[The last three cities truly spoiled them, because Monika is now looking at her woefully depleting loot while also sweatily glancing at more weather appropriate clothing. This is the worst? Hateful.]
Why couldn't the powers that be give us the money to actually buy things? This sucks.
[ Yeah, it's kind of unfortunate, given Alphinaud's own clothing. Brief visits to Ul'dah were never going to prepare him for a longer stay in the desert. ]
It is a shame... Yet if I do recall correctly, we should be able to barter with the merchants by other means.
Well, that's true... But isn't it a little sad to give up the things we picked up from those other worlds? We don't know if we'll get to go back, or hear from the people ever again.
Then... hm. 'Tis not uncommon for travelers back in mine own home world to do favors in turn for goods. Perhaps the merchants here would be willing to exchange similarly in lieu of coin.
[Another person is dead, but that doesn't mean their stomachs are going to stop doing their thing.
Monika has just finished grabbing a coffee and sandwich for herself when she notices Alphinaud, and then it's a balancing game as she precariously holds both in one arm to wave at him. Hello! No shouting for her today because her voice is throat is still dying, thank you.]
Alphinaud is already seated—has been, if his half finished meal is anything to go by—when she notices her wave. With a cant of his head, he points to the seat across from him; it's a little busy for a Sunday evening, so seating is sparse. ]
Well enough, I suppose. [ Better than his sister, really, but not too hot. ] Weary and worn, but that has become the norm after these grueling weekends of ours. The only relief is knowing that the end of this horrid farce is nigh.
I think that's a sentiment shared by all of us... We've been basically waiting for the end since we woke up in Cittagazze. It feels like a lifetime ago.
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tuesday, week three.
Why couldn't the powers that be give us the money to actually buy things? This sucks.
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It is a shame... Yet if I do recall correctly, we should be able to barter with the merchants by other means.
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Then... hm. 'Tis not uncommon for travelers back in mine own home world to do favors in turn for goods. Perhaps the merchants here would be willing to exchange similarly in lieu of coin.
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sunday, week six.
Monika has just finished grabbing a coffee and sandwich for herself when she notices Alphinaud, and then it's a balancing game as she precariously holds both in one arm to wave at him. Hello! No shouting for her today because her voice is throat is still dying, thank you.]
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Alphinaud is already seated—has been, if his half finished meal is anything to go by—when she notices her wave. With a cant of his head, he points to the seat across from him; it's a little busy for a Sunday evening, so seating is sparse. ]
Care to join me?
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She smiles and approaches his table.]
Yes, thank you. [The balancing act continues until she sets her coffee down, at least.] How are you holding up, Alphinaud?
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Well enough, I suppose. [ Better than his sister, really, but not too hot. ] Weary and worn, but that has become the norm after these grueling weekends of ours. The only relief is knowing that the end of this horrid farce is nigh.
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