"Ah, dun mind them," Chachan responded cheerfully as hiked the package a bit farther up into his armpit. He was either oblivious to the wringer she had put them all through, or actively ignoring it in an attempt to stay positive. Either was fairly likely. "Doman metalwork's pretty confusin' stuff fer outsiders anyroad - thanks ta a lot of th' finer stuff like metal-foldin' techniques bein' kept family secrets 'n whatnot - so add tryin' ta make changes on top'a that 'n ya can see why anyone'd get a lil' frustrated."
The little Lalafell shivered a bit as the doors were pushed open and the salty sea winds whipped into the stifling smoke of the Guildhouse. He had quickly acclimated to the heat of the place - as one who spends their livelihood in such conditions would - which made the weather outside seem that much chillier by comparison, even if the Dunesfolk had only been out of it for less than half a bell's time. He recovered quickly, however, with a small shake of the head and distracting himself from the temperature change by returning his attentions to the Au Ra as she fell into step next to him. Her suggestions aided quite a bit in the latter, as suggested by the wide-eyed expression Chachanji gave her.
"Th' Bismarck? W-well, if'n they have th' space 'n ya have th' gil ta burn," he awkwardly agreed, rubbing at the back of his neck. The Bismarck was certainly one of the finest eateries in Limsa Lominsa, and had the popularity - and prices - to match it. Chachan had spent nearly half his winnings from his singular Grindstone victory just to reserve a space there for a party moons back, so the idea of just dropping in to the place seemed foreign to him. Though, to be fair, most of his visits to the restaurant had been in the company of at least a dozen other people.
The Wench, conversely, was more of the common man's establishment. Its crowding was usually less due to the quality to the food and more the affordable prices. Of course, there were other such taverns and eateries that dotted the seaside city-state - such as the Missing Member and the various hole-in-the-wall pubs and food stalls littered about Hawker's Alley - but the Wench's added proximity to the Mizzenmast Inn made it far more convenient for the many travelers that frequented Limsa's streets. It was also the closer of the two establishments to the Smithing Guilds, sitting a short trek across the Aftcastle.
"B-but yeah, gettin' somethin' ta eat dun sound too bad, if'n..." The statement was cut off by a low grumbling from the Lalafell's gut. Which elicited an embarrassed little chuckle and a sudden digging about his person before producing a strip of jerky from one of his many pouches. The treat was rather quickly shoved into his mouth, as if just doing that would quell the rumblings of his stomach as he finished weakly: "Err, i-if'n ya dun mind."
The little Lalafell shivered a bit as the doors were pushed open and the salty sea winds whipped into the stifling smoke of the Guildhouse. He had quickly acclimated to the heat of the place - as one who spends their livelihood in such conditions would - which made the weather outside seem that much chillier by comparison, even if the Dunesfolk had only been out of it for less than half a bell's time. He recovered quickly, however, with a small shake of the head and distracting himself from the temperature change by returning his attentions to the Au Ra as she fell into step next to him. Her suggestions aided quite a bit in the latter, as suggested by the wide-eyed expression Chachanji gave her.
"Th' Bismarck? W-well, if'n they have th' space 'n ya have th' gil ta burn," he awkwardly agreed, rubbing at the back of his neck. The Bismarck was certainly one of the finest eateries in Limsa Lominsa, and had the popularity - and prices - to match it. Chachan had spent nearly half his winnings from his singular Grindstone victory just to reserve a space there for a party moons back, so the idea of just dropping in to the place seemed foreign to him. Though, to be fair, most of his visits to the restaurant had been in the company of at least a dozen other people.
The Wench, conversely, was more of the common man's establishment. Its crowding was usually less due to the quality to the food and more the affordable prices. Of course, there were other such taverns and eateries that dotted the seaside city-state - such as the Missing Member and the various hole-in-the-wall pubs and food stalls littered about Hawker's Alley - but the Wench's added proximity to the Mizzenmast Inn made it far more convenient for the many travelers that frequented Limsa's streets. It was also the closer of the two establishments to the Smithing Guilds, sitting a short trek across the Aftcastle.
"B-but yeah, gettin' somethin' ta eat dun sound too bad, if'n..." The statement was cut off by a low grumbling from the Lalafell's gut. Which elicited an embarrassed little chuckle and a sudden digging about his person before producing a strip of jerky from one of his many pouches. The treat was rather quickly shoved into his mouth, as if just doing that would quell the rumblings of his stomach as he finished weakly: "Err, i-if'n ya dun mind."
~