Priya was typically very good at not leaving her home. It was a comfortable space and self-declared laboratory, and it tended to have everything she needed. Leaving meant not having access to this or that which was required in whatever she was working on at the time. Delving into her dossier of complicated experiments, would result in conversation too long-winded and too full of technical jargon to really hold the attention. Which was fine. Conversation was not Priya's strong suit, though she would gladly offer a list of which alchemical pursuits were.
It was to her great misfortune that her laboratory was currently leaking. The near-constant patter of rain on the roof was easy to ignore, but this was different. This was a single, loud droplet that occurred at precisely three-second intervals. Intervals she could keep time with in her head, and therefore, they were distracting.
She needed to leave. Immediately.
Even though the small leak had proposed no relevant danger, Priya pushed anything of value far from the source, and left a bucket to catch residual droppings. Then, she gathered up her things - things that were appropriate in public. Books, journals, quills, inks. She threw a cloak over her shoulder, gathered everything in her arms, and left the dreadful noise in the house by itself.
The alchemist did not particularly care for smoking oja, but the ojaria was close and if she ordered tea she could usually stay as she pleased.
She pushed back the hood of her cloak and shook out her hair when she entered. It did not take her long to notice that all the cushions had been claimed from the tables. Even less time to see that they'd all been commandeered by the sky pirate King's Navy. Circe was easy to recognize in all that gilded regalia.
Priya tried to keep a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a huff to herself, but it was hard to do in the relative quiet of the setting. She first found a place at the counter for her things, and then for herself.
"Milk tea, please," she requested, mussing around in her small purse for the proper coinage. Hardly tea at all - mostly goat's milk and honey, but it was sweet and it was warm and usually propelled her through long, chilly nights of studying. Coins would be left on the counter, and a particular tome pulled from the pile to be opened to the spot she'd left off.
It was to her great misfortune that her laboratory was currently leaking. The near-constant patter of rain on the roof was easy to ignore, but this was different. This was a single, loud droplet that occurred at precisely three-second intervals. Intervals she could keep time with in her head, and therefore, they were distracting.
She needed to leave. Immediately.
Even though the small leak had proposed no relevant danger, Priya pushed anything of value far from the source, and left a bucket to catch residual droppings. Then, she gathered up her things - things that were appropriate in public. Books, journals, quills, inks. She threw a cloak over her shoulder, gathered everything in her arms, and left the dreadful noise in the house by itself.
The alchemist did not particularly care for smoking oja, but the ojaria was close and if she ordered tea she could usually stay as she pleased.
She pushed back the hood of her cloak and shook out her hair when she entered. It did not take her long to notice that all the cushions had been claimed from the tables. Even less time to see that they'd all been commandeered by the sky pirate King's Navy. Circe was easy to recognize in all that gilded regalia.
Priya tried to keep a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a huff to herself, but it was hard to do in the relative quiet of the setting. She first found a place at the counter for her things, and then for herself.
"Milk tea, please," she requested, mussing around in her small purse for the proper coinage. Hardly tea at all - mostly goat's milk and honey, but it was sweet and it was warm and usually propelled her through long, chilly nights of studying. Coins would be left on the counter, and a particular tome pulled from the pile to be opened to the spot she'd left off.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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