wanderer x wanderer [Sol/Miciah]

"You've had one before? You naughty dog. It's okay, though; I've had a few friends with a bit of lustful indulgence. Couldn't be me, though."

Once the idea was cemented, Micaiah went over to the bossman and got her kuftka to-go. She tossed it into the air, it turned into a card, and gradually vanished into her gourd in similar fashion to the rug. Micaiah walked over to the man and grabbed his hand to guide him.

"Have you been here before? This bazaar, I mean; it's been here for a couple decades, so some places are pretty well-cemented. It well predates the Soan rule, I don't know if you heard of him before--bit of a wacko, if you ask me. Anyways, it's got a bit of a history."

Along the walk towards the spot, Micaiah pointed out towards all the little details of the bazaar that she found interesting or significant. The statue in the middle, commemorating an Iramasha of the Sands which once defended the region from a potential takeover from Shadow Fall. One of the benches had two names carved in it, star-crossed lovers that swore to reunite there and start their own shoppe together, but they never reunited. A tree the hung over an area, where its leaves stayed lavender and beige, blooming all year round, and the species only grows locally for some reason.

"And here we are, the cafe I was talking about. We gotta wait a bit in line, but I know the owner, so I'm sure it won't be too long."

If Sol looked at the logo and name on the podium that stood where the line began, he might recognise a script underneath, "Theirs but to do or die."

"Oh, no, not really, the food is alright. The tea and coffee is really good, but it's most popular for a few other things--you'll see."

Micaiah went on her toes to peek over the line, looking to make eye-contact with a server or employee. Once it was a success, she raised her hand to beckon them over, and once she knew that she was given attention, she stood back normally and turned to her companion.

"Native? Oh, no not even close! No, I come from the uh, well I guess they call it Solomon Sovereignty now. It's a few islands in the Pacific, northeast of Australia. But culturally, I probably identify more with the Vicara Planes. It's a country in demon world, where I spent a lot of my time as a fully independent woman. I'm just the same, mostly passing through here, but I like to take my time in going around places, you know? Enjoy the tulips, or whatever the phrase is. Move too fast and you'll miss what life could offer you!"

By the time she finished talking, the server reached Micaiah's spot in the line and greeted her. He asked them to follow along, and guided the two inside. Micaiah, still holding his hand, pulled along. When the people in line made a groaning noise of protest, she turned back to stick her tongue out before walking inside.

The doorway was a bit small, such that the man would have to duck to enter. Inside, the ceiling still hung a bit low, but enough that you could stand up straight without fear of hitting anything. The walls were decorated with a variety of colours and golden accents. The tables sat a fair bit low, and smoke was thick in the air, such that despite the strong lamps hanging from the ceiling, the place still felt a tad dim. The windows were clear enough to see the people outside, and each seating was more like a sofa.

Micaiah sat down and showed two fingers to the server. As if it were some sort of code, he nodded in understanding, left a menu on the table, and went on his way.

"See? What I tell you? I got the connects, hehehe~."

Micaiah was listening, but her eyes scanned the menu intentfully. Ordering food was some serious business, after all. The decision was easy to make once she recalled that the meal wasn't come from her pockets, and that fact lit her face up. It was just a wide smile that made her eyes squint, but the glee practically radiated out from her.

"I feel ya, it's the same for me. Back in the Vicara Planes, there were a lot of bars to fight in, and I got into a whole load of tussles from it. I got into these scuffles so often that they even started calling me 'The North God' cause of it!" Micaiah neglected to mention that she was a large motivator in the epithet gaining publicity, and that pub brawls were not the reason for it. "Didn't get down and dirty in these sort of lounges, though; people are chill here, myself included, and for good reason. Oh, here it comes."

The server from before came along with two hookahs and a bag of a thinly rolled dark substance.

"Hard to get into fights when you have something like this. Shukran, habibi. Oh, and I'm ready to order now; I'll have this."

Micaiah pointed to the most expensive dish on the menu with one hand, a pudding dish with gold flakes and champagne grapes, and passed the hookah and 'stuff' to her companion with her other hand.

Steel cage, shady people, and being paid for it? Micaiah liked to get rough, but chains and whips weren't her preference. She wouldn't judge, though. Well, that's not true, she definitely judged him for it, but Micaiah had to commend a guy for being so open about his experiences.

"Ohoo~, seems like you already know what the good stuff is~. Don't go to fast, now, this stuff is stroooooooong."

The girl put the hookah and hashish to work. Once set up, she waited for the stuff to acquaint itself with the heat and settle in. The server went on his merry way with orders in mind.

"Kick back on Earth? Where're you coming from then?"

The heat was appropriate, and Micaiah took her first puff. She let the smoke sit in her mouth a bit, cool, and channel down her throat to fill her lungs. Her whole body relaxed, and her posture sunk into the seating to really let the hashish spread out. She exhaled with nowhere near the same gusto as she breathed in, instead calm about it. It was the 25th century; this kind of stuff hit hard and hit fast nowadays. Only a moments notice, and the chair became a large teddy bear enveloping her body. It was one of the few things that could let Micaiah settle herself in so deeply that her native accent came through.

"Vastime, Dat where you from? See, I never gon' seen der', it's like what, der'?"

Safer was cool. Good for them. Then again, safer wasn't as exciting. To an extent, it made Vastime a tad bit less of an interesting or attractive place to visit, but maybe gauging that with her own eyes was necessary.

Micaiah continued to listen, her ears focused on his words while her eyes wandered around the ceiling. She even missed the server coming back with their food.

"Damting 'dat stori. can no relate, me; wen I die long ago, bes' ting happening to me. Before, I was livin' in hell! Can no remind my own self good from 'dem times since."

Micaiah's eyes finally fell back down to catch the food already placed on the low table for them. She didn't make note of it and just leaned forward to grab it before cuddling back into her seat. She took off her boots and curled her legs under herself until she was comfy, took a bite of her pudding and continued.

"If you a shinigami, you doin' what here on Urt?"