Welcome to Gaia! ::

Table 8

Finally, a list of everyone - not that he'd been missing many, just one. Dahl might not remember them all, but he leveled a smile at Mal. "Ah, I was wondering if you even had a name." Mal never had introduced himself, though he'd caught the other's names at the table. Asher was brightly colored (Dahl might have spent a few minutes trying to puzzle out the flashy design on his shirt before giving up) and cocky, slender too; Ewan clearly was into cars and music - both probably loud and fast; Mal seemed strait-laced. And the last guy was someone who probably could have starred in the next Marvel movie. They kept using interchangeable blond haired blue eyed guys anyway. Not his type, if he had one.

Nothing like a little time spent playing with balls to try to promote male bonding.

Table 4

This food was really good. Infinitely superior to what his undergraduate university had called cafeteria food for sure. He couldn't even count the number of times that--

Zebulon's eyes lifted again when another man joined them, a rapid fire type that definitely seemed like he'd easily fit under the definition of Hermes. He had the cadence of a stand-up comedian. Wait, was he a stand-up comedian? He was from New York, so it would fit, provided he was from the City, which he figured he probably was with that level of fast-talking--

The other seemed much more gentle and not nearly as fast-talking. Also rather nice and warm, which Zebulon appreciated. A small, earnest smile crossed his face when she talked, even if his lips didn't quirk overly much.

Then there was Diryas, whose attempt at a friendly smile was cute at best. Zebulon snorted under his breath -- just loud enough for Diryas to hear, of course.

"Crazy's definitely a word for it. I think I'd also use the word surreal. Not sure I'm entirely awake right now." he laughed, dipping his spoon back into the soup. For a moment, it seemed he almost wasn't going to give his name, but then he added, after a swallow, "Zebulon. I'm from Maryland too, also Chosen of Athena."

Table 8

"Someone has to sit on the sidelines and heckle."

"I'll just provide the soundtrack. And the fast cars." They were both things he liked -- but he shook his head, swallowing the last of a chicken leg he'd recently demolished before reaching for his lemonade. "I mean. Life gets pretty dull when you work in a prison."

He paused.

"Worked in a prison." And with it, that grin again. "But it got interesting a couple of times."

He picked up the beachball again, tossing it idly from hand to hand -- and then tossed it up in the air with a bit of a spin, so that it'd land on a number when he caught it.

"If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Again? Someone else do it." He tossed it to whoever caught it.

Table 8

Edward's fork paused halfway to his mouth as Asher nicked a finger at him. Something about a sitcom. It has him lowering the uneaten bite to his plate, brows arching in something lost between amusement and surprise. "That would make for a very weird sitcom, I'd think." His opinion based solely on his own former job, having not met either Amal or Dahl before now, and knowing nothing about them yet.

A ball was tossed up and caught by the one being affectionately referred to as fast and the furious, and Ed shifted to better see him as he asked a question.

The answer was an easy one, and came out with a bit of a snort. "Somewhere other than Seatle. Warm, semi tropic. Short winters." The where didn't matter, exactly. It was the specifics Edward was after.

Table 3

Tom looked to where he seemed to be addressed from and noticed someone had sat the table with him. He smiled back at her. "Just a little distracted is all, though I don't mind some reading when I'm eating. Just wanted to see what types of questions there were on there." He then helped himself to a plate of everything, though the potatoes covered over half of it.

"Some of these are interesting, though I couldn't answer them about myself." He said, almost to himself as he started to eat a bit. He gave a nod to the other guy who had just joined them. He looked at the chicken and decided to take a bite. It was really, really good. "Definitely good. A lot better than KFC." He said chuckling a bit. Though the potatoes were his favorite right now. Never could go wrong with those.

"Looks like they're conversation starters." He replied, looking at the beach balls again. "Hmm... Wow, some of these I don't even want to think about. But if I had to travel back in time... I would probably go with a year that had dinosaurs in it or before America was colonized." He looked at his two dining companions. "What do you guys think?"

table 2

Lincoln wouldn't be alone for much longer. A familiar face plopped down across from him, her tray stacked with one of everything she could reach. It was a little funny, given that Stormy was a notably slow eater, but she didn't want to waste an opportunity to miss out on such a fresh meal. Definitely not like her usual cafeteria lunches at any rate.

"Hi," she said mildly, eyes darting up to look at his briefly before settling back on her food. "I thought I heard you on the tour."

Table 2


He was still in the process of considering dessert when there was a soft clatter. A small, slight figure with pale pink hair was seating herself in front of Lincoln - a surprisingly familiar figure that he narrowed his eyes at, gaze flickering across her face.

"Stormy," he said, a little warily, lowering his fork back to his plate. Lincoln glanced automatically around, as though half expecting to see his sister anywhere nearby as well, though he knew instinctively that she was still back at home.

"I thought I glimpsed you earlier, but I thought it was a mistake," he said now, leaning back in his seat. "I didn't expect to see you here. Are you all right?"