nikola tesla

You would think wearing glasses would give someone enough sight to see the obvious. 

Her outfit was so against any uniform they might have… it was simply annoying. Too annoying for this hour. Before she knew it, she was ‘trapped’ by the annoyance. What a pain. 

“So it is. And it currently holds my… cat, wouldn’t it be theft to keep my cat within your walls?”

Ruan Mei doubted logic would reach her but it was worth a try. Or not, could just lead to a bigger headache. Though, something rather strange happened before Ruan Mei’s eyes. Hm, those droplets… they would be considered tears, was the box that important? Well, she wasn’t in the habit of causing too many to cry. On most occasions.

She snatched the box from the ground, forcing herself not to tear it to pieces. Nikola wanted to give up the fight. Yes, she wanted to say. Jump out the fucking window and leave me alone. Mophead would surely chastise Nikola if she found out. That was impulsive, Mophead would say. Idiotic, and isn’t that expected, Miss took-twenty-years-to-finish-a-doctorate?

Nikola shook it off. Mophead wouldn’t say that. She would be disappointed, though, if she let this person just leave. It was all so suspicious. That thing on the woman’s head was not a cat. What if it was a surveillance device? What if this was the setup for a larger operation? It’s not like Anti-Entropy was without enemies just because they no longer rivaled Schicksal. In fact, even within Schicksal there were people who didn’t like them. She sucked in a breath.

Before she could actually do anything, though, the other slammed the door almost completely shut. 

She sighed. A headache was coming on from this. Maybe she should give the other one of her specially designed treats… Unfortunately, she’d left those behind. She wasn’t supposed to get involved in the experiment itself after all. 

Massaging her temples, Ruan Mei opened the door. She ignored the redhead’s presence and went straight to the annoying racket made by the Trash Catcake. Sealed up in a box, the catcake refused to give up when it would do everyone here some good if it did. 

At least it’s easy to find.

“I will be taking it back now. Thank you for your time.”

“‘Th-thank you for your time?’” Nikola repeated, sputtering. “No, no no. Give that back.” She stood up, sending her seat teetering back and forth before it gave up its fight and clattered to the floor. “And give me your work ID too, I think we need to have a talk.”

She dashed in front of the door, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glaring at the intruder. “That’s my box, by the way, and I won’t tolerate theft.” Not that she cared about the box, but her fury was a boiling lake of acid in her stomach, a rubber band stretched nearly to snapping. Her legs quivered from their tenseness.

Nikola’s eyes flicked to her computer screen as it lit up, indicating the arrival of a new email. Another email, that she would have to respond to, after dealing with this mess, and before responding to the six more emails she was sure to get within that time. And then tomorrow, when she was supposed to have the day off, she’d probably be called in, like always. It was endless work. She was way past retirement age and she wished she had aged, that she could be done with work and eventually done with life, but this was the eternal hamster wheel she had earned.

   It was different, compared to how biting her skin felt when they had been on Belobog. Back then it was still as inviting as her skin felt now, only at that point it was an invitation that felt reminiscent of Hyperborean winters, rather than the reminiscence of Okhema’s warm embrace that Cerydra felt now. Cerydra basked in that warmth, allowing her thumb to run against the dorsal of Nikola’s hand. She was radiant, in outfit choice and warmth, and for a moment there was a curiosity of whether or not Cerydra was worthy of someone putting up this much effort for her, of all people. 

   Bowing, Cerydra’s lips pressed against NIkola’s hand, and for the fleeting moment she allowed herself to linger, and for her senses to take in all that was necessary, and all that she wanted. Nikola’s scent was sweet, another sign of the effort she put forth for today’s outing. It was something that made Cerydra feel as though this date had been worth its weight in gold, regardless of what they may find themselves up to next. But, they had plans, and such plans could not be wasted on kissing the back of another’s hand. Standing upright, Cerydra smiled – “that was for your letter. Thank you for thinking of me, but I hope you understand that my answer remains to be as such; you are more than enough of a present.”

   Still holding onto Nikola’s hand, the smallest part of the Imperator’s core fearing that if she let go, this date would be over in a snap, Cerydra turned to the various book stalls. “Now, we’re to do a book crawl, yes? Would you care to tell me what it is you’re interested in reading? I’d love to hear you speak more on your various interests, if you’ll allow me to listen.”

It took her a good thirty seconds to recalibrate. Nikola didn’t do romance, she didn’t believe in it like she believed in other types of love. She thought this was a casual date with someone she wasn’t involved with, with no plans to become involved, but it seemed, like usual, she had misjudged. That or Cerydra was simply like this with her friends—I’ll have to set some fucking boundaries, if so—and this meant nothing and her hot blush was presently embarrassing her even more than she thought.

Nikola squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, hoping action would return to her if she could stop looking at Cerydra’s face, at that smirk that promised she’d be led on an imaginary leash like a dog if she couldn’t get a hold of herself now.

“Yeah…book crawl…” she croaked. The words scraped out of her mouth like they were made of blades, and Nikola tried to surreptitiously clear her throat. “Uh, thanks for the…the compliment. You too.” 

Nikola looked around to see if anyone had been watching, avoiding Cerydra’s intense gaze. She squirmed her hand out of her companion’s grasp and pulled her phone out from under her gauntlet. “I actually prepared a list of the sort of books I like! I don’t really expect them to sell any of them here, and I own most of them, but maybe it can give you an idea.” Unlocking her phone, she squinted at the notes, picking a few of the least embarrassing ones to read aloud. “Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar, as you might expect, the epic version of the Ramayana, Shelley’s Frankenstein, uh, Philip Pullman’s The Golden Compass…a bit of an eclectic collection, but I read things like that…”

She felt herself teetering over the edge of rambling, pulling back at the last minute to try to save herself the awkwardness of taking up too much airspace with the wrong person. 

   It was a completely different beast entirely to do all of this with romantic intention. 

   Of course, it was difficult to tell whether or not the fascination that steadily built-up surrounding her fiery new friend (@morescreentime) was mere respect or romantic attraction, but she did think that Nikola was endearing. Perhaps Cerydra simply appreciated a woman who knew what she was talking about, or a person who was utterly skilled in every way they could be. Goodness knows the Imperator had a storied history spanning ad infinitum with one such an individual. 

   Or perhaps, the Imperator was starved, in such a meaningful way that simply doing what the Xianzhou natives referred to as a ‘book crawl’ was her way of coming to grips with… something. And, Nikola was of the scientific sort as well. Perhaps Cerydra would be able to simply listen on as she speaks of whatever scientific boundaries the Xianzhou natives crossed. Anything to hear her voice, really; her words had been pleasing to the Imperator’s ear. So much so, that this date could very well end up being Cerydra listening, not so much as offering anything of significance to her words, and it would still have been a success in her heart. 

   But musing over how things could be when they haven’t happened yet was pointless. Cerydra arrives where they are meant to meetup, close by to a popular bookstore aboard the Xianzhou Luofu. She checked herself, ensuring that her outfit – different from the dress that Cerydra typically donned, now replaced with an outfit that even Dux Goldweaver would appreciate – had been okay. She had even gone out without her flaming crown; after all she was here as Cerydra of Hyperborea, rather than the Imperator of Amphoreus, the Monarch of Law. Frilly titles were meaningless, especially in the face of one who agreed to call Cerydra by simply… her name. 

   Now was the time to play a waiting game. Taking out her teleslate from her coat’s pocket, Cerydra began to stand idly, appearing busy in a way that wouldn’t spoil the book crawl to be; she didn’t want to get ahead of herself just yet.

Nikola felt too old. She was in her nineties, and had been rushing around her room frantically trying to pick out a dress for her date with a person so interesting they had to be in the highest of demands. She had narrowed it down between her old A-line dress from the 2000s and one from a couple of years ago that she had been taking to events. On one hand, she knew she looked stunning in the old one, but perhaps there was too much chest visible, and perhaps it was too frilly…but the second was practically an evening gown—far too fancy for a casual first date in the middle of the day. 

Her alarm went off for the third time in the past half hour, a recording of Mophead’s voice reminding her that tardiness was the devil’s hand or something of the sort, she had long since drowned it out as mere noise. She glanced at the time on her phone, tossed haphazardly on her bed on top of a pile of unchosen garments, hissing through her teeth when she saw it. She had to be on the train in 45 minutes and here she was in her undersized chemise still undecided on clothes.

She tossed both candidates on the ground, grabbing the dress from the top of the discard pile. It had been her third choice—she thought it perhaps too simple, when Cerydra would surely show up in something perfectly elegant and fitting, but Nikola always believed it was best to err on the side of simplicity. Complexity was for mechs, not clothing.

She pulled the dress, an amaranth piece with a high waist and a light circle skirt that tickled her thighs as she moved, over her chemise. Tugging on a pair of white stockings and slipping into comfortable black Mary Janes, she grabbed her off-white handbag and practically ran out the door, her hair, brushed out and undone, waving behind her. It was a youthful look, Nikola mused, perhaps not the sort of image she was going for, and perhaps in poor taste at her age, but importantly, it was complete and it was fast.

First a train ride, using technology even she, the prodigy, didn’t understand, took her to the Xianzhou Luofu in nearly no time at all. She caught her breath as she traveled, resting on the bright cushions that lined the sides of her car, twirling her hair through her fingers and trying to plan for possible scenarios. 

She wouldn’t be late, or if so, barely, but what if that was too much, and Cerydra found it offensive? What could Nikola do then? Confidence and status might save her back home, but Cerydra radiated security while Nikola’s neuroticism was visible to anyone with the courage to look too long. That wouldn’t work. Maybe an apology would do.

And what if she seemed uneducated? She probably was, having barely been off her planet, knowing nothing about the ship or its books. Perhaps Cerydra saw her as someone more like Mophead, able to somehow instantly make sense of any situation. Nikola found it inevitable that she would disappoint Cerydra somehow, anyway, so this wasn’t too much of a concern. The question was only what she would do when it happened.

As soon as the train reached its stop, Nikola sat up and almost sprinted for the doors. Nearly no time wasn’t the same as none, and she had a matter of minutes to make it to the bookshop on a ship she had never visited. Pulling her gauntlet out of her handbag and turning it on, not even bothering to wear it, Nikola pulled up a map of the ship. Her destination was down a lot more stairs than it was up. Relieving. She skipped down all the flights of stairs two at a time, holding her hair away from her eyes with the back of her hand.

The light was dimmer here than where she had disembarked. Whatever environmental controls they were using, it created a beautiful effect. The dark blue of the clouds contrasted with the glowing orange lights of the shops, and Nikola imagined that if she were a painter she would have no choice but to create a masterpiece, and, of course, Cerydra would be the centerpiece. 

Nikola forced her steps to slow as she gazed at her date for a moment. The light from her phone bathed her face in a subtle blue, matching the shadows cast by the sky. The yellow of the lamps backlit her in a way that made it seem like she herself was glowing, a projection of flesh and color and movement.

The incessant number of failed escapes from the Trash Cake was something to marvel at. And incredibly annoying. At least the noise was drowned out as the door shut. 

“I believe you have something of mine,” Ruan Mei began, taking a step back so as to give the other some space. Whatever project this one was working on could wait, or she could file a request at a later date. One that Ruan Mei would never agree to but that wasn’t important. 

“My…” hm, what would be the closest approximation on Earth? “Cat, where is it?”

The redhead stalked up to the stranger, an angry ball of fire. She hoped she looked imposing despite her shorter height, that her name would precede her. “I better see you groveling if you want to keep your job.”

She reached back and opened her office door just to dash in and slam it in the woman’s face like she should have done initially. It bashed against the frame but refused to click closed, swinging open just slightly before finding a balance.

She wasn’t going to keep the cat thing, she absolutely didn’t want it, but the woman would have to go through proper channels. Nikola would bring it to the reception’s lost-and-found after taking sufficient video for inspiration, and the woman would provide her name to get the thing back, and Nikola could make sure she could never ruin her day again. Nicely. Officially. 

She sat down on her chair, hunching over and resting her face in her hands. This was exhausting. Other people were the last thing she wanted to deal with right now. The noise the cat thing was making made Nikola really tempted to just hand it over and be done with the affair, but her bitterness was the presiding emotion and it’s not like her day would get much less exhausting until after she got home. It was still morning.

   Cerydra is brought out of these thoughts, as Nikola calls her to attention, and all she does is continue to follow as she already had been. Though, now that the Imperator pays closer to Nikola’s body language, she realizes that the Doctor shivers. ‘Hm, this weather is biting, that’s true.’ Cerydra, shuffling closer to Nikola, begins to push her cloak open. “Nikola would you like to joi-” 

   But, she is cut off by a question of literacy, and her curiosity causes the Imperator to face the sign in question. Though, as she tries to read it, it becomes clear (rather quickly at that) that the written language of Jarillo-VI differs substantially from that of Amphoreus. “Unfortunately, no, I do not. It would seem that Jarillo-VI’s- or at least Belobog’s- written language differs from my own. However…” Her eyes trail away from the sign, following where each place would lead. Up ahead, she could vaguely see the Museum’s impressive structure- and people heading in that direction in rather proper regalia. “It really would seem that the Museum might be a good call for our drinking needs… After all, I do also believe they host a party after hours.”

Cautiously, Nikola crept closer to Cerydra’s side, close enough to brush shoulders as they walked. Even from the outside, her cloak was warm, and Nikola was tempted to just grab onto Cerydra’s shoulder and keep some of the warmth for herself.

She observed the small crowd beginning to filter into the museum for the evening festivities. People had dressed up, and she began to feel a little self-conscious about her rather drab outfit, created for warmth and nothing else. With someone as well-dressed and magnetic as Cerydra by her side, she was sure to stand out in comparison. But her companion was right, this was the best place to go to get warm, and it served alcohol which was better than no alcohol. She hoped it would host more pleasant company than before, although spending time with a…friend would make it a lot harder for miserable people to ruin the experience.

Nikola smiled a soft smile to herself as they started to reach the crowds. If only Mophead could see her now, out with a friend, being herself, being happy. She could free herself from the shackles of her mind any time, don’t you see? Even if her heart was always heavy and her vision always clouded, her life would go on and she’d enjoy it.

Ah. Ruan Mei was beginning to understand the situation. Depending on the objective, the redhead was likely to keep Trash Cake. She glanced at the log so far. While this was undoubtedly quite interesting, she was in no mood to lose experiments because of some scientist’s curiosity. 

The chance of Trash Cake being kept for months… Was this one experiment worth that much? Enough to prevent future experiments with Trash Cake? She shook her head, sighing. The answers to those questions were obvious. I’d almost prefer another meeting about the Simulated Universe. 

Whatever, she took a photo of the sticky note she’d just placed.  

“End log, experiment conclusion: to be added. Reminder: in two days, go over Regular Earth Lifeform 0027’s response before interference.”

[Log Complete] [Reminder added]

Now, to meet this possible scientist and get her catcake back. Ruan Mei could feel a headache coming on from this. She’d learnt a bit of the interior of this building through observing Trash Cake, enough to easily get from the entrance to the office. 

Trash Cake was able to quickly scurry through when others were entering the building, she doubted she could do the same thing. Hmmm… Ah. Ruan Mei blinked as she looked down, under her foot were some papers? She hummed, picking them up. This didn’t seem to be the same thing the redhead was working on, she looked ahead. Bingo. 

Smiling, she walked towards the entrance. A young woman was busy drinking coffee and speaking to someone (quite expressively) on her phone. Ruan Mei waited until the doors opened before she moved forward. “Excuse me. Were you the one who dropped this?” she quickly entered the building as she spoke, tapping the woman on the shoulder. 

A quick thanks (and a few curses under her breath) before scurrying off and Ruan Mei was in. Though, she didn’t think it was from herself but rather the sleep deprived state of that employee. Perhaps, she will give her some nice food later as thanks. Now. Back to the task at hand. 

So long as you kept your confidence with you, few looked at you with anything but slight surprise. Hidden in plain sight as they say. With this tactic in mind, Ruan Mei found herself in front of the redhead’s desk in only… ten minutes? From inside, she could hear the, no doubt, many attempts made by her Trash Cake to escape. 

Stomping forth to open the door, Nikola was prepared to give a speech about not interrupting her during work hours, or during off-hours, unless you were L.A. Einstein or Welt Yang or Nagamitsu or Overseer Theresa on a good day, this is part of everyone’s onboarding process, but as she turned the knob and pulled it open, she felt that this person wasn’t the usual confused employee.

The woman before her was dressed to the nines, reminiscent of the most impractical of Valkyrie battlesuits. Details upon details layered itself on her dress, and Nikola was almost offended by the fancy of it all. A string of pearls? Really? On a Friday morning? At a function, sure, but…Nikola forced herself to stop staring. She made eye contact, frowning at the stranger. “What are you doing here?” 

The universe was impossibly vast, full of countless worlds beyond Teyvat, and it was on one of those worlds Lynette found herself.

To draw less attention to herself she was wearing a disguise of sorts, just to hide her feline traits, a beret and a longer dress than usual, so she could hide her tail easier. It was winter luckily so she wouldn’t boil.

She watched the fast flowing river before her, the Thames people here called it. It was nothing compared to the waters of Fontaine, very few things could compare to the beauty of the terrestrial sea. She absently wished she had brought a Kamera, despite how often they broke on her, just so she could capture the atmosphere of this place, she supposed telling stories to the smaller kids of the house would have to do.

Lynette let her feet carry her through this strange city that reminded her so much of Fontaine, gliding from place to place before stopping out the front of a large establishment. Barberry headquarters. Apparently this place did luxury goods? She’d have to bring something home… Lyney always did like these sorts of things, and maybe they’d have some diving gear? Or toys for the children.

Lynette walked into the building, carefully inspecting a few items before coming to a conclusion.

The quality of these items was nowhere near worth the price they were going for!

Lynette’s ears twitched beneath the beret as she overheard other customers gossiping, something about a sharp decline in quality. Interesting.

Before Lynette could ponder much more on the matter, a locomotive screeched to a stop just outside the store, and when the doors swung open Lynette couldn’t help but watch from the corner of her eye.

Not fifteen minutes later, she pushed open the door of the black cab, pulling her suitcase from the other side. It got stuck between the seats, and she yanked it out with a yell. She carelessly tossed the driver a tip of a few bills from her wallet, wincing slightly as she noted the currency was euros. Deciding not to worry about it, she closed the door behind her and stepped onto the sidewalk.

The headquarters of the Barberry scammers were tall, but rather quaint in comparison to the glassy office skyscrapers she’d become used to in America. Made of stone and brick, it blended into the landscape of condos all around them well. Even with the store attached to it, it all seemed to present a subtlety that expected a passerby to look past it. Unfortunately for it, Nikola was looking.

She walked into the store purposefully, a little contraption at the top of the door letting out an electronic-sounding ring as she entered. She searched over the tops of racks of blouses and around mannequins holding skirts, paying no attention to the trash. All Nikola wanted to see was some way to get into the headquarters, or some employee room…

This notice will serve as an announcement of my plans after the closure of Gnostic Hymns. Information regarding all three of my current muses is here!

Rarely was Furina one to do a play as large as this, a musical no less. She much preferred a smaller cast and crew. But when inspiration strikes, you go for it. Which led her to now. Sitting upon a box of fabric scraps she watched costumes be clipped and sewn into shape, carefully listening to her practicing singers. She had handpicked them, of course. Yet so much can go wrong, no?

Her heterochromatic eyes fell upon her lead. Red hair, glasses, clearly not from Teyvat. But she had blown Furina away with her voice. Not like there was much competition. Why do a musical of an opera if you can just perform in a normal one? It made her choices slim. Had the red outlander not showed up she’d be going with some girl with a raspy voice.

It was beautiful. But not ‘Christine’ beautiful.

But a good director always finds a way!

And so Furina did. In the form of Tesla de …. somewhere. Furina didn’t ask where she came from. A good director could see the worth in anyone, no matter homeland.

Her heels clacked upon the floors as she approached the woman. A gloved hand takes her bare one, bringing it to her lips with a gentle kiss. “Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you'll want me with you here beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too.” Furina mutters her character’s line into the crisp air of their practice space. It was unheard of on Teyvat’s theater scene for a woman to play The Phantom. But no one would ever question Furina’s expertise.

Furina raised her head with a giggle. “So, what did you think? Was my performance excellent? Do be honest. We’ll be on Fontaine’s biggest stage after all, Mademoiselle Tesla. We can’t afford a lackluster performance.” The group was lucky an opera singer had fallen sick and had to cancel. Even if their prep time was cut short. “Hear that everyone? We have to put on a total showstopper! Let the people look in awe at how we turned such a group into the best play Teyvat has ever seen!” The director stepped onto the box she previously sat upon, hands on her hips. “Even if Fontaine is known for its opera, we’re going to set a new standard! Together, all of us!”

Furina extended a hand to her lead. “My dearest Christine, would you join me upon this stage?”

The fact that The Phantom of the Opera was a musical here as well was a strange occurrence, perhaps, one that she might be inclined to research, but she was on vacation, God damn it, and research wasn’t of any interest to her. Mentally, she chalked it up to this world being a bubble universe of sorts, if perhaps more stable and unique than she was used to. Maybe it was a very old one, still in some ways tied to the main Earth, enough to follow along its history to the smallest extent. The fact that nobody had been able to tell her who wrote it, though, made her think that perhaps it was instead the result of something leaking through to an independent universe. Maybe a Sea drifter had performed it at some point. Maybe Schrödinger would know something about it…Nikola shook the thoughts out of her head. I’m on vacation, stupid brain! 

Still holding Furina’s hand, Nikola took a quick bow, just to see how it felt. There were so many eyes on her (okay, they were on Furina, but it looked just the same) and the nerves of it all mixed with her excitement in a thrilling cocktail perfectly suited for the stage. As long as there was a cast party with a lot of excellent wine after the opening, Nikola was sure this would go perfectly.

The lights flickered briefly as Nikola turned them on at the doorway before giving up and blinking out. Groaning to herself, she turned on the flashlight she had in her hand. If these were her lights, they would have worked just fine.

Everything, albeit coated in a thick layer of dust, was frozen in time. The bookshelves still missed the same books, their absence like a smile missing teeth. The royal blue couch, now faded, still sat isolated in the center of the room, Mophead’s throne no longer.

Nikola left her heavy rolling suitcase behind and walked further into the room, shining her flashlight up the white stairs, the paint on the walls peeling. She didn’t even consider going up there, flashing to the mess of discarded food and dirty laundry her room on the top floor was. Seventy years later, she shudders to think of what it would have become.

She shined her light into the oppressive darkness of the corridor to the right. Down here would be where they used to keep Ada, that ridiculous piece of old tech that always felt precious yet vexingly complicated to Nikola. She might pale in comparison to that bot from the bubble universe, but…Nikola would be lying if she said she didn’t miss her. Ada was never trouble.

Nikola stared down the corridor for a moment before turning around. She wasn’t really here to reminisce. No, she thought she’d just stop by for a little while she was in London on important business. Alone. Even just thinking about the reason she was here brought a blaze of fury to destroy her nostalgia. She didn’t waste any more time, grabbing her suitcase and marching out of the lab.

There were only so many hours in a work day, and Nikola had to figure out what was wrong with her latest shipment of Barberry goods in just a few of them. There was no other way to describe it. They were trash.

“Damned capitalism. Five thousand dollars and I get the crap I’d expect from fast fashion. Why on earth do I even spend money on this, might as well waste it on Arahato figurines…” Nikola muttered to herself as she pulled out her phone, opening her transport app and calling for a taxi deeper into the city. Right by the Thames, she noted as she pulled up the address for their headquarters. Damn the Thames, too. 

She put her phone down and waited by the curb outside the lab, staring at the trees, empty of leaves. She couldn't see much of a difference between a winter tree and a dead tree, so they all looked dead to her. A biting cold gust of wind blew her hair into her mouth, and she screeched with surprise and mild pain as her suitcase rolled into her boots and crashed down on top of them. “Fuck!”

   A chuckle escapes Cerydra’s lips, watching onward as the Doctor flashes her wallet, presumably full of Credits (or whatever similar for her), then her chuckle grows to a steady (yet calm) laughter, watching as the Doctor began to flounder around, a search for identification – ‘a form of permission to purchase alcohol? The Imperator is above such trivialities.’ – and when Nikola successfully pulls out her identification (after shouting obscenities in an unfamiliar language), Cerydra offers light applause. “Then let us be off. Shall we?” 

   A short walk towards the city gates, feet crunching beneath the snow as the cloak that Cerydra kept herself wrapped beneath offers its warmth from the cold. She is uncharacteristically silent, unable to find words to break the moment as the two individuals make their way back to Belobog. The crunch of the snow offers more than what mere words could do, at least that’s what Cerydra thought ever briefly. 

   But she can’t remain silent forever – especially when they draw closer to the city gate. “Where should we go about purchasing ale? I don’t presume a sort of tavern would be far beyond our expectations? I don’t suppose there are shops around the city that sell ale on the go- at least not ones doing so openly?” She scoffs, and places a hand on her other hip. It isn’t mocking, rather it is a sort of idle stance – one taken as her steps come to a stop, now standing before the city gate with her new friend. Then, she presumes a new idle stance, one where her arms are crossed awaiting steps to follow. 

Nikola pulled her coat tighter, trying to smother the bottom half of her face in the collar alongside her ramblings. “Anyway.” The fabric muffled her voice to near unintelligible levels. “We’ll find something.” She thought she could feel her hand start to tremble. “Come on, no need to dawdle.”

She stepped forward, trying to project confidence even while the cold bit at her more and more every moment. The holes in her coat were starting to get to her, ice-cold wind on skin already angry from burns wasn’t the nicest feeling. Maybe the museum tavern would be good enough because it was closer. Nikola just wanted to be inside…and drinking…maybe she could ask a local. Maybe she should have thought of doing that while they were still being warmed by the fire…