[CENTER][COLOR=orange][B]"CHINO"[/B][/COLOR][h1][color=orange][b]YOJI LARA CELESTINO[/b][/color][/h1]
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[color=darkorange]♦[/color] [b]Time[/b]: Afternoon 
[color=darkorange]♦[/color] [b]Location[/b]: Central Point - [i]Entre Dos Islas[/i] 
[color=darkorange]♦[/color] [b]Interaction:[/b] [@Baraquiel] [@Pilatus] 
[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4938163]Link[/url] to Yoji’s character bio.[/center]

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[indent][indent]Yoji listened as Alison revealed a bit about herself. Several words sparked his interest, but one in particular resonated with him the most. [i]Alone[/i]. A feeling of dread came and went, and he quickly tucked such feelings away like most do. No, he did not want such thoughts to fester for long, not for him, or for anybody else. Instead, he focused back to the other things she mentioned and found light in that.
 

“Ho ho! A singer in our midst!” Yoji’s eyes lit up. “I will not embarrass you and ask you to sing what you are working on. No, no! I would never do that! But... should your Teofilo Tonkatsu feed you well, and give you life and inspiration, I will not hold you back!” 

As if on queue, her plate slid down the kitchen table toward Yoji. He scooped it gracefully like he did a thousand times before, setting it down in front of Alison. The sliced pork cutlet sizzled with marinated tonkatsu flavors, resting comfortably between toasted buns. 

Yoji finally introduced himself after Paige did. He laughed when she talked about taking a dynamite nap after eating her sandwich. When she asked if the cups were for sale, Yoji gave a big smile. He couldn’t help but blush with pride.  

“No, I’m afraid these are just for serving here...but if you’d like, I can sell it for...eh... 5 dollars!” Yoji nodded his head, as if convincing himself that that was a fair price. If his uncle were there he would’ve slapped the back of his head and yelled: 20 dollars! Heck, the fact that somebody even asked was a surprise. [i]I guess they’re not as sucky as I thought[/i].

Paige’s order came before she could make a response. The plate slid down to Yoji, who grabs it to the rhythm of the instrumentals playing in the speakers, and lays the Super Cuban down in front of her. The array of cooked vegetables layered in seasoning and saucy goodness was perfectly symmetrical to the Cuban breads stacked between them. 

“Here you go! Hopefully the sandwich will be as dynamite as your nap!” The cooks whistled in agreement. 

Minutes later, a man’s raspy voice could be heard from somewhere off in the distance. It was incoherent, but it sounded loud and aggressive. Yoji turned from the dining side, over to the to-go side of the food truck to get a better look. A man in his late thirties with long, unkept blonde hair, was stomping around in dark blue pajamas. He had one slipper on his right foot, and the other was bare.  

“UNLEASH THE KRAKEN!” The crazy man raised his hands and glared at the heavens with bulbous eyes. 

Yoji looked back at Ali and Paige and shrugged as he said, “Someone should tell him it’s already been released.” 


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