Sewing Shoppe(#20312R)
Lining all the walls of the shop are wonderful garments of differing styles, sizes, colors, and prices. Some are delicately embroidered with all manner of intricate designs for special occasions, and others are obviously made for the wear and tear of daily life. In the middle of the back wall is a long counter covered in scissors, fabrics, needles, and a myriad of colorful threads. To its right, there is a loom and a large area filled with hoops and works in progress.
Type SHELP for instructions on how to look at and buy items.
Contents:
Daniel
Obvious exits:
Out
======================== Bree Time ======================
Real time: Wed Dec 13 15:18:23 2006
Bree time: Nighttime <23:55:09> on Sunday of Autumn - October 23,1439
Moon Phase: Last Quarter Moon
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Breelands Weather
The nighttime autumn air is cool but pleasant around you. No moisture lingers in the air, threatening yet another dry night. The moon is above the horizon and in its last quarter phase.
The odd autumn snowfall has already faded into slush with the increased warmth of the progressing day. The journey around the hedge should prove a muddy one.
Daniel has lead Scarlet here, where the new cloak is to be found with luck. Once past the threshold, he maintains his arm for her grasp while turning his eyes toward those articles posted for sale. There are, in fact, a few wool cloaks in various colors and shades nearby, and it is toward those that he advances.
Mrs. Needlenose is stitching near the back of the room quietly, and already observing the pair under her bushy brows.
The sharp gaze of the woman being lead forward sweeps across the room. Although it does not pause upon the seamstress at the back, there is a slight tensing of her posture, and an increased pressure through the grip on the arm. Eyes search out the cloaks, and she follows the Chief in their direction. A wry smile briefly graces the features at some unspoken thought. "Well... I suppose I shall have to purchase something bland and gray again..." And with a lowering of her voice, and another soft smile, "Better to blend in, you see."
Leaned, soft words are returned as they stop short of the cloaks; some in bright colors red, green; as well as a good assortment of dull greys. "I don't see why. You're hardly blending at the moment, traipsing about town with the Chief." Smiling eyes turn to hers for a moment, before he reaches to touch the wool of the brilliant red one. "Have you ever thought that you might blend in better by having the appearance of having nothing to hide?" All of this is now spoken well beyond the reach of the seamstress' ears.
Momentarily, there is a tinge of pink creeping about the cheeks of the woman. "It shall be worth it to hear the rumours, I think." She replies, though there is something almost... unsettled in the tone, as though she had been caught off-guard by the comment. Her own arm uncoils itself from his, and she is drawn to a darker grey cloak. "You sound just like Aleswyn, saying that. However, if I am up and about roaming at night- when I am most likely to roam, I should not do very well watching in shadows in... well, this, for example." And fingers pluck the corners of a canary-yellow cloak.
Daniel remains close behind, observing with hands loosely at his sides. His lips purse in humor at the yellow cloak. "More fitting for hobbitfolk, really, if not for the size." His eyes shift sideways slightly to her, and he bounches once on his heels before continuing. "I like the red. Why don't you make it two cloaks? One for traipsing during the day with the Chief, and another for nocturnal activities." He nods in the direction of the red clak, then sends a brief glance toward the watching seamstress, as if checking for signs that she can hear what they are saying. But there is a hint of jest in his words, so that it is uncertain whether the jest is backed by true sentiment.
"Red??" The lips purse, and she seems the regard the red as though it were a sort of poisonous toad. A poisonous toad which, albiet poisonous, may be fun to poke with a long stick. "I hardly know when you intend for me to sleep, if you are planning enough traipsing that it should warrent a cloak." There is a pause, and one hand stretches out to take said cloak, holding it for a moment at a distance, then throwing it around her shoulders. Eyes that were once a muddy and unmentionable blue are suddenly drawn out, more noticible- as red has a habit of doing. Scarlet poses for the Chief, turning her head sideways to regard him over her shoulder. "Well?"
Reaching hands pull at the wool, straightening it on her frame briefly before he requests. "Well turn about." Mock impatience. "A traipsing once every month now and then is not that insufferable is it? Work a good day cloak."
Scarlet turns, as ordered, moving as though unused to the fit, or that the colour was too much. "Only once a month, Chief? I thought you'd wished to experience my company more often than that!" Her own turn for a mocking tone, as she appears offended.
Daniel shows no concern, and his expression is clearly soft and curious; he seems to measure her complexion and eyes against the bright color, before reaching to adjust her outer shoulders. "I simply do not wish to impose, Scarlet. Sleep is a bad thing to forgo. If it were my wish, I'd have you about far more often." A confirming nod. There is no jest now in his tone.
Scarlet rolls her shoulders back and looks over her shoulder again, smoothing the front, pulling uncertainly at the sleaves. There is a moment's silence as she takes in these last words, the expression softening, yet the eyes still searching. "Well, then..." She seems unsure, covers this with a joke, "Perhaps you should become more of a night-owl, hm? Then we would both be happy."
A light, inward laugh and nod is returned. "Mrs. Thistlewool might not approve of a constant night-owl existence." He releases the sleeves, and steps back. "I like it. Will you have it?"
"Ah," There is a tiny flicker of change in Scarlet's expression, but it is smoothed and disappears as she ducks her head to regard the colour again. "No, I suppose not. Well, perhaps during these cooler months, I shall make some exceptions. It is the heat I dislike, more than the day in general." And, the woman takes a deep breath, gentle smile luring the corners of her lips. "Very well, I suppose I shall. And this grey, also." And a cloak in a darker shade of grey- one nearing black but still almost smoky in quality- is taken down. The red is shrugged from her shoulders.
Daniel catches the red as it falls, pulling it away. "How accommodating. I'd thought it would take a bit more persuasion." His eyes turn to the grey as he handles the red cloak.
Wry smile, a shrug rolls across the shoulders. "You said you liked it. I trust your judgement." A pause and Scarlet is reaching for a coin pouch within a pocket. "And besides," She continues, as though the last comment wasn't an argument enough. "I do not own anything red."
Eyes catch sight of her reaching, and Daniel responds by quickly folding the red cloak over his arm and advancing toward Mrs. Needlenose. Pointing at the cloaak over his arm, he asks, "How much?" A nasal response is returned. "Forty, Chief." The Chief quickly reaches for his pouch.
Scarlet is still holding the grey, and nothing looks as though she'll give it up now. "Chief..." The word is soft as he strides off, and she follows quickly behind, one hand reaching out to his arm- the one moving for the pouch. "Don't... it is too much.. I can--" And at this moment the silver braclet still adorning her wrist glints as it catches the light.
Scarlet is still holding the grey, and nothing looks as though she'll give it up now. "Chief..." The word is soft as he strides off, and she follows quickly behind, one hand reaching out to his arm- the one moving for the pouch. "Don't... it is too much.. I can--" And at this moment the silver braclet still adorning her wrist glints as it catches the light.
He keeps ahead of her stubbornly, already counting coins now to Mrs. Needlenose. No attempt at bartering. Before any intervention can be made, the exchange is completed, and he's turned about toward her. He points at the grey, addressing Mrs. Needlenose. "And this one?"
Smoke pours from Mt. Doom as the Dark One's evil sorcery lags the game.
The smoke clears as good triumphs and the database saves.
Scarlet bundles up the grey one defensively. "You are not paying for this one." And looking sternly to Mrs. Needlenose, the eyes turning cold and the expression threatening. Just incase she had thought of accepting more coin from the Chief. Or, in fact, if she had thought to charge Scarlet too much. Regardless she is already counting out coins, waiting for the reply.
Mrs. Needlenose allows a huff at Scarlet's rather cold demeanor, but responds with a disgrunteld. "Twenty two." Daniel seems now to make no effort to intervene; content perhaps to have purchased the one for her. He stands quietly by and watches her counting. "Good cloak business of late, I presume? With the earlier winter and all?" There's the slightest sarcasm in his small talk, which Mrs. Needlenose does not detect. "Oh certainly! Sold me a quarter gross just past week." The figure causing a bit of a mathematical exercise, as shown by Daniel's returned brow scrunching.
Scarlet relaxes again. The money is counted, handed over. The cloak is folded neatly. She appears to only be half-listening to the conversation between the two. It is, after all, rather mundane. Scarlet looks up at the Chief, signalling her readiness to go.
A nod greets Scarlet's glance, along with a hand which mindlessly takes her elbow to signal his joining her. "Well, I do hope you sell many more in that case, Mrs. Needlenose. Good day." The woman nearly scowls at the comment, yet replies with an appearance of common courtesy. "Good day, Chief." Nothing said to Scarlet. Daniel then proceeds toward the entrance. "I think the red is asking to be worn. Let's put it on again?" There's something like mild glee in his voice as he indicates outside as his goal for the change.