>>6342953After all, you're Kitten, the Bikini Maid.
She might be shy and awkward, but that's just part of her charm. Part of <span class="mu-i">your</span> charm. You don't know if it will work, but you might as well try embracing it and see if that will make those accursed eyes go away.
"Oops! Kitten let out her scary side, didn't she? Tehepero~!" You bop your self on the head and make a dopey face, winking at the patrons and letting your tongue loll out from the corner of your mouth. Your voice goes up a few pitches, cute and bubbly and far, far away from the Morrigan's frosty chill "Sorry if Kitten spooked you, dear customers. But Kitten promises, no more mean and nyasty people will be coming through those doors for the rest of the nyaight! Rawr~!"
With the dopey little roar, you bring your hands up like a pair of paws, batting at a non-existant ball of yarn with all the ferocity of a housecat that thinks it's found the enemy.
The silence hangs in the air for a moment, but the eyes soften.
The fear disperses.
And then, cracking the silence like a pane of glass, the adorably chubby nobleman who heads the 'Society for Appreciating the Cuteness of Kitten' downs his drink in a single gulp, slams the cup onto the table and declares with full certainty, "KITTEN'S THE CUTEST <span class="mu-i">AND</span> THE STRONGEST!"
===
With that, a sense of normalcy returns to the Maid Cafe. A simple <span class="mu-i">mending</span> repairs the broken windows. Vida retreats to her office with a very stiff drink in hand, while you and the other maids return to serving your dear patrons as if nothing happened. Well, some of your patrons as for you to doodle a little skull on their omelet rice, but thankfully that's the only change in how they treat you. That and a few looks of awe that you get from some of the aspiring wizards.
Though you do notice two things as the evening turns to night. Few of the patrons take their leave, and more and more patrons are directed in by your crew of skeletons. Patrons who look weary, frightened, and beaten down. Patrons who've never been to a maid cafe before, who are non-plussed by the cutesy demeanor of your fellow maids, smiling awkwardly and slowly forgetting their troubles.
A few whispers about you go around, you can see it in the looks people give you.
Those eyes, though, are not wary and fearful. They are the same eyes that looked to the Hero Paradis when he brought back the head of Sangre the Slaughterhouse to the village elder of Warblestown. Eyes of relief. Eyes of praise. Eyes that are happy to have found a someone strong to protect them.
Somehow, those eyes make you feel as light as a feather. Is this how your old companions felt, you wonder...?
<span class="mu-i">Past closing, no one wants to leave... and no one wants to make them go.</span> (Roll 1d100)
>Go talk with Vida, check in on how she's doing.>Go talk with the guardsmen, who've set up a barricade on this street.>Continue serving your dear patrons until the all clear is given.>Go check on the path home.>(Write In) 