A closer dissection to the Lalafell's accent would find that it didn't seem to have much rhyme or reason to it. At the base was the tongue of the Ul'dahn common-folk and merchants, that much was easy enough to identify. However, it was heavily layered with intonations and slang pulled almost haphazardly from Limsan and general adventuring lexicons. It sounded almost as if someone was trying a bit too hard to sound Eorzean, but the strange mishmash came almost too easily to the little smith's lips. Implying either a unique dialect from some niche part of Eorzean culture or one that he had grown accustom to using over some length of time.
"Sounds good ta me," Chachan agreed in that strange tongue of his and with a small nod of his head, hefting the package under his arm as if it had started to slip. "'n ya can jus' call me 'Chachan' if'n ya prefer. Most folks do." He pauses thoughtfully for a beat. "Lotsa folks 'round these parts dun seem as interested in honorifics."
With that odd bit of commentary doled out, he followed the waitress and Ayaka to the table proper, taking a moment to push the parcel onto it before clambering into his seat. The waitress politely set down a pair of menus for the both of them, her gaze continuing to flit between them as held her serving tray to her chest patiently for them to get seated. Once they seemed comfortable enough, she piped up with a cheery: "Would you like anything to drink to start off with?"
Chachan was already undoing the twine ties of the package when the question was posed, screeching to a halt in the process. He sent a bashful little look the waitress' way, his stout fingers still clamped down on the twine. He seemed to realize this and jerked away from the package as if it had suddenly become red hot, though that descriptor might better fit his cheeks. Boy seemed to fluster pretty easily.
"O-oh, um... some orange juice'd be jus' fine, thankya," he managed, scratching at a freckled cheek with a gloved finger. He glanced down at the half-opened parcel and then over at Ayaka, the latter garnering the waitress' attention as well as the Lalafell set to work on the package bindings once more. "Um... ya want anythin'?"
If left to his own devices, Chachanji would finish unveiling the pair of blades and smooth the wrapping out against the wood tabletop. Ayaka's thoughts on the light seemed to have hit home, and the Dunesfolk looked over the blades from above first - his reflective violet orbs studying the two weapons. He'd then lift one and hold it up closer to the light, checking its weight and balance and the straightness of the blade itself amongst other things. All done with a preciseness and exactness that seemed almost alien compared to his flustering and bumbling earlier, as if someone had swapped him out for a completely different Lalafell when Ayaka wasn't looking. And he'd apply that same intense amount of attention to the second blade once he was done with the first - lost in his own little world as the waitress attended to the Au Ra.
"Sounds good ta me," Chachan agreed in that strange tongue of his and with a small nod of his head, hefting the package under his arm as if it had started to slip. "'n ya can jus' call me 'Chachan' if'n ya prefer. Most folks do." He pauses thoughtfully for a beat. "Lotsa folks 'round these parts dun seem as interested in honorifics."
With that odd bit of commentary doled out, he followed the waitress and Ayaka to the table proper, taking a moment to push the parcel onto it before clambering into his seat. The waitress politely set down a pair of menus for the both of them, her gaze continuing to flit between them as held her serving tray to her chest patiently for them to get seated. Once they seemed comfortable enough, she piped up with a cheery: "Would you like anything to drink to start off with?"
Chachan was already undoing the twine ties of the package when the question was posed, screeching to a halt in the process. He sent a bashful little look the waitress' way, his stout fingers still clamped down on the twine. He seemed to realize this and jerked away from the package as if it had suddenly become red hot, though that descriptor might better fit his cheeks. Boy seemed to fluster pretty easily.
"O-oh, um... some orange juice'd be jus' fine, thankya," he managed, scratching at a freckled cheek with a gloved finger. He glanced down at the half-opened parcel and then over at Ayaka, the latter garnering the waitress' attention as well as the Lalafell set to work on the package bindings once more. "Um... ya want anythin'?"
If left to his own devices, Chachanji would finish unveiling the pair of blades and smooth the wrapping out against the wood tabletop. Ayaka's thoughts on the light seemed to have hit home, and the Dunesfolk looked over the blades from above first - his reflective violet orbs studying the two weapons. He'd then lift one and hold it up closer to the light, checking its weight and balance and the straightness of the blade itself amongst other things. All done with a preciseness and exactness that seemed almost alien compared to his flustering and bumbling earlier, as if someone had swapped him out for a completely different Lalafell when Ayaka wasn't looking. And he'd apply that same intense amount of attention to the second blade once he was done with the first - lost in his own little world as the waitress attended to the Au Ra.
~