Hmm, Dogs

Elzen Krusha

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A desert. Dust and then some. Kickin’ up dirt for all it was worth, went someone’s expression. He had encountered the traveler on his way in toward this establishment. No tavern. No cantina. A diner. Wasn’t on his agenda but there it was. A rest stop. Its name was HazeTalk.

It gave him pause as he walked onward. He was on a mission, maybe, only he wasn’t as much as he was. Maybe that made no sense. Then again, perhaps that was the point and purpose of this story. Senseless. Nonsense.

Just another song, just another poem, just another stop in the long march onward toward everything and nothing. Though, things would be revealed in time, as with location and purpose. Truth of the matter was concealed for the moment.

He was parched. Thirsted if determined to move along. Thirst would be removed given the diner in the distance. It was no mirage. He walked in his outfit fit for a desert and the occasion, whatever this planet. It was hot. It was morning. It was time for breakfast.

He might fight it but he was hungry as much as thirsty. So he would break his fast and, as he arrived at the entrance to the diner in the middle of nowhere, Elzen Krusha wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, whistled into the wind, and the Human-Chiss hybrid stepped in.

Whatever he would discover, whoever was already in this diner, he would eat and he would drink. It would be a rather lovely thing.
 

Jayrenel Metrum

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She had the outfit fit for this environment, she reckoned. She was adventurous. She came to this location of this planet to explore it, for medicine was her purpose, and she was determined to discover the secrets within the dunes and the mesas.

With ease of feet in boots, she had moved to the tune of the hot wind and the sand that did its best to deter her, but it never did. Sure, she was an adventurer if not quite a journeyer. She was an explorer if not a warrior. Yet she wasn’t an idiot.

Dr. Jayrenel Metrum. That’s her name and her office. She had a doctorate in medicine. It was her practice and her purpose. She was even a member of the Star Guardians faction as a Star Medic. She didn’t regret it.

Yet, at the moment, she had taken this establishment, HazeTalk, for what it was worth as it offered her tired ass a moment to take a break. This diner wasn’t too fancy, was pretty simple really, and its patrons probably thought no differently.

However, whatever their true thoughts or predicaments, amid the music currently playing, Jay decided to waltz on over to the jukebox and explore the music tracks on offer to her. There were a number in no particular order.
Finally, Dr. Jay picked a track, and it played as she sat back at her table and listened, sipped her coffee, and thought of her adventure.

A pain pill, in the end, was quite like the coffee that filled her grip if there was whiskey within it.
 

Armen Westyll

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There were a number of booths in this diner. Stools too right beside the counter. A few servers. Some cooks. Couple cashiers. Wait. No. Looked like one was the same as the other and the whole lot of them shared roles. That was cool. Maybe. It was something anyway and good enough for Armen kind of like his plate.

“These are eggs.” He said as he looked from the person on the other side of the counter to his plate of eggs on the counter as he sat on a stool in his outfit watching it.

“Yes,” she said.

“Oh. No. I mean. These are eggs?”

“Yes.”

“They’re kinda green, I guess.”

“They’re drenchen eggs,” she sighed at that with her eyes on her datapad.

“Drenched in eggs?” Armen blinked at that statement.

“No, no,” she shook her head. “They’re dren-chen eggs. Eggs from the drenchen. Like you get eggs from a chicken?”

“Oh. Okay.” They did look like eggs anyway. Just. Well. Green eggs. I guess. His expression offered no disgust for her, however. He was just curious. “They look great.”

“Whatever.” She moved to serve another person as Armen gazed at his plate. He tasted the eggs. Taste like egg. He blinked at his meat.

“Wait a minute.” He tried to get her attention again. “What about the ham? Why’s that green?” She wasn’t listening.

Poking his ham with a knife, Armen wondered if it was from the drig instead of the pig or something. He sipped his coffee and thought about eating it while listening to music.

“Hey what the hett!?” Someone different said behind Armen as he gave her his attention. “This is In The End!?” She promptly rose from her window booth, held a stance like ‘What should I do?’ then broke into a dance and sang. “One thing, I don’t know why, it doesn’t even matter how hard you try.” She shifted to her left, shifted to her right, gazing into empty space, so focused on the music.

Guess them drenchen eggs make you want to move it. She had breakfast food too. Wait a minute. Her eggs are blue.
 
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