A Taste Of Home (Boom, Ifrit)

[Ifrit]

Time and Date:: 12 February, 2pm
Weather:: Mild, relatively sunny, not overly chilly
Previous Threads?:: Ice and Foam/Seeking the Caliph/Finally, Solid Ground/The Fire Demon Dances

There was a lot to explore on the huge island. From massive expanses of mountains and coastlines, to the various landmarks in the city itself. The foreigner had gone with his face mostly veiled, in a perhaps misguided attempt to stay inconspicuous. After quietly observing and writing notes in his journal, he decided to set out towards a part of the island he hadn't yet seen.

The view of the waterfall and the lake in the cove was the closest to home he'd felt yet, from how similar it was to oases from his homeland. He felt a tug at his heart and decided to try to ease it by sitting near the waterfall's entry point and pulling out a small pumpkin hookah. The man sat on a blanket he pulled out of his pack and loaded it with a strong shisha mix, with a slight apple scent. He pulled on the pipe as he listened to the water churn nearby. Even in the dead of winter with snow on the ground, he was able to get a flash back to Egypt and see the sands in his mind's eye. Closing his eyes, he sat there and relaxed, pulling thick mouthfuls of the smoke into him and exhaling them slowly.

[Boom and Lockjaw]

Foreigners were cropping up all over the place lately, and not coming and going quickly for the sake of trade. The man wearing iron and tin had been the first, and now it seemed he was everywhere in the village... but he wasn't the only one. It was a fact that more and more strangers hitting their shore seemed intent to stay, including this man who covered himself like a shadow and hid his face.

Had she followed him? Absolutely, and she'd have delighted to admit it to anyone who asked - and why wouldn't she?

Just because he hadn't started anything she'd heard of didn't mean he was innocent, though he seemed peaceful enough. Boom didn't know how to leave the concept of enough alone and she wasn't about to start trying now, as evidenced by the way she curled her upper half around the lip of the little cavern, wordless as she watched him and his weird twisting smoke.

She was more feral animal than person, and that seemed obvious in the way the light hit her eyes, causing the vibrant near-gold of them to burn like a cat's at midnight, and the low hiss of her voice was there to match.
"Foreigner..." The word was rumbled, as much accusation as observation. "Crawling around. Stinking." It didn't actually smell that horrible, but she wasn't going to concede to that.

She strode into the opening, taking up the space with her full figure and her hands on her hips. Her chin was set high, her jaw set, and her confidence was clear as she peered quite literally down her scantly-freckled nose.
"What the Hel are you here for anyway?" Something like a grin curled up one side of her lip in a snaggletoothed sneer, giving a derisive snort at the man. "Couldn't make it at home?"

Her arms crossed over her generous chest, a brow peaking with expectation as she waited impatiently to see how he'd rise to the bait.

[Ifrit]

The man seemed contemplative as he smoked. He could sense when he was being followed, though his hearing was bad in his left ear. But the girl wasn't exactly what one might call overly stealthy as he knew it. Still, he conducted himself just the same, without worry or concern. As she spoke he heard her voice and her attempt at insulting him. It would have made him smile.

"Foreigner, you are very correct." He turned and looked in her eyes, puffing on the sweet-smelling mix. "I have been known to crawl around at times, this is also true. And stinking, I suppose is a matter of personal preference." His voice was calm, even and gentle. Friendly, even. He continued watching her at length.

"Well, if it is a concern of yours, I came to the island to trade, to browse my wares and to speak with the local chieftain." He waved the hose of the larger sized pumpkin hookah in the air to emphasize his point. "I came to this particular cove to explore portions of the land I have not seen yet." The man spoke patiently even through his accent. He held out the other hose of the hookah towards her, prepared to unclip it.

"Today is a day for blueberry. Would you care for some, North lady?" He tilted his head curiously as he regarded her.

[Boom and Lockjaw]

He was so unruffled. Look at him, conversing so casually as though her ferocity meant nothing at all - this did nothing to give her pause, but rather encouraged her to move - she was an agile thing for one built so round, and stooping down under the yawning cavern head did nothing to make her less intimidating as she barreled towards him in a beeline of barely contained fury.

"Listen," She hissed, commanding a thing he seemed to do so well. "I'll tell you what I want." She didn't touch him, but she did encroach on his space, leaning in so that she was an inch or only centimeters away from his crouching figure, hovering over him with those livid gold eyes when that sneer broke into a feral smile that could only be made more animal by sharp teeth.

"I want to talk about this like a 'north lady'..." She gave a hiccup of a giggle as she mocked his word choice, reaching a finger towards his nose to draw a line from the bridge to the bulb if he'd let her touch him before withdrawing her hand, fingers wiggling in the empty space as if considering a new place of attack. "Do you understand?" She tilted her head, backing up one step and then three - announcing exactly what she meant by a crack of her knuckles. "Fisticuffs."

She was already prepared, her entire body language said so with the arch of her shoulders and set of her jaw. Indeed, she was alive with an inner electricity shrieking for a chance at unbridled release.

[Ifrit]

Ifrit gazed at her at length, the same calm expression on his face, the same gentle puffing on his shisha mix. He watched her as she moved, seeing her agility and her ease of motion. Though he was particularly curious about what she was so angry about. Perhaps it was just her nature. To be certain, he could understand that, truly.

He looked at her as she got closer, setting the pipe hose down next to him as the water rushed nearby. As she hissed at him, he folded his hands in front of his body, crossed over his bent knees. The man seemed to observe everything about her, her eye colors and her sneer, her demeanor and motion, even the way her muscles moved under her skin.

The foreigner didn't make a move as she touched him, and definitely didn't change position as she mocked him for how he spoke. He raised an eyebrow at her, looking at her muscles tensed and poised as she sought a chance to blow off steam, or generate new steam. He shook his head and chuckled softly.

"Well, I am uncertain why of all things you would approach a foreign man openly wearing weapons to a duel of the fist, but I assure you that my desires for landing blows on anyone unprovoked are quite low and even less on a younger North lady." He picked up his hose and looked at her once more. "Why spoil the time of smoke and relaxation with fighting anyways?" The man puffed at length on his mix.