Impromptu Facade

Log Info

• Title: Impromptu Facade
• Emitter: Verna
• Characters: Aryia, Verna
• Place: Fernwood Pub
• Time: November 11th, 2021
• Summary: Verna seeks out Aryia for more advice once more, the mute mul'neissa having provided quite a numerous amount of insight for the Mourner the past while. Catching Aryia just waking up and getting breakfast, Verna asks how to conduct small talk, and mentions a list of things to speak of. Aryia disregards such list, and launches into a pretend conversation as food for two arrives. Asking numerous questions, Aryia gets Verna talking, which the Mourner becomes suspicious as to why she was doing this. Then, like a lantern being lit, a light goes off in Verna's head. Verna turns it around and asks Aryia some questions, who speak of her special other, and then she gives the Mourner some much needed encouragement.

The weather appears to be holding, in that it is not attempting to drown and/or bury all on land. For now.

Thus it is not likely shelter that Verna seeks as she enters the establishment, unless from the gust that ruffles her robes and follows her in before the door is shut. She does seek something or someone, it appears, as she pauses just inside (and out of the way ) of the entrance to pan her hood over the room.

The typical day in the establishment is in swing, the patrons slowly returning after a fiendish attack on the place some weeks ago. The front entrance was repaired, the window glass replaced, and the life had returned somewhat.

Coming down the stairs in perhaps the most candid that Verna has ever seen her, is a scarred mul'neissa woman in nothing more than a long sleeved shirt and baggy lounging pants. Her normally tied back hair is let down and is a bit bed tossed.

She yawns at the landing, stretches, and scratches her arm before she pads over barefoot into an empty booth. There's a soft whistle to catch a server's attention, her giving a few brief gestures to get something ordered.

Looks like the Mourner caught Aryia in her morning routine, despite whatever time of day it was.

Conscious and ambulatory is a promising start to any day or night when compared to the alternative. Verna's timing seems fortuitous (at least to Verna) and she approaches the booth before greeting, so as to avoid any need to raise her voice.

"Good day. You rested well, I presume?"

The routine was so ingrained in her mind, that Verna's approach is met with a singular silver piece in hand, followed by a rote gesture of, "Thanks."

Aryia looks up. She blinks thrice. And her face tinges red. Coin shoved away back into her pocket, she raises a hand in greeting and gives a small nod.

There's another gesture to the other side of the table, inviting Verna to join her. "... I never see you in here..." she comments, brushing down her hair as she fishes a silver ribbon out of her pocket. <Handspeech>

Verna did not intend to startle, and considers inquiring whether her timing is inconvenient. Yet there is the gesture of invitation, and she moves to take a seat on the opposing bench. "I oft frequent this establishment, or did so in the past. I have been rather occupied, as of late."

After a pause to settle, or simply to draw breath, she continues."Your server should be along momentarily. If it is not an imposition, I would welcome your assistance."

Aryia makes a little breathy 'ah' sound as the color returns to her features. She cocks her head to the side, raising a brow with a silent question as she ties her hair back and out of her face.

There may be a concern that Aryia's inquiry was not received, as Verna remains sitting and silent for several moments. In that time, she takes one of those moments to doff her hood, revealing an expression perhaps more pensive or perturbed than the norm.

"I am not terribly accustomed to casual conversation. Small talk. Spouting the breeze." She somewhat studied her vernacular, first, at least?

Lips purse. "I compiled a list of topics with which I am familiar... but I believe they may not be of great interest to most, or to her. Should we eat in silence? That is more effcient for consuming food, afterall."

Aryia was fairly certain Verna could pick up on the subtleties of Handspeech. Half of the conversation was expressions, after all. But her face softens at seeing the half-mul properly now.

She tilts her head to the other side at the request.

Now the tables were turned. The elf wasn't saying anything either, her just affixing Verna with that torch-lit gaze. A few moments of unease pass before-

The pugilist whistles, waving a hand to the same server, holds up a finger, then taps her curled fingers together."One more."

She turns to face Verna. "You don't need a list," the mul'neissa points out. "It's... hard for even me to do small talk. But talking with someone like that isn't so... rigid. It changes, it flows. That is... efficient. But the point is to spend time with the person, not... eat as efficiently as possible." <Handspeech>

Verna listens (as it were) and follows Aryia's explanation with a nod. She opens her mouth to start to speak, pauses, and reconsiders. Whether to be conscientious, or for her own benefit, she restarts her reply to provide it via gestures.

"I understand that purpose, but have not experienced it often. I am accustomed to routine, rote, structure. A spell is studied, practiced, repeated until memorized. When hungry, food is acquired and eaten. When a topic needs discussed, there is conversation to discuss it."

A pause and frown before she continues. "I know what I wish to accomplish, but I do not know how best to accomplish it."

Aryia gives a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping some. They both had the same problem. Though one was born from rigidity and discipline, the other was from lack of self-confidence and anxiety. She ponders, lips pursed. If there was only some way to show her how best to navigate the difficulties of-

Two plates are placed in front of them. Toasted bread, scrambled eggs, a side of bacon. Two cups of black tea. A small pitcher of milk, and a little bowl of sugar.

...

Let's play pretend then.

The mute closes her eyes and evokes an ancient memory. She sits up straighter, fixes her poise, and gestures as smoothly as she can as her lips move to speak nothing. "So, how was your day?" <Handspeech>

Verna recalls that Aryia had ordered another, though the intent may not have fully registered prior given her plea for aid. The change in posture is noted, as are the lip movements. Both draw some curiosity or confusion, if the brow lift is any indication. She does continue to sign, however; whether the cause is politeness or the fact that it slows her and requires more thought to her expression remains unknown. Possibly.

"The day went as expected, to now... though I remain concerned and ...agitated over a number of concerns. What of yours?"

Aryia gives a slightly concerned look at the mention of difficulties, but she sighs and shakes her head. Still her lips continue to move voicelessly, them matching up with the translation of whatever it is she's motioning about. "I see. It's more of the same things, isn't it? My day went well, I am working on a small tailoring project that should help keep me from having to replace my torn clothes every time I get into a fight."

The posture felt so strange, but right. The thought is barred from her head as she nibbles on some toast. She doesn't continue to 'speak' until she's finished. "And what is your expected day? What is a day like for Verna?" <Handspeech>

Verna acknowledges the mention of projects with a nod. "That is a wise venture; repairing clothing often can be tedius and expensive. I would say that it is best to avoid being attacked or involving in such, but that is unfortunately not always avoidable."

For better or worse, describing a typical day and/or this day does not require much forethought nor recollection. "The day began with morning preparations and prayers. I cleaned, arranged, and dressed three deceased: two for ceremonies today and the third to be retrieved by kin for a private ceremony. I had time enough for perhaps an hour of research before I travelled here."

Aryia gestures towards Verna's own late breakfast as she herself pours some milk into her tea, along with a spoon of sugar, and she slides both over to Verna's side of the table. "I don't think you've seen me in that kind of situation. I use my body to hit things really, really hard. Unfortunately, I don't have such luxuries if things get complicated."

She leans in some, affording a moment to sip at her warm tea. Lips resume moving voicelessly. "It sounds busy. Is every day like that for you when you aren't out doing things? What are morning preperations like?" <Handspeech>

"Understood," Verna notes on the matter of hitting things and avoiding the same, "though I am not a pugilist, obviously." A nod. "That is a typical day, though preparation of the deceased varies on the deceased. A lack thereof is not an unwelcome situation. There are also discussions with the kin of deceased to prepare arrangements per their request."

She pauses before answering the other inquiry. "Morning preparations are predominantly personal and communal housekeeping and hygiene. Tidying of one's vault, laundry, bathing. I expect the tasks not so different from others."

She pauses again, lips pursing. "May I ask what your interest is in my daily routine? It is not unwelcome, but I had sought your insight into conv-"

She halts mid-sign and it is likely that epiphany has struck.

As both Sage and Mourner, she could be expected to be both intelligent and wise, yes? Quite the example.

The mute is silent as Verna goes on and on, her crossing one leg over the other under the table as she nibbles on her eggs. She nods along, paying attention, filing away information for later.

As soon as it clicks for Verna, a small, silly little smile splays across Aryia's face. She winks, then sips at her tea. "And if its no different than others, what do you have for breakfast?" There it is. Right there. The food question. Her smile shifts to a smirk. "... The key is to ask questions, Verna. People like talking about themselves, weather they realize it or not."

Siiiiiiiiiiiiip. <Handspeech>

Verna simply eyes Aryia in silence for time, and not just to process her 'speech.' The food question does register, though the significance taken may not be what was unexpected. She retrieves an untouched utensil to avail herself a bite or three of the previously-untouched food.

With one hand free, and no concerns of sharing with her mouth full, she comments, "So it seems. Thank you." Her expression as she chews is thoughtful; possibly savoring the food, but more likely making mental notes of and/or processing the lesson. Afterwords, a sip of tea to wash it down. "My apologies for overlooking the food previously. I will not make that error in the future."

Aryia relaxes, sloughing off whatever ancient facade she was pretending to be as she eats more uncouthly: shoveling down eggs and chomping on toast. "You're very welcome!" she gestures back, ending with the snap of a finger "Don't worry about it, it's not a big deal. But, seriously, you don't need a list. Just find something, anything that someone talks about, and ask questions. You'll learn quite a lot about people from doing that." <Handspeech>

Verna nods and affirmative as she continues to eat. She may feel obliged or simply hungry; possibly both. "I do wish to learn more of others. In truth, I know few, and know quite little about those few." If she has an concerns or offense about the full-blood's dining habits, she does not admit to such.

Aryia tilts her head to the side, watching Verna for a few moments before wolfing down her bacon in just a few bites. "Then try it on me," she suggests in an effort to assuage such desires from the Mourner. <Handspeech>

Verna considers as she chews, putting her utensil down in the interim. She cannot ask of her day, as she was alrady informed. Nor can she inquire much of her past, as she is well aware that Aryia is still recovering that for herself. In a bit of irony, her voluntary test subject may be one she knows more about than most, perhaps any. She does finally determine a line of inquiry, however.

"How did you and your... " she hesitates to consider the most appropriate sign "...counterpart meet? What were the circumstances?"

Now that question pulled a soft smile to her lips. Aryia slides back into the corner where the bench meets the wall, and she mulls over her tea. "By chance. I was getting some tailoring supplies to start to try my hand at the craft. And I heard a scuffle in an alley. I saw Violet was getting mugged. So I broke some faces and made sure she was okay. After that we just... started spending more time together," she explains slowly, face tinting a hint red as she talks about her. <Handspeech>

Verna listens with some interest, and certainly notes the smile that forms. "So you rescued her. That is quite ... endearing, not to mention practical." Her lips purse at a thought. "The mighty hero, or heroine, who rescues one in distress is a common motif in many tales."

Aryia's face flushes further at the mention of it being endearing, her looking off to the side and rubbing her neck. "... well, um, I was just doing what anyone with my capabilities should do..."

Sip. "To be fair, she's saved me plenty of times." <Handspeech>

"I would expect that she found your presence welcome and comforting," Verna clarifies, "and not just for grand tales." A nod, then, at the reciprocal rescues and the implications. "You both travel or adventure together often, then? I am undecided whether to be envious or grateful that I am not in that situation."

Aryia's smile softens, her eyes turning downcast towards her cup. "... no, she doesn't adventure." She pauses for a moment, trying to pick out what words to use. "... I just mean that I've been in a tough spot a few times recently, and me being with her has helped me pull through. Not to mention all the times between the adventuring. Stories don't tell you about how much the heroes..."

She lets the hand trail off a bit, thinking something over. Then, just decides to admit it. "... cry." <Handspeech>

Verna is corrected and then considers the last note. "Stories do not always include every meal, nor detail bowel movements, but that does not imply that such things do not occur. There is no shame in tears of pain, and certainly not of joy." She has witnessed more than a few tears, nearly all of the former. "I am pleased for you both, and that you are such an aid to one another."

Aryia gives a small nod, her lifting her gaze up to the half-mul sitting across from her. A soft sigh leaves her, and she smiles. "Thank you."

It's a nice little moment of silence. Comfortable.

Then the table is struck by a flat hand. "So! Ask questions! Take chances! Make mistakes! Get messy!" Aryia exudes, grinning. "You got this!" <Handspeech>

-End Scene-