Flora was just as much of a boring smattering of unimpressive faces, the woman swaying a bit as she dismisses most of her surroundings. A grumble in her stomach, "Fuckin, shut up." she squeals rubbing the thing. Aincrad, and the beautiful feeling of being annoyed by human problems. Just like reality, she had a habit of forgetting about simple things like eating. Scanning signs, shapely icons that could use some serious design changes. Picking one out simply at happenstance, the first that alluded to food. Finding her way into a quaint building, a rattling bell making a man sporting gold glasse