Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-10-18 14:15:00 |
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‘Breakfast,’ to Ari, was a meal to be eaten within an hour or two of awakening, without regard to the time on the clock. This was why the idea of breakfast at one in the afternoon hardly fazed her as she made her way down the streets of the Commoners’ District with a bag of Ordalian coffee beans tucked under her arm -- her contribution to the meal she was soon to enjoy. She was lucky, she reflected, to have so many friends who could cook or bake. Takeout did get tiresome after some time, though never tiresome enough to have her reconsidering whether or not she should learn to cook herself. She had been to Jak’s flat once or twice, a tiny studio over a butcher shop (probably cause for a discount, with the way such an establishment could smell), though she supposed that to someone who had grown up with half a dozen siblings underfoot, such a flat was practically a palace. It would certainly be more tranquil than his family home, and really, a young artist had to start somewhere. He could have done far worse. She made her way up the stairs and knocked on the door. “Coffee delivery!” she called out in a cheerful voice. “‘S’Open!” Jak called in reply, not wanting to break away from the task at hand. The small kitchen area that took up the flat’s far corner was an almost chaotic array of dirty pots and pans, soft sizzles and heady aromas as the young dancer moved back and forth, seeing to one thing or another. “I hope you like bacon,” he called, glancing briefly over his shoulder, “Got a good deal on it downstairs, so we have…” Jak trailed off, momentarily distracted as he moved another helping of bacon from the frying pan onto an already overloaded plate. Quickly shifting the spatula to push a few errant pieces back onto the pile when they started to tumble, the young man frowned. “Well, we have a lot.” Upon entering the small flat, Ari had to appreciate the savory aroma emanating from the kitchen. When Jak mentioned its source, she grinned, her steps nearly dancing as she approached the kitchen to set down her bag and offer the young man a brief hug from the side. “Oh, bacon, how dreadful. I shall have to endeavor to destroy it immediately by putting it in my stomach.” She began pulling out the implements to grind and make coffee, making herself at home in the small kitchen, opening cabinets until she found what she needed for her task. “Frankly, if all we have is Ordalian coffee and an excess of bacon, I will run down the street for a loaf of bread and we will eat like royals. Or like royals would had they any sense.” The water set to boil, she leaned back against the counter and said, “Stop frowning, it spoils your pretty face. How are you, darling?” Scoffing quietly, Jak shook his head, "Ari, I'm a baker's boy. You don't need to worry about bread, I got two different kinds in. Eggs, too, and some nice mushrooms with a bit of garlic." Truth be told, the young man took a lot of pride in his ability to make breakfast. Growing up, it had fallen to each of the Rawles children to handle a meal for the family one day a week. Lunch had been right out, with the whole family scattered too far around the district for it to 'count'. And dinner for Jak had always been a disaster; he'd always get too distracted to remember to prepare anything ahead of time, and his sisters would always get too picky to actually like anything he did manage to make. Breakfast had been the easiest option, and Jak had set himself to perfecting it. "I'm alright," he replied with a smile, poking at some scrambled eggs tentatively, checking to see if they were done, "How about you?" “Spoiled royals, like I said.” She put the coffee together as he finished with the eggs, found mugs and sugar to set out on the table. “Everything smells delicious. Thank you for spoiling me.” Her part of the meal -- such as it was -- now fait accompli, she settled in a chair and poured coffee for herself as he asked his question. Her response was a heavy sigh, shoulders rising and falling with the drama of it, and a, “Well, I went on quite possibly the most disappointing vacation ever.” Jak didn’t know Aspel, or at least not well; she had to assume she could vent to him, at least, in vague detail without having to answer questions that were too pointed. “Everything that could possibly have gone wrong, did, up to and including a near-death emergency with no white mage in attendance. Now I intend to bury myself in work to make up for it.” "You almost died?!" Jak exclaimed, the shock of Ari's statement momentarily distracting him from his mushrooms. Wincing when he heard them start to sizzle just a bit too much, he turned back to the stove and briskly set to work rescuing them from the pan before they burned. Once that was done, he ferried them and the bacon over to the table in front of his guest, turning on his heels to fetch the eggs, calling over his shoulder as he went, "You're alright now though, right?" “Oh, not me,” Ari was quick to reassure. “I suppose I might have been injured, but the… friend with whom I was traveling has a way of commanding attention.” The way she said friend would probably tell Jak all he needed to know. “She took the brunt of it -- what fine luck, to have this remote town attacked by a massive monster exactly while we were visiting! -- else it might have slaughtered the villagers with their sad little pitchforks. She was in poor shape by the end of it, which is all the elaboration I will offer at present, as we’re about to eat.” No need to spoil his appetite with graphic details. Dhe began to serve herself as she continued the story. “The closest thing to a doctor in this town was me, mind you.” She wrinkled her nose. Really, anyone who depended on her for more than emergency care on the battlefield was bound to be disappointed. “To add insult to injury, instead of our rather nice room with its rather nice bed, we spent the night in the local wisewoman’s house, me in a chair because there was only one cot, and then were shaken all the way back to Emillion by the worst airship pilot in all of Ivalice, I am fairly certain.” "Was it a comfortable chair, at least?" Jak asked, trying to see the bright side of the situation as he brought the eggs over and set them down in front of Ari. "I've slept in a lot of chairs, some of them can be nice," he added after a moment, taking a seat across the table from his friend. The young boy quickly started in on the spread he'd laid out, tearing the end off one of the loaves he'd bought and helping himself to a few crispy rashers of bacon to go with it. "At least it sounds like an adventure," He offered before stuffing his mouth with a hastily made bacon sandwich. Just barely remembering his manners, he waited until he had swallowed before continuing, "I never get to have those. ...well, mostly." “It was a miserable chair,” she said with a positively martyr-like expression. “I like adventures, too, but mostly not the type when someone ends up with broken bones in the end. Especially when I go somewhere with plans that are pretty much the direct antithesis of fighting.” Eggs forgotten for a moment, she made her own open-faced sandwich and bit into it with relish. “This is delicious,” she told him, before hopping back to her original topic, “And as for adventures, if you really want one, I might know a sky captain who could use temporary crew, provided you’re not too picky on the work.” Bella ran her share of legal jobs, too -- most corsairs she knew did -- and while Ari knew that Jak was technically guild, that technicality was murky enough to her that she didn’t feel right recommending him for a heist. Collections or deliveries, now… “That shirtless corsair I told you about some time ago is nearly always out of town these days,” she added, “else I’d have introduced you by now. This other captain’s jobs tend to be a bit less wild, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing, considering all. You could get your feet wet, so to say.” And she could leave it up to Bella to decide whether she wanted the young man on a more permanent basis, and for what sorts of work. "I'm never picky about work, so long as it pays," Jak replied between mouthfuls of egg, then stopped, thinking it over, "...and so long as it's not hooking. Because I don't." He'd found himself having to watch what he'd said every since those rumours had popped up. "I managed to have a bit of an adventure here in the city, at least. Just a few days ago some shopkeeper managed to lose track of his stock. Cockatrices." The young man grinned, thinking back on the action and excitement, "Managed to nab a couple and make some gil off of it." Ari laughed and assured him, “No, Bella does not rent out her crew for such things, rest assured. You’ll work with your clothes on, darling. Are those rumors still bothering you?” She didn’t find them all that troubling, but then, the few times she had been accused of such early on in her career, she had simply laughed it off -- and, on one notable occasion, Confused her accoster and left him to bash into walls on his own. “I think it’s the burden of being an attractive person in the performing arts, if I am quite honest,” she mused. “I don’t know if it makes you feel better or worse -- but that tired old tale crops up about everyone sooner or later. Just ignore it and it will peter out on its own. And maybe be prepared to knee overzealous suitors in the balls as needed until it does.” Talk of his small adventure in the city had her shaking her head incredulously and saying, “I think those featherheads must have gotten everywhere; I helped a squire I know catch one, too. You chased down several? Just how many hours did you spend running after fat birds?” "Enough that I managed to nab myself two hundred gil, which isn't too bad." Jak replied, spearing another piece of bacon on the end of his fork as he shrugged, "There was more, but we split it. A couple of people helped me." "I figure the extra money will come in handy, with Bierfest coming up." He grinned across the table at Ari, already anticipating a hell of a time. “Ah,” Ari said, “planning on drunken debauchery, are you?” The festival was always a good time, for all that she was not a particular lover of beer. Such extraordinary levels of drunkenness usually led to amusement, if nothing else. “Any particular plans?” she asked eagerly. “Handsome plans, I hope for your sake.” "I'm just going to drink, dance, see what happens…" Jak shrugged, trying to feign innocence. "What about you? Anything special lined up?" “I’ll send properly lascivious thoughts in your direction,” Ari promised. “As for me, I’ll meet up with a few friends… and then, later, with a friend. Here is hoping nothing tries to kill us this time.” She winked and added, “If you’d like to send properly lascivious thoughts my way as well, it couldn’t hurt.” Laughing, the young dancer took another bite of his lunch and nodded, "I'll try my best, Ari." Jak grinned, not quite sure what 'lascivious' meant, but guessing well enough from her tone. |