((Wow, your art is beautiful! ;w; That's awesome! And three more days~ *gaspeth* I can't wait any longer >w<
I'm gonna have to edit this later, I'm a bit rushed at the moment and my roleplaying inspiration is really low. ono And with your siggie request, I'm almost done-- just need to add some stuff in and clean it up a bit. I haven't forgotten, don't worry c: I've just been a bit sick.
This will be very short-- my brain is lazy at the moment and my motivation is still a little low. ;A;))
"Okiedokie then~" Zecora smiled, instantly agreeing on the choice of food Luke had made. Although at the moment every food on the menu sounded great to her, she knew she had to narrow down the choices. She couldn't have everything, but to her own amusement, that's what she felt she wanted.
The thought of that mysterious masked creature came back to her in a flash, whether she liked it or not. She wondered why it had even come to London in the first place, or if it had already lived here before all of this happened. Just picturing those hollow eyes caused her inwardly to shiver, and though she kept her reaction deeply hidden in her mind, it wasn't easy to just forget about what she thought she had hallucinated was the real deal. And the mask it wore-- Zecora was interested in what kind of mask it really was. The news of the Mask of Unity, that was stored as an ancient artifact in the museum, went missing a few years back. The young lady barely remembered seeing the section about it in the newspaper, and wondered if her parents still kept it. She'd probably have to go filing through all sorts of papers, and for an obvious reason she wasn't too keen on doing that. But maybe the newly nicknamed Masquerade was the one who stole the mask, as it went missing the same day she first saw the beast two years ago. I might be able to find the newspaper, but it would take some time.
Leaning back with an inaudible sigh, Zecora glanced up to see the waitress had arrived at the register. Her brain ached from thinking too much, and worrying about it senselessly would just cause stress-- even though she had told herself she'd stop thinking about it more than once.
He watched as Zecora drifted off into deep thought about something, and Layton guessed she was thinking about the newest, most attention-awarded news from the daily newspaper, but it seemed as though she'd had an encounter with it before. But wondering when she did was the result of his pondering.
As a waitress stepped up to the register, he bowed kindly. "Hello. Fine morning we have today, no?" he greeted, "We'll have one latte, a Penne Gratin, and... have you chosen what you'd like, Luke?" Clearly the Professor had lost his appetite for some unknown reason; he glanced toward his apprentice, extending his arm in a gentlemanly fashion.
((Derp, Layton's posts are always short. ;u;))
