He's intrigued to see this tower. He knows Caleb has the spell, but he has never had occasion to see it and he wonders what it looks like. These things are always a reflection of those who cast them, and some are far better at imposing their will than others.
Yussa slips out of the house ahead of Caleb and waits for him as he closes up behind them. He smiles at the mention of the teashop. As they walk, he resists the urge to disguise himself at all. They aren't in Zadash, there is really no need. There are few here who know him, or who would recognize him on sight. His reputation may precede him in the halls of the Academy, but knowing his name is not the same as knowing what he looks like.
Caleb locks up behind them with a physical key that his slips into his vest pocket and by engaging his arcane wards. He leaves nothing too important or potentially incrementing in the house, preferring to keep important items on him in his amber vault and to store any evidence regarding the case against the Assembly safely at the Cobalt Soul, but what wizard doesn't want to protect his own work?
He turns to Yussa with the same warmth that has lingered in his eyes all day, and they set off in the direction of Caleb's favorite teashop.
"There is nothing like tea from our friend Caduceus, of course," he says as they walk, "but as I cannot make a trip to the Blooming Grove every time I am running short, I pad out my supply from this shop. Their specialty blends are unique. I have not yet had one that disappointed me."
True to the name, the Tangles are a labyrinth of streets of streets that twist and turn with seemingly no rhyme or reason, some narrow, some wide, some residential, some crowded with shops. This oldest part of this very old city is a snarl that the rest expanded around. Caleb has no problem at all navigating. With his memory and innate sense of direction, he was made to live in a place like this. Some streets are much busier than others, and as they reach one thronged with people, he thinks again about offering his hand. But nerves get the better of him, and he offers his arm instead. A compromise, and nearly as good.
Yussa likes the Tangles, and he likes them even more with such a capable guide. When Caleb offers his arm as they approach a crowded street, Yussa doesn't hesitate to lace his own through it. He keeps close to Caleb, taking the excuse of the crowd to do so.
"There is a place in Nicodranas that supplies many of my preferred blends, but if I find something here I enjoy enough, you may be obligated to bring some each time you visit," he warns with a little smirk.
The press of people doesn't bother him too much - it's duration more than anything that starts to wear on him - but he is happy none the less to set foot in the teashop, their presence announced by the soft sound of a little bell.
"I am aware of the risks," Caleb quips in return, "and am prepared to accept this condition, should it become necessary."
He's also quite happy to have an excuse to keep Yussa close as they walk. Though it's a near certainty that no on on the street is going to recognize either of them, Caleb carries a quiet sense of pride with him today because Yussa is happy to be seen with him. He hadn't quite realized how much that would mean to him.
The shop is small and cozy, with a single small table by the front window and the halfling owner, Frida, behind the counter portioning out loose leaf with a delicate scale. She smiles up at them when the bell chimes, and smiles a little wider when she greets Caleb by name in Zemnian. He's here frequently enough to be friendly.
"Hallo, Frida. I have a friend in town with an appreciation for tea, so I thought I would bring him by," he explains. While they normally talk in Zemnian, he speaks in Common for Yussa's benefit, and she catches on.
"I would be offended if you did not," she says. Her accent in Common is even thicker than his. "Come, friend of Caleb, tell me what to make for you." She gestures them emphatically up to the counter, which is human-sized rather than halfling to accommodate the majority of her customers. She's always perched in a tall chair to make up the difference.
Frida moves her work aside to replace it with a pair of mugs she pulls from beneath the counter, and lifts the steaming kettle from the enchanted warming plate beside her to fill them. "It is cold out. Drink up," she urges. The tea is deep orange in color and the aroma is both earthy and spicy. Caleb wraps a hand around a mug, letting the warmth seep into his fingers as he lifts it up to breathe in the steam.
Yussa is quietly charmed by Frida and by her familiarity with Caleb. When she addresses him, he is able to articulate what he likes with ease, and he ends by saying that he trusts her judgement with those details in mind.
He's pleased by the blend she offers them, and he gives his quiet thanks as he accepts his own mug. He can feel the warmth through his gloves and it's very pleasant.
"Thank you, Mistress," he says with a polite nod. He glances at Caleb, then drifts to the table by the window. There is no reason to rush back outside.
Caleb gives his thanks as well before following Yussa to the single table, quietly pleased that he seems so pleased. Cradling his own mug, he slides into the seat across from him. He's sat here a few times before, gazing out the window and losing himself in thought. It's good for people watching, and no one disturbs him.
"We could go to the street market next," he muses aloud, looking from his cup to the window. "There are vendors there from across the northern part of the Empire. Craftsmen, artisans, specialists in unique fields--there is always something interesting." With a hint of a smile as he glances back at Yussa, he adds, "There are also outdoor festivities in that area from summer through Harvest's Close. This time of year, that mostly means beer, food, and music."
A thought comes to him--an memory, really--and Caleb considers quietly for a moment before allowing himself to relate it, quiet and little rueful, but fond. "My father went a few times when I was a child, joining others bringing crops from our village into the city to sell at the market. When he would come home and tell me about it, it always sounded so grand. I skipped class a couple of times while I was in school to go myself."
Yussa listens as he looks out the window, taking in everything from behind the safety of the glass. The market sounds interesting, and it would be hard to ignore the way Caleb sounds as he talks about it. Golden eyes shift from the streetscape to the young man sitting across from him.
They don't speak much of their pasts, the lives they lived before Caleb and his friends showed up outside his tower, wanting an audience. Yussa has never asked, but he takes information whenever Caleb offers it. This comes with hesitation, and he can hear the sorrow hiding behind the fondness of the memory.
He lowers his gaze to his tea, allowing himself a bit of nostalgia.
"When I was very young, I would hide unless I was promised a chance to look for books," he says. "When I got older, I found the appeal in exploring."
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no subject
He's intrigued to see this tower. He knows Caleb has the spell, but he has never had occasion to see it and he wonders what it looks like. These things are always a reflection of those who cast them, and some are far better at imposing their will than others.
Yussa slips out of the house ahead of Caleb and waits for him as he closes up behind them. He smiles at the mention of the teashop. As they walk, he resists the urge to disguise himself at all. They aren't in Zadash, there is really no need. There are few here who know him, or who would recognize him on sight. His reputation may precede him in the halls of the Academy, but knowing his name is not the same as knowing what he looks like.
no subject
He turns to Yussa with the same warmth that has lingered in his eyes all day, and they set off in the direction of Caleb's favorite teashop.
"There is nothing like tea from our friend Caduceus, of course," he says as they walk, "but as I cannot make a trip to the Blooming Grove every time I am running short, I pad out my supply from this shop. Their specialty blends are unique. I have not yet had one that disappointed me."
True to the name, the Tangles are a labyrinth of streets of streets that twist and turn with seemingly no rhyme or reason, some narrow, some wide, some residential, some crowded with shops. This oldest part of this very old city is a snarl that the rest expanded around. Caleb has no problem at all navigating. With his memory and innate sense of direction, he was made to live in a place like this. Some streets are much busier than others, and as they reach one thronged with people, he thinks again about offering his hand. But nerves get the better of him, and he offers his arm instead. A compromise, and nearly as good.
no subject
"There is a place in Nicodranas that supplies many of my preferred blends, but if I find something here I enjoy enough, you may be obligated to bring some each time you visit," he warns with a little smirk.
The press of people doesn't bother him too much - it's duration more than anything that starts to wear on him - but he is happy none the less to set foot in the teashop, their presence announced by the soft sound of a little bell.
no subject
He's also quite happy to have an excuse to keep Yussa close as they walk. Though it's a near certainty that no on on the street is going to recognize either of them, Caleb carries a quiet sense of pride with him today because Yussa is happy to be seen with him. He hadn't quite realized how much that would mean to him.
The shop is small and cozy, with a single small table by the front window and the halfling owner, Frida, behind the counter portioning out loose leaf with a delicate scale. She smiles up at them when the bell chimes, and smiles a little wider when she greets Caleb by name in Zemnian. He's here frequently enough to be friendly.
"Hallo, Frida. I have a friend in town with an appreciation for tea, so I thought I would bring him by," he explains. While they normally talk in Zemnian, he speaks in Common for Yussa's benefit, and she catches on.
"I would be offended if you did not," she says. Her accent in Common is even thicker than his. "Come, friend of Caleb, tell me what to make for you." She gestures them emphatically up to the counter, which is human-sized rather than halfling to accommodate the majority of her customers. She's always perched in a tall chair to make up the difference.
Frida moves her work aside to replace it with a pair of mugs she pulls from beneath the counter, and lifts the steaming kettle from the enchanted warming plate beside her to fill them. "It is cold out. Drink up," she urges. The tea is deep orange in color and the aroma is both earthy and spicy. Caleb wraps a hand around a mug, letting the warmth seep into his fingers as he lifts it up to breathe in the steam.
no subject
He's pleased by the blend she offers them, and he gives his quiet thanks as he accepts his own mug. He can feel the warmth through his gloves and it's very pleasant.
"Thank you, Mistress," he says with a polite nod. He glances at Caleb, then drifts to the table by the window. There is no reason to rush back outside.
no subject
"We could go to the street market next," he muses aloud, looking from his cup to the window. "There are vendors there from across the northern part of the Empire. Craftsmen, artisans, specialists in unique fields--there is always something interesting." With a hint of a smile as he glances back at Yussa, he adds, "There are also outdoor festivities in that area from summer through Harvest's Close. This time of year, that mostly means beer, food, and music."
A thought comes to him--an memory, really--and Caleb considers quietly for a moment before allowing himself to relate it, quiet and little rueful, but fond. "My father went a few times when I was a child, joining others bringing crops from our village into the city to sell at the market. When he would come home and tell me about it, it always sounded so grand. I skipped class a couple of times while I was in school to go myself."
no subject
They don't speak much of their pasts, the lives they lived before Caleb and his friends showed up outside his tower, wanting an audience. Yussa has never asked, but he takes information whenever Caleb offers it. This comes with hesitation, and he can hear the sorrow hiding behind the fondness of the memory.
He lowers his gaze to his tea, allowing himself a bit of nostalgia.
"When I was very young, I would hide unless I was promised a chance to look for books," he says. "When I got older, I found the appeal in exploring."