"... there might be food in there too," Chrome agrees, looking away slightly.
So through the door they go, into what is probably the most pristine environment they will find anywhere in Texas right now, a restaurant almost untouched by the decay surrounding it.
It's ... also very empty.
At least until a man comes rushing around from the back, summoned by the sound of the door's bell, shotgun in hand.
Chrome reaches for her trident, sets her stance; the man blinks and lowers his gun.
"Are you ... real people?" he asks, disbelief quaking in his voice.
Chrome looks at Snow, baffled, then back at the man. "Yes?"
Slowly, the man sets the shotgun against the counter, relocks the safety. "Then do you - want anything to eat?"
Chrome blinks, then looks at Snow again.
(Truthfully, nothing in this exchange baffles her so much as this: that someone who is not Mukuro or the Boss is asking her whether she should be fed.)
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So through the door they go, into what is probably the most pristine environment they will find anywhere in Texas right now, a restaurant almost untouched by the decay surrounding it.
It's ... also very empty.
At least until a man comes rushing around from the back, summoned by the sound of the door's bell, shotgun in hand.
Chrome reaches for her trident, sets her stance; the man blinks and lowers his gun.
"Are you ... real people?" he asks, disbelief quaking in his voice.
Chrome looks at Snow, baffled, then back at the man. "Yes?"
Slowly, the man sets the shotgun against the counter, relocks the safety. "Then do you - want anything to eat?"
Chrome blinks, then looks at Snow again.
(Truthfully, nothing in this exchange baffles her so much as this: that someone who is not Mukuro or the Boss is asking her whether she should be fed.)