I jumped into the little bathroom, showering while I heard the hair dryer going. I got out, shaved, then stood behind her to help her finish her hair....No, I got this. You do the chocolate!"I did exactly that, and when it was ready, I handed her a steamy, frothy mug. Her hair was in pigtails. I got to look at THAT picture while we sipped the sweet darkness and watched part of a TV show neither of us was particularly interested in. We finished our drinks a little before nine. The mugs went into. “OK,” thought Father Jim, “typical second-generation immigrant. Tries to keep up the religious traditions of the home country, but talks like a Sloane except when asserting her identity. Clearly done well for herself, been to uni.” But – Jim groaned inwardly – she wasn’t taking the hint.“Oh please, Father, I really need you to hear my confession, I… I…” Father Jim looked into her eyes for the first time – and there was that look of moral desperation he was used to seeing in some people. Some. Sister Luuise came with me thistime.The 'nobles' chasing Jeph were disturbing the villagers, (arrogantly)demanding they return the criminal that had escaped here. There was asmall armed guard led by a middle aged man with pale complexion, shortsandy blonde hair, and a bushy handlebar mustache and goatee combination.Though he commanded the guards anyone could clearly tell it was hisdaughter that issued the real orders. She was slim but pampered, loungingin a portable throne while her father. Still she had to admit she looked good in the iconic outfit of nerd lust. She and her friends had saved for months to go to Dragon-con. Unable to afford a hotel room in any of the 6 hotels hosting the convention in the 2 square blocks of downtown Atlanta taken over by 50,000 nerds every year. They had to resort to getting a cheap motel room within walking distance of a Marta station, and a weekend subway pass. The major advantage being avoiding the several hundred dollar a night inflated cost.