James
*Orphiel worked in the kitchen of the small eatery, frying meat, cooking rice, chopping vegetables, and boiling radishes and peppers. She sped from one station to another, dumping, scraping, mixing, and simmering the foods together to create all the different dishes the eatery provided. Orphiel loved to cook, but it was tiring work. Her shift would end soon, and another person would come in to take over for her in this hectic kitchen. Orphiel wiped her brow with her sleeve, and pushed two more plates brimming with steaming food onto the counter. She rang the old cowbell mounted on top of the serving window and called out a number. It was natural to her now. She had been working this kitchen job for over 3 years now, and she was one of the most experienced cooks there. But that wasn't much coming from a fast-food employee. Orphiel's shift was soon over, and she hung up her apron and walked out the back of the restaurant, high-fiving the new cook coming in. She took out the little meal she had prepared for herself, a small chicken-pepper stir-fry she had cobbled together as she was leaving. She sat in the main eating area of the eatery, scooping up piles of rice and chicken with her small wooden cutlery set she'd carved when she was 15. It brought back good memories, and there were almost no splinters. Her head turned upward as she heard the door open, and a large Macen walked through. Orphiel turned her head back down to finish her food, wondering for a moment what a Macen, looking presumably from Salvania, was doing here.*
Pauline
Sirdan was always a wanderer, always hunting for the most lucrative contracts. And the past two weeks, he found himself wandering all the way east to Keguntan. A land of opportunity they say - a city full of merchants...

And he has been dallying around too, because the city was full of the type he prefers. As he passed by an eatery, the aroma of roasted meat reached his nose - It smelled quite appetizing. He turned around to look at the name of the restaurant - It was written in a language he doesn't understand. Doesn't matter! He hoped his own pidgin Silnarian will do. 

He walked into the restaurant, sniffing vigorously as the spell of chicken pepper stir fry reached his nose. Now he was positively salivating - longing for the comfort of a hot and savory meal.

He looked around for a table, and a waiter directed him to one close to Orphiel. He took off his helmet, revealing his pointy ears - a sign that he was in fact, not the Macen she thought he was - but an elf. He scanned the restaurant for any interesting person, his eyes briefly landing on the... Surprisingly small looking Oni.
Jessica
O:*Orphiel saw the man take off his helmet, his ears becoming visible and correcting her that he was an elf, not a macen. He was getting alarmingly close, and Orphiel was worried he might sit down at her table. For a cook who served meals to over 50 people a day, Orphiel was not a people person. She preferred to stay away from most other intelligent races, as they usually only wanted one of a few things: her wallet, her body, or her life. All of which Orphiel kind of wanted to keep to herself.*
*The elf was searching around the room when his eyes landed right on her. She stiffened in fear and hoped he would not sit near her. And she couldn't just get up and leave. It would perceive her as rude. One of the few things Orphiel dreaded more than interaction was making a bad first impression. She had made many in the cooking industry, and was prepared to make many more. That didn't make her like them, though. Orphiel took a few deep breaths and readied herself for her worst enemy after dirty dishes: small talk.*
Latonya
Sirdan- 

*Unfortunately for Orphiel, the remarkably small eatery is running out of space. So, Sirdan never managed to get a seat at a table **Next** To her. Instead, he was redirected to one of the open spot - which happens to be the same table as Orphiel. 

The towering Macen ended up in the seat in front of her, and he pulled out a chair, making himself comfy as he looked at the remarkably short Oni. He nodded at her as a matter of courtesy, and then wondered what to say.* 

"Hello!" *He said cheerfully, before turning to the menu besides him, flipping through it, wondering if the... Shy looking Oni would respond.*
James
*Orphiel looked up her petite crown at the large elf man as he sat down across from her, nodding politely and looking through the men after an enthusiastic greeting. Orphiel's brain suddenly overloaded, as it usually did when faced with conversation. She couldn't respond normally to a greeting to save her life. She took in a deep breath and nodded politely back.* "H-hello." *Orphiel didn't grab a menu. Why would she? She knew how to make every dish in this place, and she had sampled each one many times. For herself, of course. Orphiel was not a messy cook. Her most deathly, eternal fear was disease, and she would not let it compromise herself or others. The particular dish Orphiel was eating was not on the menu, it was one of her own creation. She had sent a letter to the manager requesting its addition to the menu, as she believed it would be a nice addition to the otherwise-homogenized series of curries, soups, and stir-fries currently available. Orphiel wondered if the man would notice her unique dish. Likely not, she surmised. It was similar to another dish on the menu, he would probably just think she had asked for extra toppings or something similar.*
Pauline
*Sirdan nodded back at her, and then turned toward the menu, flipping through it as indecisions went through his head - He was plenty hungry and plenty rich, so any order would not make a real dent in his pocket. But all those delicious food and he could try two or three dishes at best... 

To solve his dysfunction, he decided to look around for what other regulars were eating, craning his neck left, right and center. Then he looked at the one in front of him. It smelled and looked nice - the taste of black pepper seems to complement the chicken quite well. He should try this out.*

"What's the name of that dish? I'd like to try it out." *He asked, waiting for his reply before he looked at the menu for curries - It sounded and looked interesting, maybe he'll try it out.*
James
*Dammit, dammit, dammit! He noticed! Orphiel wondered why she was hiding the fact she was a cook here. Maybe because she didn't want to acknowledge the feeling inside her to have a real conversation with someone, about something meaningful for a change.* "Oh... Um... It doesn't... It doesn't have a name." *Orphiel fiddled with her hands and her lap, intertwining her fingers and pulling them apart again. She started muttering to herself.* "Maybe something simple, like Pepper Chicken Stir-Fry... Or something fancier like Spicy Chicken Surprise... Hmm..." *Orphiel noticed the elf again and gave a small nervous grin. He would have noticed what her coworkers so bluntly nicknamed her nervous ticks: stutter-mutter. She was the cook with the stutter-mutter, they would say. Orphiel hated it, but what could she do? She was short, they were tall. She was weak, they were strong. She was a demon, they were oriates. Outmatched in every way. Or at least she thought so. Orphiel turned her attention back to the elf.* "Uh, b-but we do have some n-nice c-curries and... Uh... Soups, if you want."