Joys, Doubts, and Real Estate

Damp, cold, and flurries, yet at least the wind has died down. It is enough that Verna is under cover and indoors for the moment, occupying her temporary guest lodging care of the Elunans. They are gracious enough hosts, as the room is more than adequate and large enough for a modest table and several chairs in addition to storage, washbasin, and bed. Spacious enough for guests, not unlike an inn suite, and certainly luxurious compared to her vault in her own temple.

The door is mostly closed though not secured nor latched, with an escort/guard stationed in the hall. Whether attempting discretion, multi-tasking, or merely bored, said Silverguard walks up and down the hall rather than loiter.

The chill in the air was easy to drive most indoors, as it does for a becoming-frequent visitor of the Sky-Singer's temple. The purpose of their visit was undefined, as they wandered their way onto the grounds.

A scarred mul'neissa drifts through the halls slowly, more than likely being given a once over by the Silverguards as she vaguely matches the description of someone else. Torch-bright eyes fall on a door, feet still for a moment as they brush their hand against it. A breath In. Out.

Clanking armor from the Silverguard breaks her out of her reverie, and she glances over to where they were vaguely guarding. She strains her ears for a spell, guesses a door across the hall, and strides up to it, knocking in a staccato manner.

"Hello?" <Handspeech>

"Enter," Verna notes politely to the door in response to the knocking. She is currently seated at the table, which also has a small assortment of scones, cakes, and other sweets on a platter. In front of her is her now-typical small book, closed and resting upon the table.

Aryia blinks. Oh, this was Verna's room. Perhaps it was... someone else's? She scratches her head at that little mental hiccup before shaking it.

The Silverguard squints at the mute mul, and she makes a tepid expression before turning the knob and using her weight to open the door in a careless manner.

She enters and shuts it before any hassle was abound.

Glowing gaze sweeps around the room, white brows raised high. Pasteries and goodies. Certainly a step above The Room. She raises a hand to the Mourner. "Hey." <Handspeech>

Verna lifts a hand in greeting, then motions it to the table before it joins her other to respond in kind. "Welcome. Please, have a seat, and avail yourself of the sweets. I cannot consume them all, and would soon require new robes if I somehow managed to. Also, I welcome the company." <Handspeech>

Aryia chuckles silently and shakes her head as she ambles on over, grabbing a chair and turning it around to straddle and rest her elbows on its back. "Glad I'm good company. I knew you were hanging around here but I didn't realize that Vault trip was a actually a temporary move. I hope that painting didn't complain the entire way down here."

The mute goes for the closest pastry nearby and uncouthly chomps down on it. <Handspeech>

"I didn't know you had a sweet tooth," the mute gestures with her mouth full. <Handspeech>

"Why would you consider yourself poor company?" Verna inquires aloud, if perhaps rather rhetorically. Her head then shakes in the negative. "No, Hercule remains tidily wrapped and stowed, though others were worthy of relocation." A hand gestures to the wall and the singular hanging that is not moon-related or -inspired: a meticulously penned map of the stars, with The Grey Harpist's Scales as the centerpoint.

The mouthful comment draws a twitch of her lips. "Auranar seems to believe that I do, or wishes to instill one within me. She might well succeed."

The rhetoric question as to why is met with a big shrug, a motion that sweeps another sweet into the punching machine. Gotta fuel that thing somehow. Her gaze wanders towards the indicated wall and- ah.

That made a smile crack across her currently chipmunk-like face.

Blinking that away, the pugilist gulps it all down and faintly gasps, as if trying to get breath to speak, but instead a corner of her lips quirks upwards. "Oh? She brought all of this for you? That's really sweet of her."

A pause. Perhaps for dramatic effect, then Aryia leans in with a gleam of mischief in her eyes. "... so..? How are you two doooooing?" <Handspeech>

"She intended that we enjoyed it together," Verna clarfies rather flatly, "which we did. Perhaps she wishes neither of us to fit through the door." The question is not a surprise. As to the lean and gleam... well, is it so unusual from Aryia. There is another flicker of Verna's lips; while not quite a beaming smile, they are curved upwards slightly more than neutral.

"We had a pleasant discussion despite the worries of the present and her concern for my health." Incidentally, her facial contusions are now, in fact, absent. "On that topic, your arrival is fortuitous. I wished to inquire about your newly-acquired residence. Do you know of others available within the city? Perhaps land leases open in the immediate surroundings?"

Aryia snorts at the clarification, her shaking her head as a chuckle is evident in the shake of her shoulders.

It is unusual. Perhaps she's just in a cheeky mood.

She tilts her head to the side, using that lean to rest her chin on one of her propped up arms. "Good to see your face is better, Aryia throws out as an idle comment, but the inquiry makes her head tilt further in the same direction. She taps her chin. "Hmmm... when we got it, it was during the height of the demon panic, so... kiiiind of got it for a steal," she points out, but then elaborates further. "I think there may be some places deeper in the Lower Markets, perhaps even butting against the Trades. People are kind of coming back now."

Now it was her turn for a question. She picks up a scone, and points it at Verna. "Your Vault not cutting it anymore?" <Handspeech>

Either Verna might wish to yet claim a bit more sweet for herself and/or the pointing of the scone reminds her that they are in, indeed, quite delicious. Such is primarily due to the filling rather than the biscuit, but she digresses. She picks up on for herself, though does not immediately take a bite.

"Initially, I sought to aid Aura in locating a suitable residence with an appropriate kitchen. The vault is sufficient for study and rest. Yet, now I am uncertain that only study and rest are sufficient for myself. We decided that it would be more efficient if we combined our efforts and resources to seek a single residence."

Now the scone is bisected by a large bite and subsequent chewing.

Aryia bobs her head along, munching on the scone with a waning appetite as she's inhaled a credible number of sweets at this point.

It takes her a moment to process that.

Then a grin breaks out on her face. Her lips move to a deducible 'awwwwwwww!', followed by a gesture of, "You two are moving in together! That's so sweet! Now now, I know what you're going to say-"

She puts her scone down and places a hand on her hip, expression flattening out as her lips and hand move in tandem- "It's a perfectly reasonable and logical solution, we both have the same problem that can be solved with one solution."

She quits that mimicry, then goes back to being cheeky, "Still though, that's great!" <Handspeech>

Verna chews upon her own bite as Aryia processes. When the full-blood's expression changes, she comments, and subsquently begins her not-exactly-inaccurate impersonation, Verna... simply consumes the remaining half of her scone. Whilst chewing, she dutifully wipes her hands free of crumbs on a napkin before responding.

"It is a perfectly reasonable and logical solution, we both have the same problem that can be solved with one solution. Efficiently." she mimics back, with slight clarification. She then goes on to expound.

"Efficiency was not the only consideration. She also noted that an empty home is not much of a home. I cannot deny that, be it logic or not." In this case, the 'not' is both hands crossed over her chest as opposed to circling an upward-extended index finger near her head. This time, she cannot, or does not, fully contain the flicker and wears a smile.

Aryia snickers as her impersonation is reflected and corrected, her rising briefly to turn her chair around the proper way before taking a seat.

Her expression softens some. Merely watching the anomaly that spreads across the Mourner's visage.

A couple of motions, slow. "You look genuinely happy. I'm glad for you."

There was no teasing. No jab at anything. She just smiles warmly.<Handspeech>

Verna nods. "I am..." she affirms with some zeal, though her tone turns unsteady afterwards and her slender smile tightens to pursed lips, "and also terrified... on multiple avenues." She is succinct in her vaguery.

Aryia's smile turns from pride, to empathy. "I get what you mean."

She props her elbow up on the table and motions to Verna. "Dead demon memories aside, what's got you afraid? Perhaps I can share some insights from my own ventures into 'living with someone I like'. Maybe help assuage some of that." <Handspeech>

Verna considers a response to that question, with that exclusion. "Aside from that, which concerns me greatly, especially in her regard, I have not shared a non-communal residence since I was a child. There will be... an acclimation period." Yes, that seems the proper term.

Aryia nods, rubbing her neck and looking up at the ceiling. "A valid concern, but perhaps allaying the smaller worries will help. Uh.. well, yes, there will be a time to get used to it. I'm sure she will as well. But instead of having a bitch of a mother breathing down your throat, instead you'll have a pretty elf making you breakfast."

The smirk is back. Teasing resumed. <Handspeech>

That thought sparks an outright frown on Verna's visage. "While I do not know your mother well, she seems infinitely more reasonable and polite than mine own. Thus I am indeed grateful she is not present to contend with." After a pause, she adds, "As well as for the possibility of Aura making meals. She is a remarkably gifted cook, though such is not her only talent."

Aryia snickers, "Yes, I know. Mother was a bit... overbearing at times, but she meant well."

The mute blinks at that notion. Her mouth opens, then she bites her tongue, the faintest bit of a glimmer appearing in the crystals of her telepathy headband. She coughs into her fist before. "So what are you worried about, then?" <Handspeech>

Verna may not be an expert at deciphering body language, yet she is not ignorant nor blind to such. Alternatively, it could be the glimmer in the known enchanted item that is a clue. "If you have any insight, or specific questions, please do not hestitate." As for the question asked, she considers more specific concerns before conceding, "I am concerned that I will inadvertently complicate matters. As I do not hold any familiarity with the situation, I cannot provide clarification."

Said glimmer in such an item must have been some sort of resonant energy within it to cause it to flicker faintly in activation. Or, in other words, Aryia was yelling something in her head.

She coughs one more time, this time off to the side before shaking her head. "Inadvertant complication can be easily dissuaded by being open and clear with your communication. Yes, it may be awkward sometimes, but it's necessary to cohabitate. For example, Violet is far more clean than me, so we butt heads sometimes on that. She comes to me when something is remiss, and I try to fix it."

The mute raises a shoulder. "I guess really my main question would be: what do you do on a routine basis that would complicate things?" <Handspeech>

Verna listens (or obseves, rather) and nods at the shared wisdom. This sparks something of a spontaneous if tangential question. "Is it typical for conversations with one's ... counterpart, as a term, to be more difficult than with others, despite the same or similar topics?"

Aryia blinks and tilts her head to the side. "That's... complicated. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. You may have a hard time talking with them about something because you don't want to hurt their feelings. Or you're afraid they won't like that part of you. It takes time for those things to iron out."

Her gaze goes to the pastries that Aryia hasn't touched in a minute. "... though, I don't think you'll have too much to worry about. This woman seems to really like you, so she'll like all the parts of you that you might be insecure about." <Handspeech>

Verna's face firms as she considers this, and there are several small reflexive nods with her apparent confirmation or understanding. "She is far more expressive than I." As if this were a stark revelation. "Her concerns aggravate and worry her greatly. This, in turn, causes me concern. We are not identical, nor would I wish us to be, but I do not wish her unhappy nor upset. Currently, it is those parts of me that are not truly me of which I am most troubled, that most trouble her. I would not share my concerns with her, however, as they would only add to her own."

A little smile flickers at that supposed revelation, but Aryia's expression softens. She exhales through her nose. A fingernail scratches across the table as the mute thinks. "Do you think her troubles include the fear of losing you in the process?"

A rhetorical. Then. "Would it add to her own? Or would the both of you be shouldering that trouble together?" she points out while leaning back in her chair, boots propping up on the side of the table. <Handspeech>

Rhetorical or not, some answer may come to the first question as Verna's cheeks color, acocmpanied by a slight, single nod. "She spoke to that effect. In the same manner, I would do my utmost to protect her. I wish to assuage her concerns, not pile my own atop them."

A pause and an exhalation. "I attempted to do exactly thus, and believe that I succeded; she was at ease or less burdened at the least. If burdens need be shouldered unequally for her sake, I would gladly do sake."

Aryia's lips quirk upwards at the sight of her rhetorical's effect, but it soon smooths out to a pensive expression. Then, a soft, hissing, "V-rn-." Motion, "Ebb and flow. You shouldered hers, now let her help with yours. Even if its just a little bit. You could just vent, or let her cook you something. Or just... I don't know, hug it out. You're not infallible." <Handspeech>

There is that flicker of her lips, again. Not quite a smile, but close. Maybe it is mention of cooking, or hugs? Both?

"She -has- aided me, and likely provided the key to resolving this ... issue." The flicker firms to a line, "Though she is modest or unconvinced of her own value, at times. I do not consider myself infallible; that has been readily proven untrue on several occassions. I..." A pause after her words trail off, and perhaps a realization. "I am venting, am I not?"

Aryia remains precariously balanced on the back legs of her chair as she crosses her arms, eyes closed. The pause gives the mute a moment to steal a small tart, her faintly smiling. Her eyes open, and instead of answering the question, she winks, and takes a bite. "And here we loop back to about thing about conversation topics with one's other."

She cracks her neck, "I think you two will be just fine living together." <Handspeech>

Verna may or may not entirely follow the logic on either of those. Regardless, she concedes with a nod. Perhaps the venting (now that she recognizes it for such) served its purpose, for now? "I will keep that in mind, and thank you for your assurance." Aryia has not ill-advised her yet, afterall. All hail Aryia the Wise.

Aryia bobs her head onec. "Of course. Glad I could prop your confidence up."

Aryia the Wise, all the hail the master of foot-in-mouth interactions and expert in social blunders.

She tips back juuuust a bit further before turning to catch herself and rise to her feet. "I should probably get going. I kind of just wandered here, and I've got to tend to some... preparation."

In. Out. <Handspeech>

Verna regards her a moment, potentially curious and yet she does not inquire. In the end, she nods. "Thank you for allowing me to ... vent, as well. As I could not with her. Yet?" The caveat is added late, yet with some optimism. "I do not wish to keep you from any preparation. I wish you the best of fortune in your endeavors. May She judge you justly and at the proper time."

Aryia gives a light smile as she steps around the table to rest a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Anytime. And perhaps, in time, you'll be comfortable venting to her."

She buckles her verdant jacket back together as she steps towards the exit. "Thank you."

A pause, a slow breath as she clasps her hands together. Hesitation in her gait. She didn't know how much she could share. But signs this with a resolved expression.

"Tell Her to keep the doors to the Halls open on the way out for me."

She thumbs her nose, puts her shades on, and slips out. <Handspeech>