Outside the Tea House, Bright and Early!

The mage may have said something about wanting to sleep in, but there was no way such a feat could have been possible for her. Whatever rest Calanthe got was disturbed often. Cal would wake up almost periodically on her own, or at any shift of the building's foundation. She was not exactly bothered by her sleeping habits anymore; it was just inconvinient. The woman rubbed her eyes when she awoke again and sighed, sweeping her arm over her eyes. Daylight filtered through the thin window from the adjacent wall of her room, and she willed herself to rise with the sun.

Her thick hair was mussed from her sleep, but Calanthe did not make an effort to fix it as anything past presentable. She combed her fingers through her hair until it was all flowing in one general direction, its loose curl (and some water from her flask) hiding a bit of the frizz. Dressing didn't take long, as all she had removed the night prior was her leather armour. As Cal recollected her bag from the floor beside her bed, her thoughts were drawn back to the previous evening and the group she had acquired. Was she really going through with this?

As long as I don't end up in...

Tevinter. The leather cord around her neck hung taut, weighed down by the silver serpant that was strung upon it. Calanthe took the item into her hand and rolled it in between her fingers. What was she afraid of?

Calanthe hid the pendant from view, safely tucked under her vest and tunic, and grabbed her staff from the wall. She left the room, descended down the stairs, and gave one last look to all of the colorful boilers and strong, wooden tables of the tea house. She liked tea, she discovered here. Well, certain teas. But it was "real" tea. "Fancy" tea. She would have to try it again someday...

Calanthe found her first acquaintance right outside the tea house--sharpening daggers, no less, and humming while she did so. It shouldn't have been an unsettling sight, but it almost served as a warning. You don't know them, Cal cautioned herself internally. You don't know what you can trust. She approached the woman with a small smile.

"Your hair!" Calanthe grinned, gesturing to the additional glitter in Amara's braid. "I love what you've done with it."

Cato yawned wide as he pushed himself out of the bed - he found it much more to his liking than fields or forest floors, covered with bugs and leaves and branches. Apparently, his coin had been plenty enough to get him a comfortable bed, and a hot meal placed upon the small counter top next to said feathery and well pillowed mattress. After nibbling his way through a pastry topped with thick apricot preserve and another tea (this one floral and citrusy, and somehow perfect to wake up with) he tossed off the clothes he had used as travel wear and scrubbed himself free of dirt in the small washroom - complete with hot water. He sighed contentedly, combing the knots from long white hair and finally digging into his heavy pack. He had only squirreled away the essentials in his flight from Tevinter of course, so naturally he pulls out his sweetest perfume and small make up tin. Appropriately dabbed with the subtle scent (just the slightest hint of lilac and sandalwood), he sets to work on make up; the red eye shadow smeared beneath his lower lash line making the blood orange of his irises all the more apparent.

Content he picks out his only other clothes; a simple cotton shift in a dark red fabric with threaded edges in a deeper crimson, with a matching sash about his middle and loose pants in a washed out black. Comfortable and assuredly stylish he ties his hair in a ponytail, folds away the remainder of his things spread across the bed (bracelets and bands, jewellery that had been purchased when his troupe had earned that kind of coin and other pieces that had been gifted by enamoured magisters, as well as a few choice pieces he had stolen on his way out) and sets out down the stairs. He had taken his halberd upstairs with him last night and struck an intimidating figure when he emerged from the staircase much to the wide eyed alarm of the staff on opening duty. He gave them a curt nod and shifted himself out the door, feeling much better than he had the night prior.

Also, freezing as soon as the wind struck his still warm skin, and he could barely withold the shudder.

He blinks in the sunlight, surprised he had risen as early as he had and as he casts about for his small band of companions, he nearly stumbles head first into.. another.. qunari.

Its only at the last minute that he stops his jaw from dropping, and satisfies himself with a surprised blink.

He'd caught the tail end of the conversation, and he notes her accentuation of certain words - just the slightest bit Nevarran, as his own was Tevene. She was styled in no typical qunari dress, her outfit immaculate and styled after human fashions of what he assumed the country. She had short, neat curving upright horns, and she was possibly the first of his kind he had seen who was not sporting a huge axe and an angry expression.

"I believe they may have just opened - though try not to make any sudden movements. I think my appearance seemed to startle some of the servers," He interjects with a polite smile and a smattering more confidence than he had been feeling yesterday. After all, it was a new day - he had already met and befriended one Ben hassrath. If she turned out to be another, or simply someone defected from the Qun, she posed little threat to him at all. After all, Cal and Amara were already standing before her.

The sudden appearance of a qunari threw Anthy off guard. It wasn't often she encountered them. Mostly, because she actively tried not to on the oft chance they were apart of the qun. Plus, she had interrupted her conversation with the ladies... She eyed him with suspicion. He was kinda cute... for a qunari. She didn't like it when people's height rivaled hers. Though he still wasn't taller, if we're not counting horns, it still did little to ease her comfort. That's what this was about anyway, her comfort.

With the appearance of yet another man, Anthy almost sighed in exasperation. Men were such handfuls, honestly. Sometimes it was worth it but usually it was not. However, there was a chill in the air that cut harshly and she wanted some of that damn tea. Tea, was almost always better with company.

"Well, kittens, if it's open then I see no reason to stand out in the cold." She smiled warmly before motioning her hands for the others to go first.

One day, Amara mused, she wouldn't have to look up at everyone. Sighing she nodded to Cal, running a hand over her braid and sighed. "I thought they would look nice. Thank you," she smiled graciously, stiffening slightly at the appearance of a Qunari. That wasn't the one she was expecting. She seemed interested in speaking to Cal, and she looked her over carefully. No, no those are human clothes. Even Ben Hassrath wouldn't go so far as to dress like a shem.

"Shanedan," She greeted, a bit wary. Looking over at Cato she offered a tight smile and sighed. No, this climate was too cold for that. They'd have to go back to the market. Hopefully someone would have clothes that fit him. Or at the very least some armor. "Cato," she greeted, eyeing the elf once again. So he was a Circle Mage. That explained somethings, why he seemed so naive to the world. But where was his keeper?

Glancing at Cal and Cato, she frowned at the Qunari's invitation and tilted her head. "Do you two require breakfast?" She asked, ignoring her hunger. She had travel food in her bag, and she was used to eating on the road. "Or would you like to head to the market, find some warmer clothes?"

Shifting her weight slightly, Amara tried not to bristle at the word "kitten".  She'd been called worse things, by worse people, but pet names never sat well with her. Perhaps the association of wandering hands that went with it. "Cato is that vitaar on your face? If it is, you're going to need more. Though maybe not til we leave the city."

Anthy blinked. Wasn't everyday she heard someone state proudly and loudly that they were an apostate, but it wasn't like she was a Templar looking to hunt down mages. She let out a small laugh when the elf spoke directly to her, adorable. She was meeting so many cute people today, her favorite kind of people.

"My clothes have been custom made to accommodate my size. So if I move around my sleeves will not burst off my arms, to the disappointment of many I'm sure." Anthy chuckled in response. She shifted her body weight letting her lean a bit closer to him, but not invading his space. Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "And I wasn't too worried that you were a maleficar. From what I heard they're supposed to be very scary, you're far too cute for that, surely."

Eon squawked and blushed a vivid red, ears twitching in embarrassment and a pout on his face. "C-cute? You think I'm cute???" He managed to say, easygoing persona slipping as he covered his face with his hands. He'd not been called cute before. Childish, innocent, yes. Cute? No. He nodded as Cal spoke, face still ridden and ears still scarlet. "I'm an apostate cause I escaped before the accord shit happened." Eon mumbled around his fingers, peeking out from between them. The ground at his feet was starting to frost, ice spreading in spiraling patterns in response to his emotions.

Cato snorted and waved away Amara's suggestion.

"I don't have any vitaar. This is simply aesthetic," Though he feels a little silly having to explain it, he stands firm to his decision. Eyeshadow was always the appropriate choice for an adventure.

Then he looks a little guiltily between the two of them; "I've actually, uh, already eaten. I'd had breakfast in my quarters - I'm sorry, I didn't realize?" He remembers the time his troupe had broken fast together while travelling, and then at magister's tables. They hadn't always waited till everyone was present at the table, but nobody left till everyone had had their fill. He scuffs the ground with a foot looking the slightest bit sheepishly between them.

It was crowded in the little tea shop opening, but he glances at the elf - Eon - who was rather proudly announcing his status as a mage. Not exactly the safest route, if you didn't want to end up chased down by a rogue band of templar's, but perhaps custom was different here. From the vague amounts Cato knew he had assumed being a mage almost as dangerous as being a convicted criminal. He shudders a little at the thought.

Though at the mention of custom clothes from the other qunari, he perks a little. Even with the cotton shift he was freezing. Damn southern weather.

"You wouldn't happen to know where I might get something more.. qunari sized, around here?" He offers her a genial expression over the heads of everyone else - even if he was a smidgen shorter than her.