Saturday, January 18th, 2025

There are two Erikas in Spellbound. They are each dressed for the evening's karaoke event and they have separated with one circling around so that they can approach from different directions. One of them, dressed as Agnetha and not concealed by a trench coat, has her copy of the phone and is texting Tank... both of them can see the texts and replies as the phone is quite literally cloned for the time being.

[TXT to Tank] Erika: Looking forward to seeing you. One of me will be sitting in the back at first. Want to meet up there?

After they have arrived and there's no sign of Tank, the other Erika texts.

[TXT to Tank] Erika: No sign of you. Performances are starting.

A short bit later, before standing and dropping her hat and coat, she sends another message.

[TXT to Tank] Erika: We're up. Sorry you're missing this!

Overcome with exhaustion from having worked all night and well past dawn, Tank's phone buzzes insistently, but not insistently enough to rouse him from his slumber.

There's a large gap of time between the last text and the next one...

[TXT to Tank] Erika: That felt awesome. I've gotten calls to the clinics. Boss doesn't know I'm two but it worked out I guess. Hopefully I won't be up to late. Won't be able to reply while with the patients.

After the clinic visits the Erikas return to their apartment and, after removing the costumes for fear of what merging with different clothing might do, recombined and get to bed at nearly midnight, unlikely to wake until well after sunrise.

Sunday, January 19th, 2025

Sunrise occurs around 7:56 am over the islands of Spellbound. Erika is still asleep from the excitement of the performance and then the work at both clinics. Sure, Michigan isn't nearly as cold as Norway but that doesn't prevent her from, even unconscious as she is, enjoying the warmth collected by her blankets though the night. Next to her bed, on a nightstand, her phone innocently rests waiting for a signal to make a sound to intrude on the blonde woman's sleep.

As light begins to break through, Tank slowly becomes aware of the fact that he is in bed. And it should be dark. It really should be dark. His eyes slowly open and he assesses the light, and glances at the clock. "Shiiiiit."

He rolls over and picks up his phone, and sees the texts from Erika. He smacks his forehead with his free hand. "Damnit, Foster. Please tell me you didn't blow this." He starts firing off a quick text. And as always, goes with complete honesty and transparency.

[TXT to Erika] Tank: I am so, so sorry! I took a nap so I'd have energy to watch you perform because my eyes are starting to bother me after last night, and I just woke up. I'm glad to hear that the performance was good, and I hate to have missed it.

Erika's phone buzzes with the incoming message. The sound apparently pierces the Norwegian's slumber but she tries to roll over to get more sleep. Unfortunately she is still not use to the ears which come back every night in her sleep and she pinches one of them with her pillow.

"Oj," she exclaims ("Ouch," in Norwegian) as she slaps wildly in the direction of her nightstand. She wears a mask over her eyes when she's sleeping so shes searching purely by touch. And there it is! She grabs her phone and pulls it under the blanket and only then lifts the mask off her eyes onto her forehead. She reads the message and smiles before swiping out a reply.

[TXT to Tank] Erika: I'm pretty sure someone was recording it. Maybe they'll be uploading it and you can watch it on YouTube?

[TXT to Tank] Erika: How will you make up for the disappointment?

[TXT to Erika] Tank: That's great, because I really did want to see it!

He stares at the screen for a moment, looking at Erika's message, and sighs. She knew that he had been up all night to finish, so why did she...

Ok, he was tired and his brain was slow. She was teasing. He breathes out and taps back a message.

[TXT to Erika] Tank: Next time I get a last minute costume request that doesn't have nearly enough time to be confident that I'll get it, I'll tell them no, sorry, I have a date with an awesome girl that I don't want to miss.

Erika smiles groggily, glad that her sleepy teasing didn't upset Tank because his response is clearly returning more of the same.

[TXT to Tank] Erika: Your costumes were wonderful and your getting them done in such a short time amazes me. So when's this date going to happen?

[TXT to Erika] Tank: I'm gonna be honest. I'm super well rested right now after all that sleep, and so if you want the best energy Tank can muster, and you're not busy, how about today? Is there a time that works for you?

[TXT to Tank] Erika: I'm off today. Let me get up and shower and breakfast then get back to you.

Erika, having basically promised it, get up and sets the phone down on her nightstand and heads to the shower to rinse off and wake up under the warm water.

[TXT to Erika] Tank: Sounds good to me. I'll be here.

It's not an insignificant amount of time that Erika is away from the phone. Thirty minutes can seem forever to a person even half watching their phone for a reply, but eventually there's the animated dots indicating that there is typing going on.

[TXT to Tank] Erika: Got grøt steaming in front of me. Before you ask, grøt is a Norwegian porridge. Mainly oatmeal but often times other grains mixed in. I brought a jar of my grandmother's blend with me. A little piece of home. So. I'm free today. What would you like to do an when?

[TXT to Erika] Tank: That sounds lovely! As far as today, have you ever been to the Dancing Eye Gallery? We could go and walk around and check out the art, and grab some food?

[TXT to Tank] Erika: I have. Once. But it's been nearly a year. I think I'd like to go again, plus isn't it likely to have been updated in the last eleven months? Grabbing a lunch together also sounds wonderful.

[TXT to Erika] Tank: Yeah, they rotate things in and out every season, I think, other than a few permanent exhibits? Anyway, definitely different since last year. You want to meet there around 11ish, and then we can figure out where to eat after we get done walking the gallery?

[TXT to Tank] Erika: That sounds lovely. See you then.

[TXT to Erika] Tank: Perfect, thanks! Looking forward to it. 😀

Tank peers at his phone and then tosses it back onto his bed and breathes out some air from his mouth. He glances around his apartment, and tries to decide what he should wear. Given the utter diversity of his wardrobe, it's quite a decision...

In her apartment, Erika smiles at the response on her phone and drops it onto the foot of her bed which she makes before removing the towel from her head and hanging it up and unwrapping the second one around her body and hanging it up. She then goes to her large wardrobe and tries to decide between jeans or something different. She decides on different and, dressed for the outing checks for any messages or emails that might be urgent. Happy to find none she heads out of the Fox Run apartments to catch the Ferry to Spellbound Island an hour before the appointed time.

She heads away from the Court of Portals to River Village, specifically to Fabricadabra. She stays there briefly and then leaves with a happy jaunt to her walk as she returns to the Court and, as she hasn't been rushing and even on Sunday there are crowds of tourists to navigate, arrives outside Dancing Eye Gallery a few minutes before 11am.

Roughly fifteen minutes before the appointed time, Tank is standing outside of the Dancing Eye Gallery. After having slept through what was technically not a date, but was a meeting, the normally punctual costumer was going to go out of his way to ensure that he is not late for the actual first date. He is wearing what is for Tank a fairly sedate, and almost normal outfit - a clean white t-shirt and tight fitting faded out jeans, with an olive colored jacket and relying upon pumpkin orange high tops as his splash of color.

He keeps his eyes open on the lookout for Erika, although occasionally he helps out someone who looks lost. Which gives Erika the chance to maybe sneak up on him if she wants.

Tank got there first and there is absolutely no way he can miss Erika's approach with him watching out for her. She's not trying to surprise him, but she is smiling broadly having seen him helping a tourist with directions during her approach. Today she's her natural blonde and there's no sign of her elfin ears at the time either. She is wearing a vibrant red sheath dress with short sleeves that reach to just above her elbows while leaving her shoulders bare and red suede kitten heels that add an additional inch or so to her height, while still less than Tank's, is much closer than normal. She is also carrying a small red purse, practically a clutch other than the long string that loops over her shoulder, in her left hand.

She doesn't seem bothered by the fact that many people take a second look at her - over the dress itself or, perhaps, questioning the lack of additional layers (but the approximately 50 degrees Fahrenheit temperature is pleasantly cool for the Norwegian blonde). When she notices Tank's gaze turning in her direction she waves with her right hand and only wobbles just a little bit (she's not frequently in heels by all appearances).

Tank only needs one look at Erika, but it is a lasting one as she makes her way over. His usually broad smile broadens even more, and there is a sparkle that reaches his eyes as he watches that brief wobble. Not something he is going to comment on, but it is noted, as if indication that she may have been inspired to try to impress him as well. Perhaps.

"Hey there." Tank reaches out for a hug in greeting. "You look amazing. I'm sorry I am such a shlub in comparison, but..." He cracks that grin and laughs. "I can't imagine ever looking like anything else in comparison to you, so I guess I'll just roll with it."

He offers his arm towards her, should she wish, and nods towards the gallery. "Shall we?"

She smiles and says, "First, there is a tradition in Norway I failed to follow the other day that I must rectify," as she reaches into her clutch.

"When visiting a home or at the end of a business transaction it is traditional to give a small gift," she explains as she pulls out a small cardboard box labeled with a stylized F that all employees can't help but recognize as belonging to Fabricadabra. "The home gift would be to the hostess normally, and I know your shop is not your home, but it is equivalent to my opinion so please accept this."

When Tank takes the box and opens it, he finds a simple metal pendant made to look like a square of worked stone with a strand of black leather looped though holes on each of the four corners. It can be worn as a choker, or a very short necklace, and the pendant itself is emblazoned with the Norse Rune "Tiwaz" which looks like a spear pointing upwards.

"It is the runic representation of the letter T and was named after the Norse god Tyr. I wanted to get you something simple but personal, I hope it is something you might want to wear," she explains softly. "It is a token of friendship and heartfelt thanks for the work you did on the costume for me."

For a moment it looked as if Tank would try to stay it was not necessary, but he quickly realizes that it would be offensive to do that. To Erika, it was necessary, Opening up the package, he lets out a small breath, not quite a full gasp, but one of consequence as he sees the pendant. "This is amazing," he murmurs, reaching in to take it out and examine it.

As Erika explains its purpose and symbolism, he nods, already moving to get it around his neck before she even expresses her hope that he would. "Thank you. It's great."

He manages to get the box into his pocket to free up his hands, and then -- his right hand vanishes!

With a laugh, he offers up his left arm to slip it through Erika's. "Alright, shall we go inside?" Fortunately, the museum has automatic doors, so he does not need to push his hand back out of his sleeve to get inside.

"Otherwise, we might go on a Tyr..."

Erika laughs as Tank Tyrs-up with his hand up his sleeve. "I am a Heathen, so you are aware but like most of us I have a sense of humor about it. The Gods would also after all," she explains as she takes the offered arm and allows Tank to let her lead her into the museum.

Commenting on the pendant, Erika says, "It looks good on you also," with the slightest hint of pride over picking a good gift for her friend being able to be heard in her voice.

"The Norse ones always had a way better sense of humor than the Greeks," answers Tank, reaching over to settle his de-Tyred hand on her arm for a moment before continuing onward, now even-handed.

As they cross the threshold and into sight of some of the displays, Tank glances down, not quite catching his eyes to the pendant, but instead turning his gaze over towards their arms, before looking up at Erika and giving her a radiant smile. "It does, for sure. Not the only, though." And then they head in, encountering first the giant white glittering tree. With various characters at the park hanging as ornaments, Tank is able to identify a couple that he had designed.

"But really, it is the actors who gave birth to the ideas, I just kind of helped them bring it to life."

Erika looks over the tree with an expression of wonder. "I missed this if it was here last time," she says, "But I was a bit distracted at the time."

She then turns her head to look at her companion before speaking again. "Without a costume, the best performance can fall flat, feel... out of place," Erika observes and then admonishes Tank with a friendly, "You shouldn't be... "she stops herself and sighs. "The magic won't help me with some words. The complicated ones. It would be marginalisere in Norwegian," she states.

If Tank looks up the word Google translate translates it to the, perhaps expected, English word 'marginalizing'.

Tank arches an eyebrow as he looks to Erika. "When were you here? It changes based around the seasons." he adds in answer to her question.

He listens to Erika's words, and he nods along with her. "Yeah, I mean, I get that. I hear it a lot, but you gotta understand, where I come from..." Tank sighs for a moment. It is not just about his general humility, of which he has in abundance. "Mama Foster would always tell me to never make the costumes look prettier than the performers. Because, she would say," His voice goes up a bit as he seems to be doing an impression of her. "Costumes don't sing or dance, and the audience comes to see singing and dancing. Don't let your art get in the way of the performers' art."

He looks back up to the tree. "That's why I said that what I do enhances what they do, but I'd never presume to..." He shrugs again. "It's just the way I am," he concludes with, somewhat apologetically.

Erika smiles. "Mama Foster sounds wise," she says as she nods, "Yeah, that's okay. I just didn't want you belittling your work. Naturally the performer should be the center of attention."

After a pause she says, "I think some would wilt if they weren't though, right?" with a smirk and a wink.

She then adds, with less of her customary energy, "It's almost a year since I was last here."

And then she glances at the pictures of the costumes even more, perhaps focusing on those from the Arena a bit more than the rest.

"Nah, it's not belittling it so much as...staying in my lane." Tank looks up at the tree, thinking. "Someday, you know, I'll be the main attraction of something, and at that point, yeah, it'll be about seeing my art, and the other artists will be supporting it." He shrugs. "But that is a ways away, you know, and I gotta work harder on my craft in order to get there."

Tank is not the most perceptive person out there. He often gets lost in his own thoughts, particularly when talking about his craft. So it is a testament to just how much he is focusing on Erika that she commands enough attention for him to detect that shift in her energy. And he knows right away that something happened. Something not great. If he was more of a gossip monger, he might have been familiar with the story.

"Hey." He gives her a bit of a gentle nudge with his elbow. "What's going on?"

Erika puts on a broad smile and shakes her head slightly.

She pats Tank's arm with her hand and says, "I did not have the most pleasant experience when I was here last February, Tank." She pauses there and it may have seemed that was all she was going to say but then she turns her attention from the tree to her costumer companion and continues. "Lets just say that some people don't think out their actions and assume a magical day of artificial romance enhancement will carry them through their actions."

There were a number of questions that sprung to Tank's mind, but he had the presence of mind not to ask them. Was it important? Probably not. Would she tell him if she wanted to? Absolutely. It didn't seem as if this was the time.

He nods, and gives her arm a little squeeze in the space where it rests between his arm and his body. "There should never be anything artificial about romance," he echoes quietly, his gaze upon the tree. "I'm just very glad that you decided to come back." He turns and looks at her, again, smiling. "I hope you find a way to replace the unpleasant with the pleasant, the bad with the good. You deserve that."

He falls quiet after the unexpectedly soft statements, and seems not to be in a hurry to rush Erika away from the tree. He just stands there, patiently waiting for her to decide to move forward.

Erika smiles again and says, "I have an ex who decided a surprise proposal in a public arena around Valentines Day was a good idea. He'd been unconsciously working on becoming an ex for a wile. I only went on the trip due to the amazing new amusement park that I was going to get to visit."

She sighs and adds, "I figured you deserved to know a bit. There's rumors about it even I've come to be aware of."

She then chuckles and says, "Enough doom and gloom, lets see what other things of beauty we can find to enjoy together here."

A frown breaks out on Tank's face, and he shakes his head. "See, a good guy would never really surprise her girl with something like that, in public, without having either a really good sense that she would like it and her answer, or a full on conversation first. That sucks. I'm sorry."

But as she continues, he first shrugs off needed to know, but nods to the lack of doom and gloom. "For sure. He's the one who lost out, and it sounds like it was just a nail in the coffin anyway. Good that you aren't letting him have any more impact on you!" He nods towards the hallway, and leads her off towards a room with a series of landscapes, mostly seascapes.

"Ja!" Erika replies to Tank's positivity with some of her own. And there's that smile that's usually on her features as they enter the room with the seascapes. Content to be in the moment, Erika hugs Tank's arm to her side and says, "I grew up in Bergen, which is the second biggest city in Norway and a coastal city," and then as an aside explains, "Which for Norway means it was flanked by seven mountains and nestled between two fjords, or fjorder as we say the plural in Norwegian."

She takes in the first of the pictures, quietly appreciating it for a few moments before speaking again, but she is continuing her previous train of thought by asking, "Where did Tank Foster grow up?"

As Tank moves along with Erika, he seems content to linger at her side, taking his time as he admires each of the images on canvas. "That sounds lovely. I've always been pining for the fjords." He cracks a bit of a grin, his voice having adopted something vaguely like a British accent.

"I grew up in New York. My mother runs a costume shop that services Broadway, so pretty much other than school, I grew up there, watching what she did, and that's why I am as passionate about costumes as I am." He looks sidelong at Erika. "Is there any particular reason you got into nursing, other than wanting to help people feel better?"

"Nursing was a natural progression for me in the family business," Erika begins her explanation. "See, my mother is a doctor, and my grandmother was a midwife before retiring. I actually went into broader medicine really since my mother is a..." she falters as her English fails her. She pulls out her phone and says, "Gynekolog," into a translation app in Norwegian which promptly (and loudly causing the blonde to wince slightly) to respond with "Gynecologist."

She smiles with a hint of embarrassment at the loudness of her phone's response and says, "Well then... I was also performing military service, so I became a field medic and transitioned to being a nurse practitioner when I rostered out."

A quick glance around by Tank confirms that there is not really anyone close by to hear the loud pronouncement from the translator. He sideeyes Erika again, grinning. "I can see how you might want to get into general practice, yeah." Oh, but there is clearly a joke or two that he is suppressing there.

Nodding along, Tank gives Erika another look over. "I can see it, the discipline now. I hadn't noticed." He laughs. "Must be hard to be with a cut-up like me, huh? Undisciplined, crazy, just...you know, fly by the seat of my pants." He pats the back of his pants. If Erika glances that way, she'll see something moving around inside. His tail, of course.

Erika, having been attempting a discrete look and thus noticing the tail motion, laughs loudly. "Being disciplined doesn't preclude having fun and, to be totally honest, two disciplined people together can lead to problems,' she explains with amusement still in her voice.

"That said, I hope that I don't seem overly... how is it said? Strait-laced?" she adds testing the idiom as she says it. She also gestures at the next piece of art. "I like the colors and composition of this one," she explains about the seascape which to some might seem dreary and cold but if one takes the beholder's background in mind...

"Yeah, I guess. They just kind of sit around, look at each other, and shrug when things are boring, amiright?" As Tank moves along, he does a bit more of a performance. He checks his watch, a non-existent item, and effects a deep formal accent. "Well the schedule says that we cannot begin to engage in fornication until 11pm, so I suppose we must sit here for the next eight and a half minutes." He looks at Erika seriously. "Although if you would like to get started on your part, that will make it easier once the time arrives, of course."

Then he just starts cracking up, nearly staggering over to the next painting. He nods as he looks at it. "For sure. I can see the details on the whitecaps there...and almost imagine the taste of the seafoam coming up."

As he moves along to the next, a brilliant sunset with a lighthouse in the corner. "No, not strait-laced at all. You seem like a ton of fun, and you can keep up with my insanity, so..." He pauses. "I can tone it down, though, if I am 'too much'."

Erika laughs again at Tank's impression of a strait-laced person and says, "We're not in Edwardian England, which is what that almost sounded like." though her laughter. She recovers fairly quickly though, and nods. "I've gotten the impression that some Americans equate cold and stark places to a lack of beauty. My home is not always cold and dark but for half the year we have an extremely long nighttime, so we have learned to appreciate beauty where it can be found."

"I'll let you know if you become 'too much' of course also," she says as she gazes at the lighthouse picture.

Tank giggles at that comparison. "I don't know, they just seem so stuffy!" He grins at her, and listens to her analysis of the imagery and shrugs. "Nighttime is very beautiful. In some ways, I think you see something's nature better in moonlight than in sunlight." He looks towards Erika, smiling. "I met you under the moonlight, don't forget."

Tank nods absently as he also stares at the lighthouse image. "I tend to think that you are just right," he says, speaking likely on the "too much" or "not enough" access. "And I'd never tell anyone they are too much. I hear that enough myself, and I don't buy it."

The next painting is row upon row of cornfields disappearing into the horizon.

"That you did, Tank," Erika replies with a smile, acknowledging his reminder of their meeting.

"I like sunsets like this," she comments on the lighthouse picture before moving on.

"I rarely find people to be too much, they are who they are. If you can't handle that then first, it's on you and second don't associate with them," she says as they approach the picture of the fields of corn.

"Almost reminds me of the barley fields you can go see a bit north of Bergen, my hometown," she says as she lets her eyes drink in the picture of the domesticated grass.

Tank lets out a long breath of air as he stares at the sunset. "Yes. They are rather...relaxing." He takes another breath and then nods towards Erika. "I find I am just who I am, and if people do not like it, you're right, they just move on."

The fields of Bergen. Tank looks back to the painting, and then looks to Erika, cracking a grin. "I don't think we're going to find any paintings that remind me of home in here, but you never know." He moves along to the last one in the room. A moon hanging over a lake surrounded by mountains, and the image of the moon sets in reverse in the middle of the lake. "You know, I'm reflecting on this one..."

"Perhaps someone has made a rendering of the High Line I have heard so much about? The rail like which was converted into a garden?" Erika suggests after the comment about paintings that might remind Tank of New York City.

And then they move onto another night view picture. She immediately chuckles at the reflecting joke and says, "I've always loved the fact that where ever on the planet you are the moon in the night sky is the same basic view as the people you've left at home." And then, while looking at the mountains and the reflection in the painted lake she says, "And before you ask, yes, I do love the song 'Somewhere Out There'," with a smile that suggests she did expect him to ask. "My mormor," and she pauses to insert a translation by saying, "Grandmother in English," only to transition back to the original thought by continuing it with, "She liked to play the movie frequently for my siblings and me."

"I don't know that the High Line is quite painting worthy just yet, but..." Tank grins as he shuffles along with Erika, and as he earns a chuckle at his joke, he listens to her far more personal comments. He slips his arm out from between hers and her side, and then uses it to wrap around her back, so he can rest it on her other side. Drawing her a bit closer, to nestle against his side, in a soft, side-armed hug.

"Yeah. It's a beautiful sentiment for people separated from their families. You miss home?" It was not so much a question as an entre to the conversation, if she wanted to go there.

Erika looks away from the painting towards her companion and smiles as she says, "Of course, I miss home and my family, I think it would be a sign of bad things of one sort or another if I did not." She pauses a moment and says, "But I'm not homesick either. It was harder when I was in Syria back in 2017. Couldn't just call or video conference whenever we wanted to connect. Regulations and all."

She looks back at the painting and its simulation of the cornstalks rustling in a slight breeze that the artist captured in the foreground and asks, "Do you miss New York?"

Tank slightly shakes his head at himself, forgetting again that Erika has spent far more time away from home than she has here, and under far less hospitable conditions. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Can always ring them up when you need from here." He looks at her, thinking again. "I'm not sure I would have had the strength to do that." Any of it, really.

"Sort of?" replies Tank as they head along into the next room, which features porcelain and pottery. "I mean, there's a ton of stuff going on here, just like New York, tons of cool places to eat, just like New York, and tons of new people to meet all the time, just like New York." He glances sidelong at Erika. "Only thing missing is the smell, and THAT we can do without."

He grins. "Have you ever been to New York? I've never been to Norway."

"I've never been in the city. Nearby layovers though, but I don't think they count," Erika begins her answer between appreciative noises made about the porcelain and pottery in the new room they have transitioned to. "My flight in after Christmas had me laying over at Newark, but I don't know that an airport would count and definitely the wrong one," she acknowledges.

"But before you pine for my missing Broadway, I did get to experience the West End theaters in London when I was there in 2012," she says without clarifying why she was there, unsure if Tank knows and not wanting to seem to be bragging.

"This collection is lovely, I wonder how much effort it took to gather it together?" she idly comments.

Tank gives a shrug. "Newark is, yeah, different city, different state, but I feel like the airport may as well be New York, you know? Best airport in the area." He continues to move along with Erika, his gaze drifting over the various works. He looks sidelong at her and nods when she mentions the West End. "Ah, yes, great stuff there. I was able to go out there briefly on a trip with my mom a few years back, and I loved it." Tank does not seem to have that register at all, not in the slightest, with regards to 2012.

Turning his head around as if he were counting the pieces, Tank nods. "A lot." he says, as if that were some sort of definitive quantity.

Erika nods accepting the answer. She also smiles happily; this is because she dropped hints about her past and Tank didn't immediately jump on them and investigate them, being a bit of an enigma for a time can have an appeal and she's sure he'll eventually ask. Is any of those facts apparent to her companion, likely not, and that's just fine also.

"That's lovely that you go on trips with your mother, Tank!" she says with sincere excitement which lasts as long as it takes to turn a corner and come face to face with another wonderous display that takes her breath away for a moment as she simply says, "Jøss."

"It's important to stay close to your family." Tank lets that sort of roll off his tongue, casually. "They'll always have your back, and are always worth being there. You gotta cherish the time you got before it goes away, y'know?" He looks sidelong at Erika again, watching her as she stares at the art with excitement.

Then he reaches out to take her hand again. "Hey, you want to go grab something to eat? We can swing back here later if you want...this doesn't have to be a 'see in one day' museum."

Erika smiles warmly at Tank as he takes her hand in his. She then squeezes it lightly and says, "Lunch sounds wonderful." Then, with a playfully mock-hurt tone of voice she says, "I promise I am keeping in touch with my family back home," and punctuates the comment with a grin and a wink.

Tank makes a face at Erika and shakes his head. "I never for a moment thought that you weren't." He gives her hand a squeeze, and then turns to head off with her, out of the museum. "You seem like someone who appreciates the value of that."

Once outside, Tank pauses to turn and look at Erika again. "Alright. So." He realizes that he still has her hand. "Where do you want to eat?"

"I feel like a sausage," Erika says and stops her thought at that point to laugh and squeeze Tank's hand.

Still laughing, she says, "Don't read into it though alright?" in an obviously playful tone of voice before continuing her previous thought. "How about Borgi's?" she suggests, explaining further by saying, "I know it won't be pølse i lompe after all," (yeah, she's dropping a Norwegian dish name unexplained,) "Not even traditional English bangers and mash, but it'll still be an authentic sausage and delicious, right?" She sounds unsure of the suggestion, obviously aware that not everyone is into sausages and unsure what Tank's opinion of the suggestion will be.

Tank does not even react to Erika's suggestion until she laughs, and then he shakes his head at that. "Nah, I wouldn't read anything into anything. You gotta come at me with like a billboard sign or something." He reaches up with his free hand to shield his eyes as if he were trying to peer off far into the distance.

He seems fine with the idea, nodding along as they head towards the sausage restaurant. "I can't say that I am a particular expert at sausages or the like, but hey, I like them in general, and I haven't had everything there, so I'll try your recommendation today."

He keeps glancing over at Erika as they walk. Either to check and make sure that her smile is still there, or perhaps just to see it.

Erika's smile doesn't fade, she's clearly enjoying this outing. "I'd be glad to help you with ordering lunch, Tank," she says as they head towards the portal for Mystic Mountain after leaving the gallery.

As the pair enter the pseudo-mountainous region of the park, Erika's hair color changes with a slow fade from her roots to the tips as the natural blonde color seem to bleach out to pure white except that on close inspection it is a soft white with hints of pale blue which evokes a similar look to the simulated mountain peaks depicted around the rides and other venues the pair are walking though. She manages the change so slowly that only someone paying close attention to her would notice.

As they approach the restaurant the screaming riders of the Alpine Escape is heard first before the oompa oompa of the music playing within begins to be felt viscerally and then finally heard. She says, "I hope you don't mind sauerkraut cause I'm definitely getting some with my sandwich and I've found that kissing after is best if both have partaken," as they approach the threshold.

Set up as it is for groups and fast turnover, Borgi's isn't a place for a true romantic meal. Occupied by comfortable rounded booths which are themselves surround by tables constructed from large barrels with thick epoxy tops that have a variety of coins, stamps, and other interesting odds and ends sealed within them. Displayed on the walls of the restaurant are various travel posters, mostly illustrating mountainous and snowy regions around the world.

Naturally, Erika directs Tank to a table located beneath a picture with stylized imagery of mountains and fjords of Norway with the national flag in the top right corner but no words at all. When a server approaches to take their order, Erika gives Tank a questioning look and then orders for them after his nod. She orders a pair of liverwurst sandwiches with a European brown mustard, pickled onions and Swiss cheese on rye bread, requesting them to be lightly toasted and served with pickles, wedged fries and a single side of sauerkraut with two forks for them to share. She lets Tank request his own beverage but orders a Bokkøl for herself, explaining that it is a strong Norwegian, dark lager with a sweet, complex flavor in case he wants to order one for himself or just take a taste of hers. After the server departs, she explains she got the one serving of the `kraut so that if he doesn't like it or want it there's nothing going to waste.

Following the companiable meal Tank walks Erika to the ferry explaining that he has to return to his shop. They exchange a parting kiss which gets a whoop response from a group of older teens, college freshmen based on the sweaters they wore, who were disembarking the ferry from the mainland. The kiss lingers longer than some people might feel appropriate for a public display of affection but after it Erika, who was the one to initiate and to end the kiss, gave Tank a broad grin.

As they parted company Erika called out, "Tank," to get his attention and, when he turned to look, she smiled again and held her hand up to her head in the universally understood 'call me' sign with an exaggerated wink for it to be visible though the crowd separating them.