CLXXVI. Italian Festa.

"Hello, Priscila. It's nice to see you here." Vanilla mocked, crossing her legs as she sat next to Q. The host left them and returned to the entrance.

"False name. Doesn't matter," Q coldly responded, without stopping to read the menu. She put out her cigarette box and lit a tobacco, hitting it deep and leaving a cloud of smoke dissipate. She passed them to Vanilla.

She picked one and lit it too, coughing as a newbie as she hit it. "I see you have class. This is the highest restaurant we have here in Merry Oaths, which isn't even much."

"A lady should spoil herself every once in a while," Q responded, focusing her grey eyes on the tobacco. "And I'm not paying, so…" She raised her hand to the waiter.

The man in a white shirt approached."May I take your order, little ladies?" He asked, left them a jar of lemonade, as well as a tray with garlic bread.