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N'Raha     Let it never be said that N'raha cannot appreciate the idea of a nice warm hearth in the winter. Nor that he can discount the need to be around people when you're feeling down. For either side of the equation. And thus he's sort of crashed at Inga's for a day to recover from the Minstrel's Tale.

    Though, this afternoon, the house smells of some scents you don't usually get in a medieval environment like Dun Realtei. Curry and chickpeas, to be precise. The catman found himself some pots, and pulled out some spare meaty things and, well. He's making lunch/dinner.
    Clad in a icy-blue apron and a floppy green hat, the dark haired young cat works at the pot, stirring occasionally, but mostly looking at his tomestone, reading something or other on the tablet. Hooray for magitek, when it's not being used to murder people.
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga's place was built with space for people to crash, hospitality being very important to the norsewoman. There's even a private bedroom currently unoccupied that used to be Eithne's. There's plenty more sleeping space around the hearth as well, if that were ever needed. One never knows.

As Inga can't read or opperate technology well, she's passing the time with her spinning wheel, twisting wool into yarn. The rhythm of the peddle and the spinning of the wheel are almost hynpnotic in their music. She can do this for hours at a time, her hands moving smoothly, mechanically, so used to doing it that she doesn't need to think about it. Her eyes are far off, her mind's eye open, simply watching the tapestry of the wyrd and images float in and out of her mind.

The curry smells good though, and threatens to pull her out of the trance-like state very soon.
N'Raha     Eventually, The spoon gets put back down, the lid gets clamped on the pot of curry, and Raha sliiiides it off the hot part of the stove and over to just keep warm. And it's going to stay that way for a bit, after all.

    Because the catman looks over to the wheel, and the witch behind it. a moment or two to take things in, and he shuffles over to pull up a chair an watch. His tail swishes a few times. "Never could get the handle on the Weaver's art. I think it was too fiddly, like proper magic."
Inga Freyjasdottir There's certainly a bit of magic it in as well. Inga can't help but radiate anima.

She blinks out of her trance and looks toward Raha, her lips turning up in a slightly smile. "It took me a little to get the hang of the spinning wheel--we only used a small spindle. This is much, much faster," she replies. "It was simply what we all had to do. All women learned to spin and to weave. It was the only way we would have clothing to wear," she explains. She lets herself space out again, just for a few moments. "You have whole guilds of people in your world, ja? I can see a great city in the desert..."
N'Raha     A smile from Raha at that last question and he nods. "Ul'dah. The great jewel of Thanalan. The deserts are where I was born, after all. Out in the scrub and the canyons. Wasn't the easiest life, but it was mine, until things broke." He rubs at his nose, and then takes off the apron, sitting in just that lovely red sweater of his. "And yeah. One of the guildmarms made this one for me." he holds up his arms to let her inspect the work. "Couldn't ever have been able to make this on my own, but I was able to gather up the bits needed to make it."
Inga Freyjasdottir "I have seen it, I think only once in person. It's so...dry. It's hard for me to imagine people thriving there," she explains.

The wheel slows. Inga's fingers guide the yarn to twist, then lets it go in order to inspect the work. "This is lovely work," she says, leaning in to admire the cables. "I do enjoy knitting. It's a bit like naalbinding, but...well, frankly better. I've made some sweaters as well, though I don't wear them as often as I should. I've made several for.....others," she says, pressing her lips together and looking back to her spinning wheel. She supposes she's done.

Inga inhales through her nose. "Oh...that smells good. Like spices from the east. Curry, isn't it?" she asks. She's been exposed to a good bit of food in the multiverse, even if what is available here is more of what she's used to.

Which is why she keeps a freezer stocked with frozen pizzas.
N'Raha     Raha shifts a bit, and nods. "Well, you were there for the time we got ambushed by the Amal'ja, so." He snickers. "And while we were interrogating the captured Tempered." A blink. "So yeah. Though you really didn't get to go see the city itself all the time."

    He nods. "So. You want a tour this weekend? I can show you around, meet the Blades. Can't promise meeting the Sultana though." A wink...
    "Oh! Yeah, it's a curry. I had some leftover marmot and raptor meat so..." He shrugs. "Stew it up, put it in the pot." A laugh. "HOnestly, I much prefer cooking stuff like this rather than the super fancy stuff. Less pressure this way, and if you don't make it exactly right... who's going to notice?"
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga thinks back, nodding. "Yes. That seems like a rather long time ago, doesn't it?" she muses.

She smiles then, nodding. "Yes, that would be interesting I think. I've been here for too long. I want....to go places. See more," she explains, reaching for her walking stick so she can head over to the table to eat. "Who are 'the Blades'?" she asks. She doesn't know who the Sultana is either, but she feels silly asking.

"There are those that would consider curry very fancy," she laughs. "In my world, wars were fought for spices such as those. They sold for a hefty price."
N'Raha     Raha shuffles over to the pots and starts spooning up dishes for the pair. Half of the bowl the chickpeas, the other half the meaty curry. "Oh. Brass Blades. Sort of the city guard or twon watch but... I don't trust them all that much. There's some shady crap going on over there, and it's just... eh. The rest of the city's just find though. The market's one of the biggest in Eorzea."
    He slides over the bowl to the table, and pulls out Inga's chair for her. "So. Yeah. Come ready to shop, maybe. Also dress for the weather."
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga nods, listening as she moves over to take a seat at the table. She'll let him serve, since he insisted. "There's some bread there in that box on the counter. Baked yesterday, but fresh enough," she says. Bread is good to dip in curry.

"I see...full of intrigue hmm?" Inga blinks then, frowning. "Dress for the weather?" she looks troubled by this. "How so?"
N'Raha     Ooooh. Bread. The catman goes to snag that, as well as the butter from the icebox. "Yeah, just... I'm with the Maelstrom out of Limsa Lominsa so there's a bit of mild animoisty there as well, but. I'm the Warrior of Light, so that smoothes a lot of things over."
    He grins, maybe a little hallowly, before sliding the last of the lunch to the table and taking a seat. "And I mean, it's hot. I can't obviously wear my sweater and stuff there, if you know what I mean."

    The curry itself is not overly spicy, with a hint of mustard and cardamom and... well. Something definately not Earth-based. Maybe it's the roast dino-meat? Which tastes a bit like weird chicken.
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga nods in understanding. "Ah, politics," she gatheres, and reaching for her food.

Inga purses her lips thoughtfully. "Yes, I do remember it was rather warm last I was in that area...I'll find a summer dress I suppose," she grumbles. There's not a whole lot of difference between what Inga wears in the winter and what she wears in the summer. "I'll certainly bring some money then, to go shopping. Get some of these spices for myself perhaps," she replies, taking a bite. She chews. "Interesting. Like chicken but...weirder?"

Inga shrugs. "So, tell me more about what is happening in your world right now. What's next for you and the Scions?"
N'Raha     "Well, yeah maybe. It's from a big lizardbird thing we've got out in the desert, so it maybe tastes like weird chicken. It's not gamey, but it's got a lot of funk to it. They eat weird, so you got to clean it well, and then cook the heck out of it. Which is why... the curry."
    The catman's smile wanes a little bit, as Inga asks about the Scions. "I'm just waiting for things to kick off again, to be honest. I..." He wilts and takes a bite of his curry. "I got to be honest, after so much war and fighting, it just doesn't feel like things are done, you know?
Inga Freyjasdottir With a shrug, Inga continues eating. She's had weirder and worse. It's really quite good. Just about anything is good curried.

Inga winces slightly, she didn't mean to bring up something he didn't much want to talk about. "Mmm...I understand. What is happening in my world causes no end of frustration. Despite all we've done it's still terrible," she sighs. "You have many forces against you, but...also many willing to help."
N'Raha     Those dark ears fluff up a little bit, and Raha smiles. That last buit helps. "Yeah, I suppose. That's one of the reasons I came back to the Multiverse, I suppose. The Watch was crucial before, and you all are going to be crucial again."
    He reaches over a hand to Inga, and smiles. "Thanks, by the way."
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga nods, her mouth thinning thoughtfully for a moment. She looks as though she wants to say something, but thinks better of it. "That is good. There will be more interesting times ahead," she says. Is that a prediction or just an educated guess?

Inga looks to the offered hand and takes it after a moment, her brow furrowed in confustion. "For what?"
N'Raha     Raha smiles, and squeezes. "For being a friend. For helping me get my feet here the first time." A breath, and he looks to Inga. "And you can just call me Raha, you know. Feels a little funny hearing my full name from a good friend."
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga smiles, blushing slightly with embarrasment. "Oh, I did not know I was doing it wrong..." she laughs. "Raha. Heh, you're already using my nickname," she informs him, but does not elaborate further!