multiversallogs | She is touring the facilitiy

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.

Threaded | Flat

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.

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."

Early evening; Aspic.

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