Feelin' strange 'bout my rider, babe, I'm booked and I got to go

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

Who: Njoki + YOU + ??? = PROFIT
What: Slice of life stuff, mostly business about town.
Where: Mafaton, Sobek Croix, or in herbal/magic supply shops about town.
When:
Notes:Pick your poison and label your thread:
Option A: Call or come by her apartment. Does your character need some conjure done?
Option B: Njoki has set up an appointment to chat with Hellsing. Does she meet your character while waiting?
Option C: Ki doesn't have her own garden, so she's out and about to restock her supplies.

As much as fixing up Pickman's rotting feet was for her peace of mind (and sense of smell), the repair job also served as a brilliant bit of self-promotion. Word is slowly getting out that there's a rootworker who specializes in the dead, undead, and not entirely living living in Mafaton, up above a consignment store. The door up to the apartment she shares with Pickman has been marked out by a sign in the same style as her business card and a small, metal and glass tube nailed into the lintel.

Should anyone come to visit, phoning first is recommended, but the door is almost always unlocked. The staircase is a narrow, twisting affair leading up into a modestly sized livingroom with walls lined in shelves made from cinderblocks and wooden planks holding little glass bottles of different colours filled with herbs, roots, beads and bones, wooden boxes with paper envelopes and sachets of powers and washes, a whole collection of candles of different weights and sizes, and other objects of her trade. During the day, that the room is sparse, not yet fully lived in is highlighted by the airy open windows framed by blackout curtains, and during the evening the open windows manage to bring in a pleasant breeze.

Upon arriving in Baedal, Njoki was fortunate enough to have brought along her well-stocked hoodoo kit and after the sale of a portion of some of those items and her letter back home, she's now able to afford to go explore the local botanicas, herbalist, and certain dealers of (not quite) ill-repute. In between visits to various shops, she's made an appointment to stop by Hellsing and hear a little bit more about who they are, what they do, and what she can do for them. While their people seemed plenty pleasant at The Apache, she still doesn't trust them.

Comments

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

"I agree, a mentor can make a world of difference in any field." He shifts his box to his other arm. "When I discovered I was a mutant I did a lot of stumbling on my own. Finding someone who is not only a good teacher, but has the qualities to be an effective guide is quite rare. You're quite fortunate."

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

Njoki's expression is a bit surprised and should Charles be listening, her thought on the matter -- that he's a patronizing asshole -- likely comes across loud and clear.

"...mmhmm." A pause. It'll be better for her blood pressure if she leaves now, but curiosity always wins out. "Mutant?"

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

Charles doesn't tend to listen on another's thoughts without permission unless they are so strong that it cannot be avoided or safety is a concern. He doesn't need to read her mind to realize that he's said something wrong. Granted, he isn't sure what it was, but he does feel bad about it.

He nods at her question, hoping to maneuver the conversation a little. "There was a brief mention before, when we spoke about non-humans. I'm not sure what you know about the matter, but mutants are a species that evolved from humans. Though some of us may look human, we are not, as we have a different DNA structure. This change causes the mutant in question to gain extra ordinary abilities, though like anything it isn't without its consequences."

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"There's no such thing as a free lunch, eh?" It's said with a touch of irony, but without any real ill humour behind it. "Back home, there's all sorts of people that can pass for human but that aren't, but they're all well hidden. Are mutants -- your people, yeah? -- are they out of the closet?"

In Baedal, Njoki is willing to be open about being able to do conjure and heal the undead, more so than she would be at home, but she's still not going to own up to being anything more.

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

He pauses to consider her question and give it due thought. "Yes and no," he finally answers. "It's been a difficult issue. The world at large doesn't seem to know of our existence outside of the select circle any of us tell. There have been enough reactions of fear and hatred that it's understandable how some would want to keep to themselves."

"That's why I was so relieved to speak with you, Ms. Rainmaker. I apologize for sounding like a wide eyed tourist, but I've never seen a place as welcoming to non-humans of any variety. There is a long way to go to be sure, but Baedal is much different from the environment I know back home."

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"You can just call me Ki, please." Njoki knows that more often than not she's brusque edging into standoffish, but Xavier does have a valid point and coming from a world like that she can see the novelty. "I can appreciate how strange it must be. Back home, everyone that was Other, whatever the sort, yeah, it was all kept quiet, but we knew each other, had a society, could move around and get things done."

"And, if you want to come see Mafaton, above ground, not the Undercity, you're welcome to come call on me, okay?" Of course, the offer is made in advance of the recent troubles with cruorvores and may have to be put on hold until the city has restabilized.

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

"Ki then," he says with a nod. One of the great side effects of his mutation is that the correction isn't something he will forget, soon or ever.

"I'll certainly take you up on that invitation. "Thank you for your time, Ki." He gives her a nod of gratitude and departure, leaving to take his windowbox home and get out of her hair (for the moment).