#not tagging everyone here I'm too lazy for it LUL

[morelikesin]

Day 27 - Pious

Blóð swung their mug gently as they replied, "Oh, even before the war was Falkreath the center of death, but I can tell you that it didn't help." They drank, the bitterness of the floral tea cut by the several takes of sugar they had added.

"It's beautiful, I mean," Natalie held her cup between her hands, the warmth of her drink a comfort. "If I were to be laid to rest anywhere, I would certainly think of a place like 'is. I love the nightshade."

Blóð hummed in agreement, setting their drink down just in time for the waitress to arrive with a platter of food in her arms. As she placed one of the plates onto the table, Narri had a word to say about the conversation she had overheard from them. "We're talking about the cemetery? Plenty of visitors find it's the only reason they're in town."

"'Cause they got someone buried here?" Elliott asked, wasting no time in grabbing one of the poached apples - his fingers now sticky.

"That, or embalmed in the Hall of the Dead," Blóð answered.

Narri set down another plate, this one holding the seared slaughterfish and roasted potatoes - to say the smell was a cause for salivation would be an understatement. She placed a small wooden bowl filled with the lemon tartar sauce beside it. "Is that what you're here for? A funeral? Or maybe just visiting a grave?"

As to fashion an eloquent explanation for their reason being here, without giving away the idea that it's a delicate and quite secretive, for now, operation, Alexander answered her questioning in a typical dry tone:

"Business."

Narri hummed in understanding, "I see. Well, if you do have any inclination to visit the dead, I'm to tell you that septim offerings on the outdoor graves are prohibited." She leaned a little closer, cringing, "Thieves."

The party made a distinct "Ah," in comprehension.

Narri set down two plates after one another, the pair both carrying servings of poached eggs. "Runil is the one to see if you have any other concerns. Or prayers to offer, if you're the pious type."

Walter gave her a nod, swinging his arm to hang on the backrest of his seat. "That should be helpful. Thanks, mate."

She turned the platter on its side to hold it under her arm and against her hip, smiling at Walter's pleasantries. "Handsome man like you needs any more information, I'll be here until my shift ends," she turned just as the last of her words left her mouth, carrying on to take care of the other patrons.

Octavio carved into the fish with his fork, dipping it into some of its complementary sauce before shoving the bite into his mouth. It was salty and savory and held a zing of citrus from its accompaniment - the taste not too unlike a largemouth bass, but the flesh of a bluefin tuna. He covered his mouth as to speak with some semblance of etiquette, "First of all, this fucks. Second of all," he chewed momentarily, "you're an international heartthrob, dude."

Blóð purred, tearing a segment of the slaughterfish with their hand, "I'll say."