synopsychic | (no subject)

Oh, one of the high fantasy types. All right - is now a good time?

High?? Fantasy? Oh - like the Lords of the Ring? [She only had one pop culture dive, and it only lasted for a little while.]

Yes, you can come now!

Like Lord of the Rings. [He sounds amused.] All right, give me a few minutes.

[And in about 10 minutes, there will be a knock on Piñara's door.]

Pinya opens her door to her hut to Elliot, and he sees... well, he sees nothing wrong with her. She's used her adversary powers to hide the injury in her eyes so that they look just fine, and Fen is allowing her to see, for the time being.

Elliot wasn't wrong about her being 'little', she stands at 2'7", a rotund kind of halfling. But the way that she carries herself is certainly more becoming of an adult.

"You must be Elliot," She smiles, gesturing him to come in and sit by the table she's set up. There's a comfortable chair for him, and a stool that will elevate her up to his level.

"Please, do come in."

"Oh, you're a hobbit," Eliot says with interest, "Sort of."

Because if she'd read or seen Lord of the Rings, it was a fair bet she wasn't from Middle Earth. Also, she very much looks like a little girl, not a slightly differently proportioned smaller adult female.

He walks over, looking around, and sits down where she'd indicated. "This is cute."

It probably sounds condescending, but he means the comment genuinely enough.

The hobbit comment only gets a laugh from Pinya.
"Dave sprite called me that, I should probably research where it came from if two separate travellers have called me such!" She giggles as she wanders over to where she keeps her drinks.

"I suppose 'cute' is one word I associate with my room," she muses aloud, "Fit for purpose and fun sized, also. Did you want something to drink at all? Coffee, tea?" Now that she knows how to make the ingredients, she's fully stocked her barista-like bar.

"It comes from Lord of the Rings. You haven't read it, then? Or watched it?" Eliot asks, still glancing around. "You wouldn't happen to have any wine, would you? If not, coffee's good."

"Lord of the... No, I'm afraid nothing by that name exists in our real that you can read nor watch. I shall have to find out what it is, I haven't read a good book in a while now." She smiles, excited that she might actually be able to just... do that.

"I'm sure I can conjure something up for you," a gesture of the hand and a pair of delicate, wide based wine glasses appear from liminal matter.

"I don't suppose you've ever had Blue wine before? It's one of my brother's specialties. Though, if you've a favourite I shall endeavor to match your palette to the ones I know."

"But you just mentioned it before I came over," Eliot says, eyebrows drawing down a bit. She'd come up with the name when he'd mentioned high fantasy, so she must know at least something about it, musn't she?

"And probably shot in the dark guessing about wine isn't the best way to start an evening," he adds, more comfortably. He can talk about wine for days. "I'm always up for something new ... is Blue the name of the vinter, or is it just wine that's blue for some reason?"

"Ah, yes, the thing that Davesprite told me of! My apologies, my head has been somewhat scattered as of late." It's not a lie either, she's spent a lot of time pondering the situation she's in and the last jaunt. Her own mental capabilities aren't quite back to where they should be. "He called me a Hobbit, too. I should really look that up soon if it's going to be a recurring theme." she smiles and rolls her eyes at herself.

"Ah, Blue Costa Del Sol Grapes are the ones that Vivi uses for his favourite wine, but through a happy accident during the fermentation process, he found a catalyst that changes the wine from a light pink to a vivid blue. It's been a local hit near the beaches ever since, and it's all in the preparation. Here," Pinya places the glasses down on the table, and scurries off to the cabinets, bringing out a small lemon, no bigger than her palm. It takes seconds for her to conjure the wine from liminal matter; a colourless glass bottle with a pale Rosé. There's a simple paper sticker on the front that simply reads 'Colada Curiosities: La Nocean Blue' in handwritten pink ink.

She uncorks and pours the wine like a pro, having been working with Vivido and his team closely to provide the best botanicals for his business. Gosh, she misses gardening. Maybe she'll make one here.

"I'll pour two glasses for you, one before, and one after!" She's getting excited, she hasn't had a chance to show off her family's wares for a while now, and it's nice to be able to do it with someone that doesn't know the Colada history.

The first glass of the Blue will taste smooth and refreshing, fruity hints and aromatics of birch and lavender. It's easy on the tongue and light-bodied.

"And now, the magic," She winks, cutting out a slice of the 'Lemon' she held before, although instead of being yellow inside, this one is a bright pink. "The happy accident came about when one of the Sylphs in the territory started to mess around with my citrus crops," She says as she squeezes the juice into the wine glass, and where it hits, it turns into a deep purple for a second before turning into a cerulean blue, like the waters of Costa Del Sol.

"You see, after the Calamity, our family's wine reserves were all destroyed, and so we were trying new things instead of churning out what we had done before. When I had delivered my cargo, I hadn't any idea that they'd been tampered with! Until I had a bottle and one of my own lemons sent back to me with a simple 'Try these together.' The La Nocean Sangria is so popular now."

The new, blue wine is almost like looking at liquid crystal. It's far crisper than the first glass but has new undertones of sweetness to it.

"Let me know what you think, and then we can get to cutting your hair." She laughs.

Eliot tastes the first glass of wine with interest. He'll drink pretty much anything in a pinch, but he actually has a rather sophisticated palate, and it's with some experience and knowledge that he judges the first mouthful.

"Oh, that's a nice summer vintage," he says, raising his eyebrows a bit. Perfect for drinking out on the porch, or overlooking the Seine. Not that he's ever been to France.

He watches the transformation of the wine to blue with a kind of amused interest. It's a cute gimmick, but he wonders if it's going to actually do much besides ruin the flavor of the more delicate wine. To his surprise, it doesn't, it's still quite nice, though he does prefer the first.

"Hmmm ... I think it loses a bit of the subtlety of the first, but still very pleasant," the magician opines. "I'd drink either, but the first I'd bring to a party."

"Isn't it good? I've got a whole rack of it back in my house, Vivi never lets it go unstocked." She snickers.

"I hadn't the time to prepare the full cocktail, but I can try later to make the full sangria. It's somewhat a task to get all the ingredients together for it." She thinks about the last time she had the time to have one. It must've been years now, between Ishgard and Doma.

"Anyhow, you came here to have a mane tamed. Shall I begin? What style are you after, or just... 'Shorter than this'?" She gets up on her stool, which will look comical to Elliot, as her little legs have to clamber up the rungs in it to get up to his head height.

"Can't you just make them?" Eliot asks, since she'd made the other elements of the wine. But then, maybe that was some sort of innate talent, and not the shaping of liminal space, the way most of them learned to do over time.

He gallantly avoids snickering as she climbs the stool, and also refrains from just picking her up - that just seems rude. "And I don't really want to change styles, I just don't think I'm old and regal enough to pull off the medieval mane just yet."

Eliot briefly describes his original haircut, which consists of shorter side, a full, generous top with more in the front than back, and sharply delineated sideburns. The curls are definitely much longer than what he's describing, giving him a rakish, if somewhat sloppier look now.

She sighs over dramatically.

"Unfortunately not! Sylphs use a far more raw source of magic than the Five-Races, and have a very different way of casting it, so we just have no idea how to replicate it other than asking very nicely," She laughs.

Though she's very grateful that he doesn't laugh, she can also see the way the corners of his lips turn down, trying to fight a smile. It's fine, she knows that her race isn't exactly the most common here. She's yet to see anyone else like her at all, in fact.

She takes in his description with an easy understanding and a confident nod.

"Okay, I can make some clippers, at least, and that should take care of the shorn sides for you, and then just the curls on the top to be taken down?" She manipulates a pair of manual clippers out of Liminal matter and sets them down onto the table, trading them in for a comb, a spray bottle, and a sharp pair of scissors.

First things first, dampen and brush out the hair!

"So, Elliot. I seem to recall my party members talking about you vaguely, but I've not had the pleasure of talking to you myself. What kind of world is it that you come from?" Pinya asks conversationally.

She knows that the other two had found this man aggravating, but she also knows that she's the same.

"Party members?" Eliot asks, folding his hands genteely over his stomach. He's completely unaware Pinya knows Felih, or Q'uila, who he considers somewhat a friend.

"And that's a very vague question. I suppose I come from a mostly non-magical world as far as most humans know. Humans are by far the most prolific of the sentient races that live on Earth full time. Magic and magical beings are hidden and somewhat secret. Probably to give them more power - it's hard to manipulate the world if the world knows you're doing it. We do have technology - computers, internet, airplanes, all of that. But we haven't gotten to mundane technologies for space travel yet, or instant teleportation. Even with magic, those things are a serious pain in the ass."

(no subject)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

tfw you cant track your own damn threads

No worries, I have totally done that, too.

Re: No worries, I have totally done that, too.

no subject

no subject

no subject