Every act creates a ripple with no logical end. | OPEN.

[aldabeyoun]

It's a little odd to work out of her livingroom, but in Njoki's experience it's a good idea to have regular clinic hours set up for those that aren't comfortable with house calls. Most of what she does during these times is a bit of basic consulting, the occasional spot of under the table first aid, and listening to people talk through their own worries. It's never very busy, but this is her calling, not her job. Some of her friends and family have been helpful and discretely passed out her contact information and she knows that a little pocket money is a fine thing, but she doesn't believe she'll ever make a living off it.

As she fills and puts the kettle on, she huffs in amusement. At least it's a good excuse to make sure her flat is scrubbed and clean enough for company once a week.

Comments

[kleptofaeniac]

"Hit me with some baklava, babe."

The endearment slips out before she can stop herself and Kenzi at least has the good sense to look - if only for an instant - like she shouldn't be so familiar. It fades quickly though. If Njoki cared she would say so. Right? Right.

"And I'll have you know I'm the best grandpa."

She wants it if only for the hilarity of it.

[aldabeyoun]

"And I do love kebab." So it all works out well. She holds Kenzi's mug out to her and gestures that there's a sugarbowl if she wants to sweeten it.

"So, you have any luck with it?"

[kleptofaeniac]

"Managed it, yeah."

She plops five sugar cubes into her cup before she continues and stirs it with her finger quickly, even if it is hot. Doesn't matter, it tastes pretty freaking good. Taste-buds, who needs 'em?

"You wanted just one maen, right?"

Specifically a Maen Magls. Easy to make, not a lot of effort - but only if you knew what you were doing and only if you could. These were pretty handy for the people that needed them.

[aldabeyoun]

"Just one'll do me. I'm putting together a hand for a client and they asked for one to go in there." For those not up on Njoki's particular flavour of magical language, a 'hand' is a flannel bag stuffed with charms and oils all centred around a specific purpose. Much like the little fabric bag she's nailed above her doorway.

[kleptofaeniac]

"A hand?"

Kenzi would be one of those unfamiliar with Njoki's practices and colloquialisms. Though Russian witches might not call hands that, she is familiar with the concept of these bags. From her look though, she's picturing an actual hand.