<span style="color: Red"><span style="font-family: 'Courier new'">"Menggu niúròu over steamed rice, Barbecue potatoes, A mixed fruit bowl, and a Strawberry Daiquiri... are you joking? Do you think this some luxury restaurant?"</span></span><br/><br/>Before Deimia stood not the busy and busty elsewhere waitress woman, but someone... smaller, and completely different. Dressed in<a class="externalLink" href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/9e/85/cb/9e85cb3c87aef885cefcb1c49b7362c0.jpg" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">a frilly waitress outfit several sizes too small for her</a>was something as far from a normal human as Deimia herself. Dragongirls weren't as rare in the capital as elsewhere, where they were a once-in-a-lifetime thing, but they were still uncommon, and while Requiem hosted several draconic members, you could count them on one hand, or two hands if certain rumours were to be believed. To have one dress as a waitress was the sort of situation where you'd start pinching yourself because you're having impossible dreams again. Yet there the dragongirl was. Big wings taller than her, deep amber eyes and a... mildly confused looked as she sniffed the air? She was not someone Deimia had seen before, having caught glimpses of at best, but she did not seem afraid or disgusted by Deimia in the least.<br/><span style="color: Red"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"><br/>
"The kitchen provides food for over a hundred people and you want to-?"</span></span><br/><br/>Suppressed snickering and laughter from closeby interrupted the she-dragon. A trio of guildmembers were casting glances over at them, and instantly the dragongirl smacked her hands into the counter and fumed, grinding her teeth with absolute contempt that made it all those obvious those three were responsible for her current predicament. A  predicament that, as the dragongirl leaned slightly forward unconsciously was exposing oh so much of those big, bountiful orbs threatening to slip up out of her outfit's constraints. A tantalizing hint of aureola was exposed before Deimia's private show was cut short by the she-dragon storming off, grabbing the empty flagon Keiga had left behind and casting a very threatening glance at the trio.<br/><br/>Nyxilimnartren was not a happy dragon right now. If she had to rank her mood, it would be 'thirty minutes before wildfire'. She didn't spend a lot of time at the guild, really, only coming back to sleep. But today she had made the mistake of hanging around the sleeping quarters and making a bet, which she lost. They'd allowed a second bet to give Nyx another chance at winning, but her pride was sort of screaming for their blood right now. She wasn't going to back down though, she'd have them begging and admitting their utter defeat at the hands of a superior being soon enough.<br/><br/>Nyx began to clean the flagon, using one hand and a towel wrapped around her tail, her other hand clutching a small notebook, ready to note down Deimia's order. She was forcing a smile on her lips as she tried to keep her temper in check in front of the blue-skinned woman before.<span style="color: Red"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"> "Now, picky princess, I can see what sort slob this place's cooks got prepared that somewhat looks like what you want, or you can have one of the day's dishes. Either way I honestly don't care."</span></span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>