Wish/Matthew/Steakhouse
You really don't feel like going to another town; and you're pretty certain that Allorah will like the local Steakhouse, the poorly named but amazingly delicious Bob's House of Meat.
"Okay then," you say, "I recommend Bob's House of Meat. The name may be cringe-inducing, but the food is absolutely amazing."
"Sounds great," says Allorah with a big smile.
You drive to the steakhouse and find a good parking spot. It's likely to be packed today, since it's Labor Day weekend, but you are here nearly at open, so you're hopeful. You see there is a bit of a line, but make your way to the hostess with Allorah in tow anyway. After a few minutes you get to the front of the line.
"Excuse me miss," you say, "how long is the wait?"
"How many in your party?" she asks in reply.
"Just the two of us," you reply.
"It will be about forty minutes . . . unless. No, I suppose that would be weird with your daughter."
"What would be weird?"
"Well, we do have one of the private rooms that are generally used for couples wanting a romantic meal. It costs one hundred dollars plus the cost of the meal, but I could seat you right away." She holds her hand up to her mouth and whispers in a conspiratorial way, "The truth is, they don't get much use. Not many couples think of Bob's House of Meat for date night. They're the boss's babies though, so they aren't going anywhere."
"I didn't even know about them," you say. "That might be part of the problem; lack of advertising. One hundred dollars you say?"
"Yep."
You've spent more for less. You decide to take it. "Alright, we'll take it."
"Brandy," calls the hostess. A young blonde girl in a waitress outfit pops around the corner. "Two for the Arizona Room."
"Oh a couple of lo-vely father and daughter," she says, catching herself as she takes in the situation. She clears her throat and continues, "Right this way please." She leads you to the side of the restaurant to a door with a desert scene painted on it. Opening the door you see a small room about ten foot square with two comfortable chairs and a small round table. The walls are decorated in a desert western theme, which you are having difficulty linking with romantic feelings. In the center of the table is a candle, and the lights are set low. Brandy adjusts a dial behind the door and the lights brighten to the level of the rest of the restaurant. You help Allorah into her seat, then take your own.
"My name is Brandy," says your waitress as she places menus in front of you, "I will be your server today. Welcome to the Arizona Room. For your privacy and convenience the light above the door will light at least twenty seconds before the door opens. The walls are sound resistant to add to your rom - I mean father-daughter bonding time? If you need the attention of the wait staff, you can press the call button located here," she says while indicating said button. "Can I start you off with some beverages?"
"Do you have Pepsi," you begin to say, stopping yourself as you see the beverage selection, "I see it's Coke products. I guess I'll have . . . the sweet tea." You turn to Allorah. "What would you like to drink, Allorah?"
"Wine would be fine," she says casually. Brandy raises her eyebrow . . . likely at just how casually she says it.
"Very funny, young lady," you say to cover; using your best role-playing acting skills (which are actually pretty spectacular). "You know you're still too young to drink, birthday or not."
"I had to try, daddy," she says with a sweet innocent girl act. When she calls you 'daddy' your cock jumps like it hasn't done in years. You always knew you had a daughter complex, but you've never experienced it directly before. "I'll have water with lime, please."
The act seems to placate Brandy. "I'll be right back with your drinks while you decide what to order," she says, then leans over to Allorah. "I used to try that with my dad too. About the same result." She then leaves you alone with your sexy new jinni.
"Does anything in the menu catch your eye," you ask Allorah.
"Oh, was I supposed to look at this?" she asks, picking up the menu. "I thought my daddy would just order for me."
"A-hem," you clear your throat, thankful that she can't tell how erect that word made you, "I can order for you if you wish, but you are your own person. You can have whatever you want."
"Well, you're the one who has been here before," she says. "I'm sure you know what tastes good."
"It's been a while," you say. "I didn't even remember that they didn't serve Pepsi products. I do remember the food though. Do you like seafood?"
"It depends . . . " she says, trailing off.
"Shrimp?"
"Yes," she says, "they are delicious."
"Alright, how about I get us the grilled shrimp appetizer; then I'll have the eight ounce ribeye with fries and a salad, and you'll have the six ounce fillet minion . . . do you want fries or a baked potato?"
"I thought you were choosing?" she says.
"Right, sorry . . . I thought I was just choosing the main course. Let's wait for our drinks." It isn't a long wait before you hear a light tone and see the light above the door turn on. It feels like forever before the door opens to Brandy standing there with your drinks. You always forget how long a second really is until you face twenty of them. That should give you plenty of time to sort yourselves out should the need arise.
"Here is your iced tea," says Brandy as she puts the glass in front of you. "And here is your water miss . . . with . . . lime. Are you ready to order?"
"Yes," you say, "we'll have Bob's Shrimp on the Barbie to start. I'll have the Round-up Ribeye and Allorah will have the Fancy Fillet Minion both with fries and a salad."
"Must be a special occasion," says Brandy, likely impressed at the expense of the dishes you chose. "Ah yes, didn't I hear something about a birthday?"
You're about to comment, but Allorah is all over it. "Yep, I'm nine years old today. Apparently I'm old enough for a pony, but not old enough for wine."
"A pony, you say?" says Brandy. "You must be one special girl."
"Anything for my princess," you interject.
"Need another daughter?" asks Brandy with a laugh. The joke makes you take another look at her. You haven't really had eyes for anyone but Allorah all day, but your daughter complex compels it after her comment. She is still young for a waitress; not long out of high school you'd wager. No older than nineteen or twenty. She is thin and fit with small breasts and light blonde hair that seems likely to be bleached instead of natural. She has a pretty face, and lovely grey eyes. She would definitely be a good "daughter" for you . . . but first thing's first. You have Allorah to deal with.
"Oh this little firecracker is more than enough," you say.
"I'll be right back with your food. Oh, and I brought these for Allorah." She puts down a box of crayons and a coloring book, then leaves, shutting the door behind her.
Allorah looks blankly at the crayons and coloring book. "What am I supposed to do with these?"
"They are meant to be an artistic outlet to keep children occupied while they are waiting for their food. Kids today have short attention spans, and parents don't engage with their children very effectively."
"Well we will not be needing these," she says as she pushes them aside. "Whatever shall we talk about while we wait?"
Whatever shall you talk about? (all elements are in all branches . . . what is the focus)
- Focus on learning more about your situation as Allorah's new master.
- Focus on getting to know Allorah better on a personal level.
- Focus on romancing Allorah.
| Reflexes: | 5 | Strength: | 7 | Resilience: | 12 |
| Dexterity: | 5 | Speed: | 6 | Stamina: | 9 |
| Health: 84% | |||||
| Perception: | 10 | Knowledge: | 15 | Willpower: | 10 |
| Logic: | 11 | Wit: | 13 | Focus: | 11 |
| Intellect: 95% | |||||
| Empathy: | 5 | Presence: | 7 | Confidence: | 10 |
| Charisma: | 5 | Rapport: | 6 | Influence: | 8 |
| Sanity: 55% | |||||