Well, seems like someone won something. ‘Cause shortly after me and Delmar left the facility, (which was only a few minutes ago, mind you. Delmar definitely got the stare-down.) a pegasus guard caught up to us and handed me a folder full of bank information.
Why? Well, apparently, according to her, it was “inheritance money” from whatever my biological parents had. Also, child protection services. Though, strangely, they did say that they’re both still alive, so... Idunno. I’m not into the legal things and stuff like that.
Also, apparently at some point or another I signed myself into having Delmar as a legal guardian, so that happened.
Either way, it’s early morning now, I’m hungry, Delmar’s hungry, and neither of us want to have cardboard jerky again. So naturally, we’re gonna find someplace to eat.
And while we’re at it, I guess one of us is gonna have to find a way to earn some money. After all, the money I got isn’t gonna last long, and apparently the household appliance factory that my father owned shut down after he was arrested.
Hrm. Well, it’s definitely a food place, but I’d have to say that personally, it seems much more like someplace you’d eat dinner at, not breakfast. Especially considering how this is a soup place. But meh, it doesn’t really matter, anyways. Anything’s better than having to chew the crap in the pod.
Speaking of which, the actual thing is gonna be shipped to wherever it is that we end up living, so I guess I’ll message Ranell sometime later or something and tell him that we need time to settle down first before any sort of business can start.
Also, I completely forgot to tell anyone that I can open a portal just by sending a message into the pod’s system.
Anyways, enough with the rambling. Let’s see what this “The Soup Can” place has to offer.
*Overly generic doorbell ringing, because I don’t know how to describe it*
“Eh? New customers?” a gruff voice asked from behind the counter. The man it belonged to (and yes, by now I’m aware that there’s apparently humans here along with the ponies,) stepped out from behind the counter drying a pot. “Y’aller lost ‘r somethin’?”
“Nope.” I shook my head, “Just looking for a place to eat. I’m assuming you’re open?”
The guy paused for a moment, probably to stare at the now-obvious “closed” sign hanging in the window. “Eh,” he shrugged, “y’all can eat ‘ere if ya want. I ain’t all that busy anyhow.”
Hm. This place has pretty good chowder.
“How much do I owe you?” I asked, fishing a card from the bank folder.
“Nah, it’s free.” the man replied, “Name’s Stanley, by the way. I ‘eard of ya in the papers his mornin’.”
“Papers?” I asked, raising a brow.
Stanley shrugged. “Says here y’all were found alive after gettin’ tossed out years ago.”
Well, I can certainly say that news spreads rather quickly here.