[Presumably the spirits have again picked up on Earth customs to perpetuate. Which is fine - kind of. Rosinante gets a little tired of the assumption everyone knows about these things already. New Year's Day is fairly universal, but having croissants hurled at him is absolutely not. He's consented to wearing a string of onions around his neck as some sort of attempt at appeasement, but apparently it does nothing but make him look like he's wearing a weird string of pearls.
He notices the sleeping man and intends to pass him by, but it's at that point that a troupe of spirits bounds out of the darkness with a platter. They leap onto the table, kicking bread in all directions - including toppling all those breadsticks - then vault off each other to fling the entire array of fresh pastries at Rosinante. Perhaps the onions just make him a target?
Raised arms don't quite shield himself, and although the bread bounces off and onto the ground, he's now decorated with bits of honey and almonds and sticky sugar syrup. Frustrated, he shoos them away, then heads to the table.]
No. No donuts, no jelly. I think those were sweet rolls, though. Have you seen a napkin?
there is no ocean, only fresh water and teeth
He notices the sleeping man and intends to pass him by, but it's at that point that a troupe of spirits bounds out of the darkness with a platter. They leap onto the table, kicking bread in all directions - including toppling all those breadsticks - then vault off each other to fling the entire array of fresh pastries at Rosinante. Perhaps the onions just make him a target?
Raised arms don't quite shield himself, and although the bread bounces off and onto the ground, he's now decorated with bits of honey and almonds and sticky sugar syrup. Frustrated, he shoos them away, then heads to the table.]
No. No donuts, no jelly. I think those were sweet rolls, though. Have you seen a napkin?