Night 58: Angelina, Crepe with Orange and Ice-cream

The Late Night Diner is a part of Rhodes Island's canteen. That goes without saying – to whom had anyone ever heard of a diner in the boiler room?

As the name implies, it opens around midnight. There are only a handful of customers at a time.

Operators off their night shift could take an order and bring back to their quarters. Night owls could sit dining-in while leeching off the Diner's wi-fi. The Doctor would come for instant noodles from time to time.

Drinks are in the cooler. Anyone burdened by their own thoughts could take one and chug it down, anytime.

Menu? No such thing exists. What the Chef prepares is what you get. It all depends on his mood of the day.

Welcome to the Rhodes Island Late Night Diner. In here, you might even meet a familiar face or two.


Flying high, shifting between amber dunes and giant boulders, leaving behind the bothersome hot wind. Earrings clicked and clacked.

Flying high, lips aren't parched from even the fiercest sun and driest dust. The orange flavored balm lingered as the thoughts lingered in mind, like shining crystals reflecting the sun.

Flying high, the girl with brown hair cast a tiny shadow on the sand. At the far end of the staff dangled a string of large bundles, wrapped tight with tapes specially reserved for Messengers. Well-sealed and water-proof. Masterfully directing her Art, the girl flew full speed across the barren desert towards the ever-moving land ship.

"Hey, Angelina!" The operator on duty came to greet the messenger at once when he saw she landed on the deck with the grace of a feather. "Got lots of parcels to deliver I see!"

"Yep. They all came from nearby mobile cities and smaller settlements. Some are for operators onboard, while others need to be sent out again after stopping at Rhodes Island." Angelina said, and brushed off the sand on her coat. "Oh, you don't need to trouble yourself! I can carry them inside."

"Nah, all in a day's work." The operator said, then took the large packages hanging at the end of the staff, not before being staggered by the sheer weight of it. "Uff! It's heavy! I thought it's just letters inside by the way you handle them in air. Do you usually carry all these weight by yourself?"

"I have my Arts. That's why I said I can move them inside myself. Just leave them to me." Angelina said, untying the parcels. She then raised her staff, and all the heavy packages started floating in the air, including the one in the operator's hands. Feeling a heavy weight off his palms, the operator sighed with relief. He felt around his waist, and could feel a sharp pain coming from somewhere. Must have pulled a muscle, he thought, and he would be needing a massage at the Medical after the shift.

Every time a Catastrophe Messenger return to the Rhodes Island land ship, it would cause a small ruckus. No matter it was the most recent Catastrophe forecast or letters of family and friends from some far corner of the land, they are equally important to the operators and patients alike. Other than letters and information, Messengers would also carry some urgently requested supplies and even fresh food.

"Testing kits for Dr. Kal'tsit, new toys for the kids, and fresh monthly magazine for the public library..." From the moment she landed till the sky grew dark, the Vulpa girl worked, delivering each item and putting check marks on the item manifest, never stopping for a moment. Finally all the large parcels were nearly empty. "Scones for Mr. Kiff had been delivered to him, as well as the parts requested by Ms. Vulcan. Let me see here...it's just fresh fruit for the Diner left. What a long day~~" Angelina mused. She yawned and had a long stretch. Even though her legs were shaking from exhaustion and her feet were sore, whenever she saw the worrying faces become relaxed and smiles emerged once she handed out the delivery, she felt that it was all worth it.

Gonna have a bubble bath once I have the fruits delivered, she thought. It'd be nice if there's any chips left. Oh well, gotta watch my figure, gotta watch my figure. Can't always have deep fried stuff.

With her thoughts a ball of yarn, she pushed open the back door to the Diner's kitchen. "Boss, your fresh fruits are here! Sorry about the wait. I should've been here first, but there were just so many things to deliver today. My apologies..."

The Chef opened the bag handed to him. Thanks to the tightly sealed heat-proof box, even though it had been through a journey plus almost an entire day, all the fruit pieces were at their freshest. No matter it was strawberries, bunched bananas or blueberries in boxes, every fruit was intact.

"No worries. You just saved my business for tonight." The Chef smiled, and patted the young Messenger on the shoulder. He signed the delivery manifest. "Thank you for your hard work. How about I treat you some crepe since I got all the fresh fruit here?" He said.

The batter for crepe was made with whole fowlbeast egg, fresh cystbeast milk and cake flour mix. It was then poured into custom-made pans and fried till ready. Once the crepe base was cooled, the Chef squeezed on fresh whipped cream in the shape of a fan and placed on strawberry slices, banana slices, blueberries and all other types of fresh fruit. Topped with a line of chocolate sauce and a ball of ice-cream, the Chef wrapped the crepe skin around into a cone. The golden crepe skin cone with snowy white cream and fruit pieces of all colors, looking from afar it was beautiful and vibrant like a bouquet of fresh flowers.

The Chef added some extra orange slices, banana and strawberry slices according to Angelina's request. He also added some tangerine jam and used mango flavored ice-cream ball. When he passed the hefty plate to the young girl, she hesitated, and cast an inquiring look towards the Chef.

"Don't you worry." He said, gestured her to be calm. "The cream is half-fat only just for you ladies. And there's no sugar in the jam, the ice-cream is also half sugar. No need to worry your little head. Guilt-free."

"Whoa! You are truly a pro, boss!" Angelina grew content, and took a large bite off the crepe. Fluffy and sweet cream mixed with tangy crepe skin, combined with the sweet-and-sour of the orange and strawberry with juicy blueberry and cool ice-cream tagging along, it was as if a bouquet of flower blossomed in her mouth. But instead of color, each had a distinct, fresh flavor, and instantly made her leave the fatigue of the day's work behind. "Although eating sweets is rather unhealthy at night, but at least I won't feel as guilty!" She beamed.

"Really now, I don't understand why you kids want sweets but also insist on ingredients with reduced fat and sugar." The Chef said, wiping the fruit juice on the counter. "It's like diet cola - it always feels like something is missing."

"Ah, I need to watch my figure." Angelina pinched her waist. She had always been mindful of her bodily shape, but she was still anxious about it. "What if...ah..um...it was nothing..."

What if I brought a crepe with my favorite fruits and chocolate sauce to the Doctor, and get one also for myself; what if we sat, facing each other, on the opposite of the desk holding the bouquet-like crepe...my heart will be racing like a faun...

The Chef didn't ask, nor he said anything. Yet blushes had already crept upon the young girl's cheeks. She quickly finished the rest of the crepe, and using beauty sleep as an excuse, hurriedly left the Diner.

"Oh the young heart..."The Chef flipped the sign on the door to "open", and watched Angelina disappeared at the end of hall way with a smile of envy and resignation.