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[right][b][code]The Reception Room.[/code][/b][/right]
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[@Punished GN]

Jill bobbed and weaved her way through the crowd with nervous ease. She felt boxed in, and found herself deeply preferring that she’d be out on the road right now, with tons of space and fresh air. Where could that girl have ran off to? She sure had a knack for getting in trouble-

The wayward rider’s train of thought came to an abrupt stop as she collided with another woman. She gasped, stumbled back a bit, and blushed. Partially because she was so embarrassed about not even looking where she was going, and partially because this lady was, by her estimation, rather pretty! Jill successfully managed to cram every awkward feeling into an out of the way corner of her mind as she watched her biggest fan get excited. She shook her hand with the kind of casual handshaking expertise you had to practice for.

“Pleased to meet’cha, Auri!” Jill smiled. “But I guess you already know me, huh? Pretty cool that I might see a friendly face in the ring!” 

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Jasmine had only a sigh to offer up in response. There was probably some really deep thought to be had about the hedgehog’s dilemma, but she wasn’t in the mood to finish it. Beelzebub flapped over and said something completely unintelligible through a mouthful of chicken; meat, bones, wrappers and all.

[color=darkviolet]“Yeah,”[/color] Jasmine said. [color=darkviolet]“At least I got that signature.”[/color] The Prince of Gluttony swallowed. He had already eaten at least three times the volume of his entire body, and still maintained the same amount of fuzzy pudge.

[color=tomato]“Well, I’m sure we’ll see ‘im again sooner or later.”[/color] Beelzebub stopped to lick his lips clean. [color=tomato]“Say, I know what’ll cheer ya up! Y’never got one a them hot dogs!”[/color] Jasmine shrugged and called out her bizarre little order, pulling another energy drink from her pack. 


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[@Zoey Boey]

Rosie could tell that she hit a nerve. It was understandable, especially at Bea’s age. Though the devil had long since embraced the winds of change as a way of life, that wasn’t always the case, and she could recognize the curse of uncertainty.

Still, she said nothing, only smiling and occasionally nodding understandingly. The thing about growing up is there aren’t any magic words you can say to make it happen. At least, not right away. Bea definitely had a good head on her shoulders if she didn’t trust the Power Stones, at least. As far as Rosie was concerned, those things were poison. Always best to hand the hot potato off to someone else before any of the major players even knew you had it. Preferably for a tidy sum, if possible.

Beatriz, for her part, picked a fantastic change of subject: Her beloved hat.

[color=MediumPurple]“Oh, this?”[/color] She took the article off its perch so Bea might have a better look at it. [color=MediumPurple]“It’s called a beret. You don’t necessarily need to be an artist to wear them, but I suppose it suits the image.”[/color]