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[hider=Earlier]
Kajin’s cheeks puffed out irritably as he stormed from the room, eyes red and watery from crying. The door slammed shut behind him―Kajin was not proud to admit it took him a few tries. It was a very heavy door and he was small! This was a city of Lalafells, you’d think they’d be more considerate.―and he stormed off, purposely making his footsteps as loud as he could until he turned the corner. Papajin had a few choice words for his little sibling that circumnavigated his authority and apparently thought threatening to have Mom fetch him would be enough to get Kajin to back down. Not only had Kajin already wrote Mom estactically about his new plans but she’d completely supported the idea. Not everyone could sit behind a desk and read reports day in and day out. Kajin joined to help people. Not let his skills gather dust on a shelf somewhere in an archive. Their [i]discussion[/i], as Papajin’s missive worded it, consisted of little more than the elder Lalafell chasizing Kajin for his recklessness and telling him outside the walls of Ul’dah wasn’t safe and he wasn’t ready to blah, blah, blah. Papajin didn’t appreciate someone replacing his words with those and things got heated, things were said, and feelings got hurt.

Well, Papajin’s at least.

As soon as the Lalfell turned the corner, the angry stomping and the pout vanished. A smug grin replaced the pouting and a little bounce entered his step as he whistled his way out of the Arrzaneth Oustuary. He pulled a small clear bottle from his robes and flipped it as he walked. Eye Drops. An excellent tool for flushing your eyes of sand when traversing Thanalan and, if you were like the Lalafell and hated anything in your eyes, a perfect way to start crying. He knew that conversation wouldn’t be pleasant so Kajin took some... preparations. Hopefully Papajin will feel guilty in a few months and Kajin can come back to rub in his brothers face what a successful adventurer he was. Not mature enough to leave home. That chocobo’s backside had no idea what he was talking about and Kajin would prove it.

[color=FF00A6]“Hm, hm, hm… another family fued, Kakajin?”[/color] The bottle crashed to the ground as Kajin jumped and fumbled for the drops, the Duke of Destruction grinning at the display as returned from whatever business took him away earlier. Cocobuki was no stranger to the younger Lalafell’s antics. Papajin and Kajin regularly butted heads and Cocobuki more than once stepped in the middle when staves came out. [color=FF00A6] “You should give him more credit. He only wants you safe. The life of an adventurer is anything but.”[/color] 

[color=f49ac2]“Safe is boring! Observations, records, and learning are all only useful if you use them. He wants me to sit around all day and do nothing. He can do that himself!”[/color] Kajin retorted heatedly. [color=f49ac2]“I want to see all the things I’ve read about, I want to challenge myself, I want to learn new things, I want to eat new things! I can’t do that here.”[/color] Kajin sighed, the irritation bubbling at Cocobuki’s statement fading away. He shouldn’t get upset with the guildmaster. Despite his teachings needing a little tweaking to fit Kajin’s advanced thaumaturgy, Cocobuki kept Kajin’s skills from eroding over the few years he’d been trapped in this city. Not that he didn’t love Ul’dah but everything looked like a cage when you didn’t want to be there.

[color=FF00A6]“And absolve a family sin?”[/color] The guildmaster supplied. Cocobuki laughed with a fond shake of the head as Kajin nodded firmly. [color=FF00A6] “You can’t suffer the weight of the past forever and there are more ways to help others than being involved directly but when you have the power to do so, I have to agree. Now go on, its nearly your meeting time. Walk well in the abyss, Kakajin Nanajin. Use wisely what you find there.”[/color] [/hider]

Kajin popped out of his room at the hourglass, taking a moment the place he’d called home for the past three years. Hopefully everything would go smoothly and if they did, it would be the last night he’d stay. A twinge of sadness raced through him, almost enough to change his mind. He’d grown attached to the little spot in the corner when the wood creaked if it got too windy, the slight space underneath the window where the wood warped so sand got in sometimes, and the scorch mark he’d left (and personally paid to have replaced now that he was leaving) after the first fight with his brother when he arrived. There were so many things about this room he’d miss, even the things he loathed, but he knew when he made his choice this would happen. It was the price of change. Not one he cared to pay but one that must be nevertheless. With a flourish of his staff, he turned away from the closed door and made his way into the bustling Quicksand.

A familiar aroma made Kajin’s nose twitch and his belly grumble. The Quicksand was known for one thing out of all of Ul’dah: Buttered Crumpets. And they were just made fresh. He paused at the bottom of the steps from the Hourgalss, closing his eyes as he sniffed the air. In his three years here, he’d managed to learn the differences between most of the batches made and the ones Papasu made. She knew just how much butter to put in them. And by that, he meant she put as much butter as she could without ruining the recipe. He’d missed her last batch a few days ago but this time he’d feast. The thought made Kajin’s mouth water and he bolted for his favorite person, unabashedly smacking the blumbering people’s ankles as they got to close. They should keep a look out for him so a bruise would be a helpful reminder. He skidded to a halt just as Papasu finished bringing a round of drinks to a table.

[color=f49ac2]“Four please!”[/color] Kajin shouted excitedly, practically vibrating at the thought of the crumpets. Papasu glanced at him confused for a moment and then laughed, patting Kajin on the head.

[color=07B0B4]“Aye, aye, Kakajin. I figure you’ll take a mint lassi or two as well?”[/color] Kajin held up two fingers and then shuffled around in his coin purse for the gil. She took the coin and nodded. [color=07B0B4] “Your normal spot is a little crowded so I won’t shoo you down if you sit on the edge. Don’t need you getting stomped on in all this ruckus.”[/color] Kajin stuck his tongue out at her but took her advice. The advertisement drew more people at this time than normal and Kajin was a bit on the short side. All it would take was a few people getting too rowdy and Kajin would be flatter than a marmot steak.
He knocked his heels against the little wall as he leaned against the railing, watching everyone get settled in. He thanked Papasu when she passed under with a tray and slid his order next to him and he munched on the crumpet. He sighed happily as it practically melted in his mouth, the smoothness soothing the building ache in his chest. It was just another thing he would be leaving behind, the familiar warmth of the Quicksand and the food it offered. Between his time with the adventuring guild and his responsibilities for the Eyes, he doubted he’d have as much free time as he’d enjoyed up until recently. A little voice that sounded suspiciously like his brother piped up in the back of his mind, threatening an “I told you so” and Kajin quickly refocused on the scene in front of him as a Hyur addressed the room.

[center][color=fff79a]In fact, I actually need help from you…[/color][/center]

Kajin paused mid-sip at the phrase. He’d picked it up to give her a moment of privacy while she spoke, clearly distressed at what he could only assume was a loss. His own memories of the Calamity were stressful, full of horror and frustration and despair as they rushed around Eastern Thanalan saving as many people as they could from the chaos the world descended into, but personally he hadn’t lost anyone but he didn’t have to imagine. Day after day, he’d seen and heard as people's worlds were buried in the sand, as everything they thought they could believe in and trust were purified in ice and lightning and fire. Sometimes he could still hear the wailing. It was why he didn’t go home very much anymore.

He would have helped even if she hadn’t asked for it but all it took was that one phrase and he would throw everything he could behind her. His family was sworn to do it, an ancient oath that anyone who learned their arts took before their teachings, and all it took was a simple request and they would follow without hesitation. The weight of their shame fell on their shoulders. Only repenting would see the family happy in the afterlife. He raised his glass with the rousing exchange, piping in with an ecstatic [color=f49ac2]“Aye, aye!”[/color] when the Miqo'te ended his rousing little speech.

And then the Pajdal spoke. Kajin literally spat out his drink at the sight of him, double a double take and then rubbing his eyes. He stared at the milk and mint drink for a long moment, squinting suspiciously. He didn’t smell anything out of place, it was refreshing and delicious as usual, but there was absolutely no way a Padjal was here. In Thanalan. They [i]never[/i] left the Shroud. He tossed back the rest of his first drink, grabbed his last crumpet and his other cup, and inched closer. He’d heard stories of them, of ageless children working the wonders of White Magic, of children of the forest able to converse and quell nature’s anger with little more than a whisper. When he first heard of them, a barrage of questions spilled out of him mouth. They defied the very nature of aether, resisted the natural call of the aether of mortal souls back unto its basic form, and yet they existed much longer than they ought. Why did they live so long? How did they live so long? Did they consider their existence hypocritical as it broke the very cycles they sought to preserve? He’d never thought too long on them. After all, he didn’t have a subject to study, no one to discuss the finer points with.

But that all changed now. 

Kajin scooted closer, hopping onto the pile of boxes and barrels that always seemed to crowd the back of the seating areas and down onto the floor with practiced ease before making his way to the Padjal’s table. He munched on his food, situation momentarily forgotten, as he took the time to just observe with wide, sparkling eyes. He wanted to touch but he would wait until after the meeting at the very least.