originally posted in:The New Dojo
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Chloe."
[i]Drake squinted down at the menu, trying his best to appear confident. He could make our most of the words--at least, those that he recognized from home--but hopefully she wouldn't call his bluff on something that he didn't know. He fixed her with a charming grin, before he turned back to the menu,[/i]
"Err, more or less. What kind of food were you in the mood for?"
[i]His crimson jacket didn't shine in the light like you'd expect it to, but it still flapped around in a phantom wind. Beneath that he wore casual space-jockey clothing: a white shirt with tight-ish grey pants, fixed with a strange insignia on his chest. He had something strapped to his waist and chest, like a bandoleer, but considering the amount of fighters in the Dojo, it wouldn't surprise you if he was armed. [/i]
English
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[i]"Oh! It's food? I see... I guess anything."[/i] [b]She looked at the menu once more, wishing she had an actual translator, but she was thankful for Michael. He seemed kind...[/b] [i]"What do they have...?"[/i] [b]She asked, her voice becoming more lyrical as she spoke. It had a gentleness, a kind of, soothing tone to it. It wasn't really on purpose either. But the likelihood was that she was a good singer.[/b]