crossing her legs beneath the table at her ankles, she tipped her head to both of them in greeting. "Forgive my intrusion," she offered lightly, indicating she wouldn't need to be brought into the conversation if they were...involved.

Table 3 - Tom

Tom had wandered in around dinner time and his mouth was watering a bit at the smell of the food. It all smelled wonderful, much better than any college cafeteria. He might just stay here all the time just for the food.

He looked around and found that there seemed to be plenty of tables. Good. Though he would still have to figure out the best times to come here. Sometimes he would just want to sit by himself and others he may want some company. That's when one needed to figure out the least and most crowded times to go.

He also hoped there would be enough food. Sometimes he got extra hungry and ate more than he should have. Maybe he should keep some food in his dorm room...

Currently though, it looked as if there were people already at other tables and talking. He figured he would just go and sit at an empty one, though he did wish he had his ipad with him. It would be much easier to get through the meal if he could read during it. Maybe paper books would be allowed?

So, he walked over to an empty one and sat down glancing at the questions on the beach balls. Why beach balls? He couldn't help but ask himself, but he wouldn't say the question out loud. Instead he started to mentally answer the questions written on them in his head.

Table 11

Mathilda closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again, staring at Isaiah.

"Hmm, strawberry was gonna be my answer. I feel as though you're a sweet person, but strawberries can be sour also. You haven't given me a reason to not like you, more of the opposite," she leaned in close, smirking. "But time where tell how that goes, surfer boy. The ball is in your court, for now."

Taking a grape from him, she leaned away.

"And for my warning label, yours is close, maybe you should get some oven mitts. But, I believe one a bit more accurate would be, Caution, I bite."

Table 3 - Mercy

Mercy looked around the already crowded dinner, taking note of which tables had the most people and which didn't. Not that she wasn't social or anything, but it's wicked easy to get drowned out if you're a part of a huge group of people. She made her way towards the third table, sniffing as she sat down. The food smelled better than anything she could cook up [ which consisted of tv dinners and an almost unhealthy amount of junk food ], so she made a plate and smiled at the man who was glancing very intently at the beach ball before him.

"Never knew balls could be so entrancing. What kind of question do you have?"

Heh...balls.

She really needed to act more mature. She was supposed to be someone that was chosen by the gods...Wonder if I can learn how to Fus Roh Dah a dragon?! Damn that would be amazing if Ares taught something like that!

Table 5

Another twirl of the beach ball brought another Chosen to the table. Rasmus wondered if he could conjure up anything his heart desired, including basenotes, with another twirl. Since they were Chosen after all and Aphrodite was temperamental like that. Hailing the newcomer by way of introduction and acknowledgement of Marisol's greeting, Rasmus was curious about their childhoods and how they came to be.

"Hej Marisol and Rose, I'm Rasmus Jin. Beachball has spoken. If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be? "

Another spin of the addictive blow up, he tossed it to the blank space equidistant from the two femmes while answering, "I'd go for a salad as variety is the spice of life. A different vegetable a day, cold and snap are good for the soul." It wasn't a surprise that he was fudging the game rules by a lot. They didn't explicitly state if the ingredients or food makeup had to be the same. And Aphrodite was all about self love and an almost lazy, indolent indulgence anyway. He dove into the pie, butterflying the beautiful crust in one fell swoop as purple liquids gave way. Yum.

Table 4

Diryas had hung back a bit to take in everything, making note of where Zebulon practically power-walked off to. There were admittedly many more others here than he had initially expected. He was going to have to factor that in to any future plans, should it become necessary. So far, everyone seemed to be in a good mood, which relaxed him a bit. He wasn't sure what else he had expected but, then again, he hadn't really known enough to expect anything in particular.

He joined Zebulon at the table in time for the introductions, which he quietly observed--at first. He took a modest helping of food, of chicken, vegetables, and potatoes, avoiding the gravy without knowing what was in it. He did not, himself, strictly follow which food was halaal and which was haraam, but growing up in a family that did meant some foods had the tendency to upset his stomach. It would be terribly embarrassing to have to excuse himself over it, so better to avoid the problem entirely.

A Chosen of Hermes, from New York, and a Chosen of Hera, from Oregon. Zan and Gretta.

"Diryas, Maryland, Athena." He hoped his expression was friendly as he turned to Zan. "I'm doing well, thank you."