<div class="floatleft">(http://www.clipartbest.com/cliparts/di6/Gd5/di6Gd59i9.svg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Shadole<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Echo Chamber<br/><strong>Where In That Location:</strong>Flittering about<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Possibly nothing. Possibly something. That all depends on how you define 'wear'.<br/><strong>Tagging Who?</strong>Ellen.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The shadow woman continued to usher Ellen away. Perhaps the shadow knew; or perhaps she was just doing her thing. It was a little difficult to tell right now.  But, Ellen can definitely be sure of one thing. She is interacting with something that can best be described as a tangible silhouette. Which, hey, that might just mean she was drugged or something along the way. Or, you know, that Night Vale is a lot weirder than many outsiders can imagine.<br/><br/>"Yes ma'am. All our espressos meet the rigorous safety standards put in place by The City Council.  Our barista is certified, and everything, too," She adds in, cheerfully.  When the shadow heard Ellen talk about the beanbag chairs, the shadow seems to vibrate and lose some of its coherency; this lasted for only a moment. Only the blink of an eye. Then, it regained itself. "Don't listen to the beanbags.<strong>Ever.</strong>Don't worry, we'll take care of it for you,"<br/><br/>"Just relax, ma'am. I'll bring your espresso in just a moment," There was a tiny tickling sensation in the back of Ellen's mind. Then, the shadowy figure departed to relay an order to the barista, who would proceed to make an espresso that Ellen could easily give a 9/10 review to. Sneaky sneaky sneaky, poking at her brain and figuring out exactly how she wanted it without even needing to ask. That was just the sort of superb service one could expect of this fine locale.<br/><br/>While the espresso order is being relayed, and it is being made, two other shadows show up. One is carrying a vial of something. One picks up the 'defective' beanbag chair, revealing that there is, in fact, a mouth on the bottom of it. The other one pours the contents of the vial into the mouth of the beanbag chair. Then, they set it back down. It would stay quiet for quite some time now; and the wood of the floor resumed its usual black coloration, now that the wood was not concerned with being slobbered on.<br/><br/>Mere moments later, a silhouette--probably the same one that took her order--comes over to Ellen, carrying a saucer with a cup of espresso on it. It's a very nice porcelain cup, with intricate and complex murals of bloodstone rituals in a lovely red coloration on it, undoubtedly crafted by some local artisan.<br/><br/>Ellen may note, that while she could not hear the tinkling of the silhouettes that dealt with the beanbag chair, she could hear the tinkling sound of the one bringing her the espresso. Also, if Ellen desired a biscotti, scone, or other such tasty pastry, there would be one with her espresso, even though she had not asked it.