The splitting of the atom collided with her as soon as he'd pointed to what he desired from the under talented cook--not the blast of a recognition, no, she was far too unchained for that, though not untethered--he did not haunt her with the burnt frame of a memory just yet, rather the swallowing lick of the nuclear fire spelt that he couldn't hear. Or could he? It was now a fun little game to wile away the dull moments she had remaining here, to find out of this were so. The puppet finished its scene, she looked down at him purposefully, reaching to her mouth with an index and fore as if to swipe away an uncomfortable amount of cherry chapstick, or to appear shy, and said quietly, walled by her bones. "Barbecued ribs, coming right up." And finished smudging off the corner of her mouth.
She fled with an almost innocent finesse after she'd jotted down his actual order, which she would not confuse just in case he wasn't what she suspected him to be. The noose looped her over to the cooks station where she slapped the bell, clipped his order, and tilted her head just so in case he was trying to read her lips from a distance. "Grilled cheese."
"So, Mo!" The dog barked, as Mo took a seat with her back to the patron she'd fill the coffee cup of in a moment. "How about school? You go to school?"