[Digging into her bag, she unearths a glossy takeout carton with the lid folded shut and a cheery logo emblazoned on the side — Chinese, to an eye born and raised on Earth, though that's not what the Johto residents would call it, obviously — and hands it down to him, along with a pair of chopsticks in paper wrapping.
(He'll find the Johto equivalent of Peking duck inside when he opens it, too; she'll let him have first crack at it for the sake of significance, but she'll reclaim it before long for the sake of dinner.)
She's not picky about her own choice, though, and plucks a box at random, unearthing her own set of chopsticks before finding a smaller, stubby branch nearby to hang the bag on as she settles in for a long chat.]
no subject
(He'll find the Johto equivalent of Peking duck inside when he opens it, too; she'll let him have first crack at it for the sake of significance, but she'll reclaim it before long for the sake of dinner.)
She's not picky about her own choice, though, and plucks a box at random, unearthing her own set of chopsticks before finding a smaller, stubby branch nearby to hang the bag on as she settles in for a long chat.]
Here. Flatterers first.
[She's teasing, naturally.]
And then my story, please.