Friend of a Friend [closed]

[Flamebird]

Corone.

Felicity grew up here.

Well... she particularly grew up along the Bradbury River, close to Concordia. Her father had peacefully managed a shop with his niece - adopted daughter's - help. Meanwhile, his son had joined the rangers, quickly rising through their military ranks. Felicity had wanted to join him in the fight for freedom someday. This drove her to seek the way of the sword... That, however, was ages ago. The teacher she found grew dark, her cousin died in a skirmish, her uncle died due to natural causes.

When this dark twist of traumatizing events caused her to flee, why did she decided to tread the soil here once more?

Well... nothing quite beat the capital's bazaar.

She needed to develop an outfit for her special... abilities... if they could be called that. Resistance to nuclear energy was rare at all. She only needed an outfit that would not get burned when her powers blazed at their strongest! Hopefully, she would find something here. She was skeptical.

She had been staying in an inn called The Golden Hind. It was like all inns. It has warm fireplaces, harty food... and drunken morons. Thankfully, it was within daytime, so the fools who thought drinking their health away was fun were not here. Neither were the paid lovers or drug dealers. She spent the nights in her room. Door locked, delyn sword under pillows. The world had proven itself to never be safe.

Now, a new day was starting. The seventeen year old lass strode down the oak hallways, to the casino and diner. She wore a simple outfit, cyan top and brown pants. Her marvelous sword hung at her hip, although covered by the long, fur poncho she wore over her shirt. her white fedora, worn over her pulled back, red hair, had a ribbon on it.

The half neanderthal pulled out a bag full of coin and tossed it on the counter. It was early enough in the morning, the tables were still being washed. The floor had plentiful spills and stains of consumables. In the corner, even a chair was completely broken. The entire crew was fixing it, the bored bartender absentmindedly washed beer kegs.

The inn was still recovering from last night's parties... if one could call them that.

The bald, stout bartender raised an eyebrow at the fairly large sack of money.

"Oh waiter?" The redhead rattled off her request, "Three over easy eggs, two sides of both sausage and bacon, a large house potato, two loaves of whole grain toast, and a stack of six banana pancakes with chocolate chips and strawberry syrup please?" She then leaped in place, holding her arms in cheery excitement as she bubbled, "Oh! And cherries on top! With whipped cream! Oh, please?"

He dropped his beer glass, mouth gaped at the request.

Felicity bit her lip, muttering quietly, "It's a neanderthal thing. Wickedly high metabolism..."

He scoffed, then wiped his hands with his soapy dish towel. "Coming right up, ma'am." He chuckled and whistled as he turned to the back.

Right around the time of this conversation, the dark room was sudden hit was rays of early morning sunlight. As dust particles floated in the air, she entered.