With a sigh, she climbed onto the motorcycle - albiet awkardly in her skirt, and pulled on the helmet. It contrasted sharply with her flipflops and skirt. Cora had used to own a motorcycle, but it had been nowhere as lovely or as new as this one. Her old one had been an old metal clanker always a step away from the junkheap. With a roar, the motorcycle cleaped into action. Cora very nearly lost control out of sheer surprise, but she hung on and managed to steer the thing out of the garage and down the roads. There she was allowed more freedom, and if it was a bit uncomfortable riding in a skirt, so what? She let out a cry of energy and joy as the motorcycle sped along the roads almost flawlessly. She had the address memorized in her mind, and of course punctuality was always a well loved trait among others - but that didn't stop Cora from doing a couple of donuts on an abandoned road. Finally, her face flushed and laughing slightly, she came to the resturant and headed inside. You know that your wardrobe is bad when your best still gets you a snooty glare inside a resturant. Cora felt her face turn red and glanced down at her attire. Black tank top, black skirt, black sandals. "Can I help you, miss?" the waiter said. Her voice had a southern twang, and her hair looked desperately like it wanted to be wanted to be free of it's confining bun. "We don't seat children." Cora, extremely touchy about her age, might be excused for being blunt. "I'm an Umbrella employee." she told the woman. She knew that Umbrella must have some sway on civilians, being so huge, but she wasn't expecting this much. The woman turned ashen and her eyes very nearly popped out of her head. "An U-Umbrella E-employee?" Cora stared at the young woman, who looked like she wanted the ground to open up beneath her feet and send her plummeting into the core of the Earth. Of course, she had made a jab at Cora. And those rude glares. "Right. That's what I said. An Umbrella Employee. I'm meeting with a bunch of friends. From work. Can you please lead me to my table?" "Right! Of course!" the young woman stammered. "My name is Janice, and if you need anything at all during your stay here, I'd be pleased to send it to you." "I'll remember that." Cora said smugly with all the satisfaction of someone who has just one-upped a foe. "Now, can you please lead me to my table?" "Right! I'llÉ" without another intelligble word, the young woman pratically dashed away. Cora managed to follow her, but she couldn't keep the triumphant smile off her face. The table was full except for one or two seats when Cora got there. It was Ada who arrived last, muttering about traffic. The waitress dished out menus. Cora scanned past blase chicken and pasta entries. "Don't you have anything spicy?" she asked the waitress as the others ordered. "We uh, have our Spicy Pasta Platter Deluxe." The waitress said. "I'll take it. Oh, and a bottle of Tabasco Sause, please. If you have any." "But, uh, Miss É" the waitress floundered for a moment, before regaining a train of thought. "Right. Um, whatever you want. I'll go get it." "Thank you." Cora said sweetly. The waitress took the rest of the orders from the group and scrambled away, sweating profusely. This, of course, left them all to do the awkward small talk expected at these sort of gatherings. There wasn't much talk about pasts - that was to be expected. Reeve and Ada mentioned something about the FBI. Tweek remained silently. Scythe only said that Umbrella wasn't his first career. Cora shifted uncomfortably on her chair as the waitress arrived. She wasn't sure if she wanted to delve into her past. Angry and Srawny, Amelia, Copley É they were all things that weren't front and foremost in her mind anymore. After the various clinks of plates and drinks being settled down were silenced, the small talk started up again. Cora generously poured tabasco sauce on her spaghetti. "What's with the waitress?" Foxx asked. Cora tried to look innocent. There was a round of laughter. "What did you do to her?" Tweek asked, grinning. "Nothing!" Cora rose her hands defensively. "It, well, it was an accident!" "Accident my ass." Scythe said, but the subject of conversation shifted away from the awkward blemish and onto something even worse. "So, what did you do before you joined Umbrella?" "I was an assassin." Cora said in a matter of fact way. "No shit?" "I shit you not." "So you killed people for cash?" Cobra asked, eyeing Cora with what looked like distaste. Cora stared back defiantly. "I'm sorry." she said. "Was I supposed to let my family starve to death? Morals are cheap. They don't put food on the table. I'd be surprised if a goody - two - shoes lasted in Mexico for a week. Besides, you really think I wanted to become an assassin? I wanted to become a lawyer!" "Oh." Cobra said. Cora turned back to her pasta and gulped it down. The familiar tingling feeling that anyone who wasn't used to sticking dehydrated flame into her mouth would describe as ÔAhhh! My face is melting!' entered her face almost immiediately. She had used up the entire bottle of tabsasco sauce, she realized. Surprisingly - and possibly with the expensive champagne that they ordered - the group loosened up. Cora found herself speaking anamatedly to Ada about Amelia, and Ada didn't look bored. Tweek, Foxx, and Scythe were laughing over the story of Scythe blowing a man in half, and Cobra and Reeve were speaking in low voices. Suddenly, another man came up. His face was flushed from tailing the waitress, and his breath came in short pants. "Um, it appears that a late arrival has appeared for your party. That is alright?" "A late arrival?" Scythe's eyes were sharp. "Um, yes. That'd be me." The new arrival was fidgeting. "I was uh, sent here by an Irene Dinzali. I was uh, kicked off of Gamma Team because of her." anger showed in the thin man's face, but then he went back to being nervous. "Oh, so she sent you here?" Scythe's face promised words for Trainer Dinzali later. "Uh, yes. If it's any help, I'm a Tactics Specialist." Cora sighed. This was great, just great. The man was only digging his own grave. "Alright. Sit down." Scythe commanded. The rest of the group was looking at the Tactic Specialist with cold eyes. Anyone who was such an idiot couldn't be up to their calibre. "My name is Jonas Best." he offered. "His name is a blantant lie." Cora muttered. Ada gave a slight laugh. Best appeared to have heard this, his ears turned red. What did he expect? The guy wasn't going to have an easy time of it here.
