Charumati was glad it was one of her days off. Nirav had disappeared somewhere, as he did on occasion when the confines of indoor living grew too much for his mountain sensibilities. To tell the truth, as much as she liked the man she had truly come to think of as her adopted nephew, beyond the cover story she had developed for his sudden appearance in her life, it was nice to have the apartment to herself for a little while.

The weather outside was abysmal, but Charu was nice and comfortable in her apartment where the radiator kept the temperature a pleasant level; not cold, but not so warm one was in need of summer clothes. Instead of her customary work clothes, Charumati dressed for lounging about the house: Her long hair lay free of its customary shackles, hanging loose down her back. Her ivory blouse was tucked into a soft, triangle-cut, grey woolen skirt that fell in elegant drapes to just below her knees. Her legs were bare — she saw no point in wearing woolen or silk stockings for lounging about the house. Over her outfit, a simple pale green dressing gown in a kimono style and made of the customary silk.

Her face was done up modestly; instead of the formal look she normally wore, she simply wore the slightest bit of black kohl around her eyes; it was a plain look for her tastes but had the effect of making her look a few years younger than she actually was; part of the reason her style of cosmetics was so pronounced was because she, like other members of her family, never quite looked their age.

She had just finished her breakfast and was sitting down at the couch to drink her morning coffee when a knock sounded at the door. That was odd; Nirav never knocked. The knock was abrupt, and Charu felt herself tense. A small voice called out about a package, and Charu made her way to the door. Glancing through the peephole, she let out the breath she was holding. It was the artist from the other day.

Opening the door, Charumati greeted her with a small, warm smile.

"What dedication," she said softly, "to deliver in this weather." She took the package from her carefully. "Won't you come in, warm up a little before heading back out?"

Cheo smiled back at Charumati, noting her softer, more casual appearance, it was a good look for her, but she understood the need to keep up appearances. "What dedication to deliver in this weather." Cheo handed her the box, flushing a little. Or maybe that was the cold. "It's worth it seeing people's faces when they get their art." A gust of wind blew her hair into her face, she would not be looking forward to the walk back. "Won't you come in, warm up a little before heading back out?" Cheo looked at her like she was the firelord, and was giving Cheo her own personal dragon."T-thank you, i would like that very much." 'Aaand, you just became my favorite client' her mind helpfully added. she made sure to kick the snow and dirt off of her shoes before stepping inside. Looking around and appreciating the warmth starting to sink into her, she noted the absence of a person she had been half expecting to see. "Is your nephew out? I had hoped to meet him, he sounds like a nice kid."

Charumati stepped aside to allow the young woman to pass. "Yes, my nephew is out," she confirmed as she shut the door firmly to prevent any escape of warmth. "His parents raised him in a very spirited, nature-loving manner and he gets antsy when cooped up for too long." She turned and set the package down on the coffee table, shaking her head like an aunt long bothered. "He insists on going out in all sorts of weather, and as he's an adult I can't really do all that much to prevent him from going."

She sighed good-naturedly. "Nirav is a good boy, eager to learn the customs of the city, but he can find it a little overbearing."

"Please, sit," she added, gesturing to the sofa and armchairs. "Make yourself comfortable. I have hot coffee still in the percolator, do you want some?" The older woman moved into the kitchen without waiting for an answer, her woolen skirt swaying gently with the motion. Pulling a bright red tin out from her cupboard, she started loading up a small breakfast tray with some snacks.

"Yes, my nephew is out, His parents raised him in a very spirited, nature-loving manner and he gets antsy when cooped up for too long." Cheo chuckled at that, she was a bit like that herself. She followed Charumati further in, taking in every little detail as Charumat continued, "He insists on going out in all sorts of weather, and as he's an adult I can't really do all that much to prevent him from going."

Charumati sighed, to Cheo it sounded like an exasperated mother hen, "Nirav is a good boy, eager to learn the customs of the city, but he can find it a little overbearing." Cheo smiled and actually laughed, a gentle and airy laugh like a breeze running through leaves. "I can empathise with that, I'm no stranger to living in the open. Even after getting a home here in the city, i still get restless indoors quite often." Cheo sat on one of the sofas, running her fingers over it, and said yes to the offered beverage. She continued memorising the feel of the chair while she waited for Charumati to return. "Although i do like my creature comforts, and i am eternally grateful to whoever invented electrical heaters, but there is something stifling about the city. Sometimes i sleep on my balcony or on the roof just to be outside, and under the stars." She sighed, remembering the year and a half she spent without a roof over her head. She almost missed it, almost.

She poured her guest a cup of coffee, adding a small pitcher of cream and a bowl filled with sugar cubes to the tray, along with a tiny pair of steel tongs to pick up the cubes.

When she set the tray down on the coffee table in front of her guest, in addition to the coffee and coffee-related accoutrements, Charumati had placed several buttery shortbread cookies, some moon cakes, and sweet lotus mochi. "Help yourself," she said with another small smile, before sitting down in an armchair next to the sofa and taking a sip of her own (now tolerably less hot) coffee.

"I hope you don't mind hazelnut," she murmured. It was her personal favourite flavour, as it cut the inherent bitterness of coffee beans quite a bit.

After a few moments of quiet contented coffee-sipping, Charu addressed her visitor's comments. "There's a time and a place for the out-of-doors, I agree," she said amicably, "but my dear nephew goes a step further. The city itself is too much for him, as my relatives had decided to... ah, what is the phrase..." she paused for a moment, lost in thought. "Ah yes, 'return to nature' as the saying goes, and decided to set up camp in some remote wilderness." She waved an airy hand vaguely in the direction of the local mountains.

"To be clear, he's not my direct nephew." Charumati felt the need to elaborate, in case the artist ever ran across someone who knew her. "The child of a cousin several times removed, you know how it is." Many people, especially those with large families as commonly found in the Earth Kingdom, referred to indirect relatives as 'cousins' and 'aunts' and 'uncles' even if the technical truth was more complex.

Of course, none of what she was saying was entirely true to begin with. Of course, everything she said about Nirav's upbringing and personality were true, but their familial relationship was not.

Still, she had her share of extended family and could extrapolate enough. And truly, in the last few weeks, Nirav had become like a nephew to her. She taught him, they ate their meals together, and she was having a hard time imagining the eventuality of Nirav being able to live in the city on his own, should he choose to stay. While she enjoyed the occasional bouts of alone-time, having another person in the house made her normality solitary life a little less isolated and lonely.

"Forgive me," she said, tilting her head in apology. "I lost myself in thought. Before we continue, would you mind terribly telling me your name? I apologise if you've said it before, but I can't seem to recall it."

Cheo hummed in appreciation when she smelled the coffee, she recognised it as hazelnut, one of her favorites. She was usually a die-hard tea drinker, but she loved hazelnut coffee. As Charumati brought the tray over, and once she gave the 'help yourself', Cheo refrained from drooling long enough to add her preferred cream and sugar to her coffee. She would dig in to the sweets later. Blowing gently on her warm beverage, she let Charumati begin speaking first, it wouldn't do to control the conversation in someone else's home.

Cheo listened intently to Charumati talking about her nephew, nodding in all the right places, and giving an affirmative hum to show she understood. She had quite a few 'cousins','aunts', and 'uncles' herself. Quite a few of them making up the homeless population in the city. The rest of them were nomadic people or townsfolk she met on her way here. Cheo reached for a mooncake and began nibbling on it, and hurriedly tried to swallow and set it down as Charumati apologized and asked for her name.

She waved her free hand to dismiss the apology, "Oh, it's no trouble; I'm rather forgetful with names myself. My name is Cheo, Cheo Agnilaghu if you'd prefer my formal name." She knew that Charumati would notice the obvious discord between her names, most people did, and not a lot of people with green eyes had names that meant 'little fire', after all.

"It's a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, Cheo," the older woman replied. She noticed the unusual last name but said nothing; the most common explanation would be a mixed-heritage family, whether in the generation immediately preceding Cheo's birth or further back. The former would be more likely, considering that mixed-heritage families became incredibly common after the founding of the United Republic and the end of the Hundred Years' War.

And anyway, it wasn't as if Charumati had much to talk about with regards to surnames. Her family abandoned its original surname after the war, as it marked them too formally as Galgori as their peoples' villages were wiped out or overrun with non-Galgori occupants. They adopted a new one upon settling in the United Republic, but Charumati rarely used it socially — her surname appeared on legal records, financial statements — but never anywhere else. Her telephone number was unlisted, and she had no subscriptions to any services — the paper she received free, being an employee.

"I must say," she remarked after another brief silence, "you demonstrate considerable skill with your work." It was a skill Charumati appreciated. Being a master of the sword (so to speak) and a master of the pen or brush were not all that different. Each required patience, intense training, long hours, and dedication.

"Would you mind telling me how long you've been drawing, and what inspired you to work professionally?"    

Cheo grinned, "The pleasure is all mine, Charumati." She let the comfortable silence resume, alternating between her mooncake and coffee. She turned her eyes back to her host after a few moments of distractedness. "I must say, you demonstrate considerable skill with your work." Cheo shyly glanced away, an embarrassed flush creeping along her cheeks, accepting praise was something she'd never gotten very good at. She took another bite of cake to stop herself from saying anything stupid.

"Would you mind telling me how long you've been drawing, and what inspired you to work professionally?" She finished her current mouthful of cake, and took the time to think about her answer. "Not at all, I actually can't remember exactly when I started drawing, I know it was before I could talk. I would sit for hours outside my mother's house, drawing spirals and lines in the dirt with a stick. I do remember first using charcoal, I was about six years old, I took some from the fireplace and used it to draw on smooth stones I found in the river." She paused to take a drink, "The year after that, I discovered my bending, and I practiced it alongside my art, mostly to balance rocks in odd ways. With my sculpting, I actually dont use my bending at all, it feels like it ruins whatever piece im working on." She paused to take another drink, she knew she was getting a bit off track, and her hands were trembling slightly. "As for working professionally, it wasn't really a choice on my part. When I left my hometown... I had to find some way to get money, and that was the only thing I was really good at, and the only job that didn't put me under too much stress." She chuckled a bit, but it was bitter and heavy. "I've tried working other jobs, in small shops, manual labor, even a short time on a cargo ship." She sighed, a bit lighter than before, but still a little heavy sounding. "Apparently I'm too soft and delicate to handle real work, but I love creating art, it makes me feel...complete." she gave Charumati a soft smile, and tried to calm her nerves. "Sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

The older woman waved her hand dismissively. "Not at all," she said with a faint smile. "Passion is the driving force behind all we do. Passion, courage of conviction... with out these, we would be aimless, little more than husks. It is good to see passion in someone so young; hold on to that passion as you grow older, I see far too many adults lose it as they become embroiled in the minutia of day-to-day life."

Small talk had never been one of Charumati's strong suits, so she sipped her coffee a little more. The silence was comfortable, though, and much prefered to the constant talking she seemed to have been roped into the last few weeks, excluding Nirav, which was her fault entirely.

After a few moments, Charu dusted the cookie crumbs from her fingertips surreptitiously on her skirt. "Let's have a look, eh?" She reached over and slowly unwrapped the package, meticulously and methodically so as not to tear any of the paper.

The portrait was even more lovely than she remembered. There was a glint of fierceness to her eyes, and an almost regal countenance. Like before, she wasn't entirely sure she agreed with such an idealised idea of herself, but it did flatter her vanity somewhat to think that someone looked at her like a force to be reckoned with, despite being in the dark about her heritage and her training.

"Where should I...." the woman glanced around the living room. Would it be too self-centred to have a portrait of herself in her own living room? She shooed away the thought. Who else but Nirav would see? Certainly not her colleagues, and she had no friends to speak of. After a moment's pause, she set the portrait down and headed back into the kitchen, pulling open a drawer that held some miscellaneous knick knacks. It took a few seconds of careful rummaging, but she eventually returned to the living room with a nail in one hand and a very small, dainty, ball-peen hammer.

The sofa and chairs were facing the coffee table, and on the other side of that table was a wall; along this wall was a long table that housed her radio, gramophone, record box, and a few other little decorative odds and ends, as well as a small potted succulent. She began to hammer in the nail in this wall, smack dab in the centre above the table. The tiny hammer did an effective job with less noise than its normal-sized counterpart, and soon Charumati had a very subtle hanging place for her portrait.

She hung it with care, stepping back a few times to gain perspective and see if the picture was level. After a few moments, she looked at it with satisfaction.

"There," she said, a note of finality in her voice. "What do you think?"

((OOC: I didn't know how to continue this, I'm sorry!))

Cheo smiled and nodded, "It looks perfect." She set down the now empty coffee mug and stood next to her. "This is one of the best portraits I've ever done. I'm glad it has a good home to hang in." She gave it another once-over before she had to leave, the light wooden frame a beautiful contrast to the dark charcoal lines, and the expression she managed to capture, amazing. She nodded in approval at her work, and turned to her gracious hostess. "The storm seems to have died down a bit, and i wouldn't want to overstay my welcome. I should probably take off now." Cheo shuffled her feet awkwardly, she was never good at ending conversations.

OOC: No worries! Charu isn't really one for small talk, so we've got to figure out a way for them to interact further.

The older woman inclined her head. "I haven't forgotten what I said, either. One moment." She disappeared into the hallway for a few seconds before re-emerging with a handful of memo-sized pieces of paper. "A few phone numbers for you. A few of my co-workers are interested in family and pet portraits." She paused, before handing her another card. It grated on her to hand it over, but she wasn't sure how in need of money Cheo was.

"A contact from the police department." There was a coldness in her voice she couldn't help, and it didn't match the tiniest of smiles she gave. "My superior pressed me to give you this. They're in need of a part-time sketch artist."

After a brief pause as Cheo took the contact information, Charumati gestured to the coffee cups and biscuits. "Would you like to take some with you? I think I have a spare insulated cup somewhere. And I could call you a cab, if you'd like. My treat."

Cheo smiled and thanked her for the contacts, but hesitated at the police contact. She refused it, saying "I really appreciate this, i really do; but a lot of my neighbours were unjustly treated by the police, and i couldn't do that to them." She seemed to shrink a little, and had a distant look in her eyes. "I'd be turning into her if i did something to hurt them." She whispered to herself, not meaning to say that out loud.

The artist was grateful for Charumati continuing, snapping Cheo back to reality. "Would you like to take some with you? I think I have a spare insulated cup somewhere. And I could call you a cab, if you'd like. My treat." Cheo looked at her like she was a spirit who had come to bless her, complete with a heavenly chorus. She felt the beginning of happy tears form in her eyes, and nodded yes. "Thank you so much, i would really appreciate it!" One of the tears fell, and she hastily wiped it away. "I'm sorry, i just- you're so nice and-and you almost reminded me of her at first, but you-you're so nice and-" Cheo stopped herself from going into a spiral of 'I'm sorry's' and 'you're so nice's' by breathing deeply for several moments, and wiping away her tears. Her smile still remained, and she laughed. "Thank you so much, i would love some coffe and biscuits, and i really appreciate this, thank you." She bowed deeply to Charumati, and started to open her arms in a hug, but thought against it, and just smiled.