She is touring the facilitiy

[ironshodboots]

Who: Nazca and YOU!

What: A random day of temple visits, shopping, and job hunting.

Where: Around, probably mainly in the Aspic-Griss Twist vicinity

When: All day Coardi (say time of day if it matters in your tag)

Notes: Open to new or old acquaintances.

Warnings: None so far

It's now been long enough that Nazca has decided, however she got to Baedal, she's unlikely to be leaving it any time soon. As such, she is going to need a source of income, possibly a patron deity, and definitely some allies. She's been more or less shopping for all three.

She's never had to do anything like a job application before, so she's mainly wandering about and keeping her ears open. But she learns fast, and she's willing to take either honest or dishonest work as it finds her. She will also pay a respectful visit to the temple - she's kept up the practice of small offerings to all the gods for now, until she chooses one - and will likely end the day buying some food for supper.

It's a strange life, and she's restless in it, but it isn't all bad. Considering how she came, it could be much, much worse.

Comments

Early evening; Aspic.

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

In the early evening, Boromir is in the Aspic bazaar buying small necessities from a few reliable vendors who are already beginning to know him as a return customer. He has decided he prefers a market atmosphere to a shop, despite having little familiarity with either before his arrival.

One stall in particular sells a variety of fruit and nuts, and Boromir is particularly fond of their dates. The vendor is trying to capture his interest with a strange looking fruit that has red skin and green hairs when someone walking by bumps into a barrel of apples, sending several tumbling. He crouches to help pick them up while the vendor shouts at the passer-by who is already too far away to hear his chiding.

[ironshodboots]

Nazca has had a quiet, if productive day, and she hasn't decided what she wants to eat yet. As such, she's wandering the bazaar without any particular aim in mind, and while she's not normally a helpful person, she likes order. When the apples roll off, she helps to pick them up too (and palms a small one, mainly to prove to herself she still can).

"No harm done?" she asks Boromir and the vendor, generally.

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"Nothing a quick polish won't solve," Boromir says, absent-mindedly. He's too busy focusing on picking up the apples nearest to him to notice Nazca's minor theft (although she is good to begin with, so).

The vendor for his part seems grateful for their help, although he still seems to be fussing away at people's rudeness.

With the apples back in the barrel, Boromir regards Nazca thoughtfully. "You look...familiar. As though I've seen you in passing."

[ironshodboots]

"Possible," she says, considering his face. "I'm Nazca Barsavi, and unless you happen to be Vadran, it's almost certain that we'd not have met before here."

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

He shakes his head. "I'm from a country named Gondor, and as far as I know, I'm the only person from my world in Baedel. Perhaps I've seen you around the Valhalla Inn, or Mog Hill? I lived there like most arrivals until recently."

[ironshodboots]

"I've been about the Inn," she assents. "Depending on when you came, I was with the expedition that tried to leave by boat, some weeks ago."

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"No, I never knew there was an expedition by boat. I'm going to hazard a guess that it was unsuccessful." What with the word 'tried' and the fact she's still here.

It bears noting that once the ruckus was over, the vendor began packing Boromir's assorted goods into a paper bag, and he is now ready for monetary transactions. Boromir turns away to pay the man, before turning back to say, "But if you've been about the Inn, that explains things. I have a decent memory for faces."

[ironshodboots]

She smiles a bit. "I've seen you," she confesses, "but I am reasonably certain we've not formally met." Nazca's own memory for faces is, it should be noted, excellent.

"So, how have you been occupying yourself in our new, fair city?"

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"Then lets change that: I'm Boromir." He gives his spare hand to shake because it seems to be the de facto gesture around here. His more familiar forms of greeting had been given up after about a week living in the city, since Baedel didn't lend itself to the formalities of Middle Earth.

"Killing those odd creatures -the ones from a few weeks ago, not the recent ones." ...you need to specify these things, sometimes. "I was fortunate to be offered work as a result."

[ironshodboots]

She clasps his hand, rather than shaking it, the gesture more familiar with her.

"You mean the birds and the others around then. I see." She'd killed her share, but she's not a soldier as Boromir so clearly is. She wouldn't want to do that indefinitely.

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"Yes, well. It's familiar territory for me." After all, he is very clearly a soldier. He realises most people guess it from his bearing and the fact that he's armed at all times. On other occasions, his Hellsing badge might also hint at his choice of occupation, but since he's not on duty, he's not wearing it.

[ironshodboots]

Nazca smiles a little. "Hopefully somewhat pleasant, in its way? It's always good to enjoy something you are also skilled at doing."

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"Yes, I suppose." It is good but very, very different. He's trying not to let the changes in circumstance bother him. "Are you finding similar luck?"

[aintwoundright.livejournal.com]

He's on a sidewalk, studying a few storefronts. Still trying to get his bearings in this city, learn where things are both on their own and in relation to other things. This side street has a small restaurant, probably family-owned like all the other tiny businesses in residence here.

He steps back, head cocked as his eyes sweep up to the second stories above; a moment later his heightened senses (he's not really trying to use any powers, this is just force of habit) tell him he's stepped into someone's path.

He looks down, and offers a faint half-sheepish smile. "Sorry."

[ironshodboots]

She had stopped before running into him, but now observes him with a faint half smile. She can't tell much about him right off, other than that he's certainly preoccupied.

"I'm not used to people apologizing in a city this large. Most just block traffic as they please."

[aintwoundright.livejournal.com]

He nods--sort of, it's more a lowering of his head, his gaze lifting to hold hers. "I'm trying to be better," he offers by way of explanation. Better than he had been, but he needn't go into those details.

"Anyway--I'm sorry. I was so busy trying to navigate I wasn't paying attention."

[ironshodboots]

Nazca's smile grows a little, though it's wry. "No harm done. After the attacking animals and the giant ants, I think I can handle almost bumping into someone."

[aintwoundright.livejournal.com]

He huffs out a breath, almost a laugh. And then he offers a hand--it's the polite thing to do.

"I'm Gabriel."

[ironshodboots]

"Nazca," she supplies. It's more of a clasp than a shake, but she's picked up the custom well enough. "Anything particularly interesting up there?"

[aintwoundright.livejournal.com]

"Hello, Nazca."

He glances up again, shoulders popping up just slightly, half a shrug. "Not that I can see. I'm trying to figure out landmarks. I'd recently moved back to the city where I grew up. I knew the place like the back of my hand. So coming here and having to start over is confusing."

[ironshodboots]

She smiles, a little wry, but not unkind. "I can understand that. I lived in the same city most of my life, and I had it well-mapped." She's working on Baedal, but it's large, and she's not done yet.

[aintwoundright.livejournal.com]

His smile grows, just a few degrees; he's relaxing, in that way people do when they realize, hey, conversation is not so bad, it's working out all right.

"It's a big adjustment. I'm doing all right with the areas around where I work and where I live but the rest needs work."

[ironshodboots]

"You got yourself work then? I've been considering it, but I'm a bit wary of the process." Getting a job at a job office is something far from her realm of her experience and she's a bit skeptical; on the other hand, she could use some more coin and being a cut-purse would get old quickly.

[aintwoundright.livejournal.com]

"I did. I didn't use the employment offices." He shrugs. "I was lucky. I have a specialized set of skills and there was an employer near the inn who needed someone with those skills. It worked out."

[ironshodboots]

"May I ask what sort of skills," she asks, to all appearances politely curious.