multiversallogs | Oh, I can get in a game, don't have a dime.

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Oh, I can get in a game, don't have a dime.

Who: Njoki & an assortment of folks. Maybe you?
What: Stopping by the apartment in Mafaton
Where: We really need a snappy name for their place, don't we?
When: Veerdi, the second of Velldaren.
Notes: C'mon in. If you've questions, I'll be on AIM and plurk.

Njoki and Pickman's apartment is starting to look properly lived in. That odd, too open feeling of a new flat is slowly fading as Njoki puts up shelves, brings in fresh flowers, as Pickman's studio/attic fills with paint, and they've even got a guest in the spare room. She'd only briefly had the chance to meet West before getting called out on a long, messy, and rather more complicated than intended call, but he seemed like a reasonable enough man that she wasn't concerned about him staying.

While she may be one of the only undead specialized healers in town, it takes time for a business such as hers to get established and for a positive reputation to spread. It also takes time to find suitable suppliers for candles, doves, and the more esoteric items she needs, but even so, the shelves in the front room are filling with little, neatly labelled bottles of Florida water, bone meal, floor washes, and powders of all colours. The windows are usually open and the room itself smells faintly of citrus and drying herbs.

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West strategy to borrowing a place to sleep is to stay out of the way as much as possible. Since he is usually quiet, anyway, this means that he's left the bathroom and the spare room in the same condition they were in before he used them, and slipped out to go find breakfast and explore a bit, shortly before dawn. So, he gets a pre-dawn introduction to this particular neighborhood, and found this interesting enough that he's out until just before noon.

He makes his way back to the apartment, and knocks instead of letting himself back in.

"Hey, c'mon in, you don't need to knock." Njoki opens the door and motions for West to enter before turning and making her way back upstairs. "You doing okay out there?"

West didn't want to interrupt any customer, or his hosts, without having had a chance to meet one of them, but he doesn't offer that explanation. He steps inside and bows his head a little, instead of smiling.

"Good morning," he says, in a mild tone that suggests that maybe this is as close to smiling as he usually gets. "Yes. It's an interesting place. I've brought back some food, if there's a place I could store it...?"

Introductions? Those are supposed to happen?

"Sure. There's some space in the fridge." Since Pickman prefers his food a little riper than most, there's already a good deal of room in there and a dodgy icebox on the roof.

"I don't think we really got a chance to meet and greet, did we?" she says over her shoulder, making her way into the kitchen and checking that West can have a shelf all to himself.

West follows her into the kitchen and unloads the contents of a small grocery bag into the fridge, in an ordered fashion, but not overly so. Nothing fancy, just things to make quick sandwiches.

"We did not." He turns back to face her. "I also didn't have a chance to thank you for the room, on short notice."

"I'm Ki and it's no trouble. It's not great, but we've the space and you're a buddy of Pickman's, right?" Once his groceries are put away, she'll offer to shake hands. "You're welcome to eat whatever's in here, too. If I'm using it for work, like the bullock hearts, that'll be labelled."

"Ki. You can call me Herbert." He accepts the handshake, nothing especially noteworthy about it. He sounds as if he may be a little awkward, picking out the best words to come across favorably, but not quite so good with choosing his tone, but he doesn't shy away from a handshake.

"Yes, from college. He's changed a little." His eyebrows go up, and he might be joking about this being pretty damn obvious, but he's also not reacting badly to it, and trying to convey that. Because, really, he would just like to learn more. As much as he can. In fact, the hearts will make an excellent excuse to begin being curious.

"He mentioned your work. That's outside of my experience. What are they for?"

"Courage. I'm going to dry them out, grind them up, and use the powder for hands -- those are like little bags of things that support certain spells or intentions." Even though neither of them can actually see what she's pointing at, Njoki motions down the hallway, "When you came in, there's a couple nailed above the doorway. Keeps the riff-raff out."

"Is that an inherent property of the items placed together, or do you have an ability that causes them to have that effect?" A small pause, and he glances off but keeps his attention on her. "Is that often a problem, here? Or is it for the peace of mind of your clients?"

At some point in the middle of the afternoon, there's a firm knock on the door, and on the other side stands a mild looking Nord with his hands in his jean pockets and his portfolio and a newspaper tucked under one arm. He figured it was about time he paid a visit, and he's certainly got a few questions to ask (business and otherwise). Although he is just slightly distracted by new smells and the sense of other supernatural creatures in the area, so he may not be paying too much attention to when anyone answers the door.

Opening the door, Njoki looks pretty pleased to see Asbjørn and waves him in, "Hey, c'mon up. I'd just put the kettle on. You do tea?"

The stairway leading up into their flat is a bit narrow and twisted, but it serves its purpose and that it's defensible (like most things in Mafaton) speak to the type of people that prefer to live in the area.

He promptly snaps out of whatever daydream he was in when the door opens, replying with a bright, "Hei," and a friendly smile. Here he was thinking he might have to reintroduce himself.

He trots in, briefly looking around the stairway while answering, "Yes, tea is good, thank you."

Edited 2011-09-02 20:10 (UTC)

The flat is on the smaller side for Mafaton, with exceptionally large and bright windows which serve to brighten up and air out what could otherwise be an uncomfortable space.

"How've you been getting on? I saw your ad on the network."

"Yeah, business has been good. I pretty much drew until my hand wanted to fall off the first two weeks. Now I'm working at the shop and taking up a few shifts at a bar in Howl Barrow when they need the extra staff. Just to get the ball rolling." Nothing in life comes easy, after all, and he's willing to put the hours in.

"How about you?" It's asked out of genuine curiosity as well as polite chit-chat. Despite being able to hit the ground running at an easy pace, everything is still new.

On the way to the kitchen, Asbjørn can probably get a good look into the little front room and see that it's set up for conjure.

"Slow going, but I did some major repairs on a man and that sort of news should travel. I was lucky, I came in with my kit and was able to sell off some of the stranger things to set up here." Eventually, if and when business is good, she'll need to repurchase those herbs, but until then, a roof is better than a box of saffron.

He does see, and is a little curious about it all, wondering whether it's so vastly different from what any of his own few family members do. "That's good. I can't say I'm tapped into many local grapevines right now, but if it comes up, I'll be sure to pass on word myself."

Which segues rather nicely onto one of the reasons why he came. "And speaking of grapevines... I've been apartment hunting in the area but, uh. I've been wondering if there are any local territory issues I need to be careful of?" It's something that's been worrying at him a little. "It's not really in my nature, but well. A few others got the wrong idea about me in the past."

Blink arrives unexpectedly and accidentally. She's been exploring the limits of her power, within the city. Her control is still sound; between Dark Beast and training with Creed, her teleportation is both powerful and finely-tuned. The problem is that she's still learning the geography of the city, and she's probably pushing herself a bit fast.

She appears with a onomatopoeic "BLINK" in one of the open windows. Abruptly falling, she tucks and rolls, and manages to avoid running into any furniture or displays. She's not hurt and nothing's broken, but she immediately finds her feet and says, "Sorry - I'm sorry," before she even sees if anyone's in the room.

Njoki lets out a snappish bark of surprise before putting down the cedar bark she'd been twisting into fine rope.

"...usually the door's easier. You okay?" The apology must have done its work since she sounds more wary than actively upset. "You new into the city or just stopping by?"

"New. I didn't mean to - I was testing something, and it went a little wrong. I didn't mean to barge in this way." Clarice's hand goes back to her quiver, making sure everything is intact and in place.

"I guess not. You need, shit, I don't know, tea or something?" Is this stranger going to vanish or explode on her floors? (Please do not explode, Njoki just washed up.)

Looking a little abashed, she says, "Tea would be nice. I can buy something, if you're inconvenienced." She doesn't know what she might need, but she did barge in and give everyone a start.

Mafaton by day puts Alan in mind of an empty courtroom, the stillness that's somehow expectant, that comes of the suspension of activity rather than its absence. Of course, the streets aren't entirely devoid of life (a word that's a bit more elastic in Baedal than it was in Boston), and he covers the distance from the El to Ki's apartment at a leisurely pace, stopping every so often for a look into a shop window.

He's dressed, as ever, in a suit; today his tie is pink.

Tragically, Njoki doesn't have any of her dress clothes with her in Baedal and has been focusing on replacing equipment over appearance. (But soon, soon, she will get something a bit better than jeans and button-downs.)

It's not just that it's daytime in Mafaton, but with the unrest, many people have either literally and metaphorically gone to ground. Njoki has been busy setting up wards, protection items, and repairing a surprising number of holy water burns. The door to her apartment/office is locked and Alan is welcome to ring the bell and she'll come down to let him in with a smile.

And ring the bell Alan does (locked door or no, he's not about to barge in unannounced). As he waits he surveys what he can see of the building without resorting to too much in the way of bodily contortion, the inspection inquisitive rather than restless.

The ground floor is a little fashion and accessory boutique that specializes in period garb. From the window display, they are quite accurate and are only open during the evenings.

As Njoki opens the door, she smiles to see him and motions to enter: "C'mon in, how are you? No problems getting here?"

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Oh, I can get in a game, don't have a dime.

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