[Memory] Welcome to the Neighbourhood (Ava)

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A large forest in Central Anaxas, the once-thriving mostly human town of Dorhaven is recovering from a bombing in 2719 at its edge.

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Shae
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Joined: Thu Jan 31, 2019 5:30 pm
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Race: Raen
: Too pretty for you
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Thu Aug 22, 2019 5:47 pm

Roalis 5, 2717 | Morning
Woven Delights, Painted Ladies
.
Tessa Taylor might be a tsat but she had a hard time staying still. Shae's mother was the sort who always had to be doing, every ounce of energy directed with purpose towards whatever task currently occupied her. She wasn't the sort to waste energy, the woman focused and dedicated to any and all work she undertook whether that was shaping fabrics into the patterns that customers wanted, mending tears or scrubbing a stubborn stain. She was hard-working and uncomplaining, almost glad to carry all the responsibility placed on her shoulders. She might be his mother but Shae didn't understand how she took it all. The witch was happy to do what she could to satisfy her customers and while her son got the need to help those on their level, the humans and the wicks and the occasional passive who wandered their way who needed clothing patched or cheap, simple garments made but catering to galdori? He didn't like bending over backwards for their whims or Tessa's desire to do more to attract them.

The young wick didn’t have his mother’s drive. Oh he wasn’t lazy by any means but if he could avoid doing something or better yet, do something that he actually wanted to do then that was obviously preferable. Of course, playing music on the street meant that he was reliant on others for his income as well but he didn’t feel as if he had to lick some bloody golly’s erse to ensure it happened, not that his kind were liked in Vienda. The Painted Ladies was an all right sort of neighbourhood and so he was able to ply his trade in relative peace and without the need for the permission of their lords and masters, the supposedly superior erseholes.

Not that it was his trade yet, busking on the streets, at least not full time but it would be soon. Shae had every intention of taking his chances away from the little apartment above their humble shop. As soon as he felt like the witch was suitably set up that she'd be comfortable in his absence then he would make tracks. Not that he'd go far of course; the teenager wasn't inclined to abandon his mother.

Not that she wasn't perfectly capable of being independent and Tessa was plenty capable. It was her who dragged him out of bed, brow beating him to wash and make himself presentable before they went to pay a visit to the new draper that had opened a shop in their neighbourhood. It was all about business and friendliness, the witch taking the time to bake some bread to bring over as a way to make a good impression and possibly forge important business deals - a cooperation. Except that it wasn't done purely as some savvy business move; Tessa actually wanted to welcome the woman as a newcomer and offer the hand of friendship. That meant getting up early to go see this stranger. Shae had to come along because it would be rude not to - so Tessa insisted, scolding him as she sensed his desire to protest before he even voiced it - and besides, if she ended up making a sizeable purchase, wasn't he going to help her carry it home? Didn't he want to introduce himself so this woman would know who he was if he had to run errands for his mother?

The older witch had a way of wearing on you, her son's easygoing nature no match for her stubbornness. So here he was at a pretty little shop with its windows filled with different sorts of fabrics armed with homemade bread while the smaller woman led the way, entering the draper's ahead of him. The redhead followed obediently, bell tinkling merrily as he ducked his head a little. The door was just about high enough to accommodate him but it was uncomfortably low for one of his stature and he had a weird paranoia that he was going to brain himself on the door frame or tangle his hair in that gay little bell given that he'd bundled it into a high but loose bun. If the strands caught then it'd be his own fault and while he'd be inclined to laugh it off, the sight of him held captive by the shop's bell sure to be a humorous one, he doubted that his mother would see the humour in it.

Today was the sort of day when Tessa's tight-lipped frown was likely to get a good airing - not where Ava Weaver would be able to see it of course.

Shifting his hold on the bread, the wick closed the door behind him gently, shuffling weight from foot to foot as he came to stand a little behind his mother in the centre of the shop floor. The witch was busy smoothing the material of her dress, seemingly unconscious of her actions as she turned a quick, critical gaze over her son's appearance.

"Smile, Shae. It'd be nice if you could look as if you wanted to be here," his mother commented, voice low so that it wouldn't carry, the woman managing to give the impression of someone looking sternly down their nose while actually looking up. There might have been a soft sigh and the youth had to resist raising a hand to his head as her gaze flitted over him, made conscious that he'd woven some flower petals into a little braid that was more like a dreadlock at this point and had dropped out of the messy bun. Tessa had no issue with him experimenting with his gender expression but he also knew that appearing anything less than strictly masculine could have its problems. Galdori could be shocked and scandalised, as could humans.

This Weaver woman was human, right? Was she going to get offended by some wizened yellow petals sticking out from a few woven locks of hair? He bit his lip, unsure.

"Well, I didn't want to come, Ma. I get that-" he began, breaking off when the woman moved from the back of the shop and his sullen teenage complaint was forgotten, dying on his lips. Instead, he found himself staring, gold-rimmed brown eyes huge as he gazed at the woman who... honestly didn't look like she belonged working in a place like this. He hadn't seen her since she'd moved in, his gallivanting ensuring that their paths hadn't crossed because if he'd seen her- Gods, if he'd seen her before-

"Hello there," he greeted huskily, feeling the exasperated flicker in his mother's glamour as he took a step nearer, moving around her, suddenly far more interested in this little errand of friendliness. "We've come to welcome you and see if we can strike up a deal that'd uh... benefit us both," he suggested, a definite attempt at flirtation there, possibly even a mistaken belief that he sounded sexy, all while he thrust the offering of bread out to her. There was a snorting sound that was hastily covered by a cough.

"Yes, hello, Miss Weaver," Tessa broke in, a mischievous twist to one side of her upturned lips. "I'm Tessa Taylor and this is my son, Shae. I know that you're new to the Ladies so I thought we'd greet you and see if we could set up an account. I think my name says a bit about my trade although I patch and wash as well as making clothing to fit. Our trades work together, I think. Not that I want to keep you from business, of course," Tessa assured her, good-naturedly.

"We wouldn't want to make you lose out on important customers. We're only a few doors down, we aren't going anywhere. We wouldn't... we wouldn't want to force our company on you. Just... if it suits."

Shae was only sort of listening to his mother. He was mainly staring and frankly, he'd forgotten that the woman who'd birthed him existed.

"Isn't that right, Shae?" she asked abruptly. The young man blinked rapidly, rising from a pleasant dream with reluctance.

"Oh... yeah, wouldn't want to- Don't want to bother, Miss Weaver, just... get to know you better." He leaned a little closer to her, magnetised.



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Ava Weaver
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Fri Aug 23, 2019 12:33 pm

Morning, 5th Roalis, 2717
Woven Delights, The Painted Ladies
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N
o, Ava thought, stepping back and surveying the room. There was something about the pale red that she had found so lovely which did not quite seem to fit the rest of the space. She took a deep breath, in and out, settling the faint flutter of nerves in her chest. Last night, in the lantern-light, it had looked well, but – the light was a bit brighter in the morning, and now Ava felt that it was a discordant note, rather than the soothing one she had hoped for.

Ava took a deep breath, stepped forward, and began to strip the cloth from the couch. She folded the red, settled it into the table, and glanced down at the worn, used furniture that it had hidden so well. She ran her hands over the salvaged cushions, darned and stitched back together, barely holding their shape, and traced her fingertips along the worn and frayed arms.

Then, shaking her head faintly at her own sentimentality, Ava tried again. She had mostly gone with pinks and oranges so far – not bright, not too bright, but warm and friendly. That was how she had wanted the back room to feel. Yellow, she decided – not a bright, vivid sunny color, but with almost orange undertones, the sort of color one might call mustard. She draped it over the cushions and stepped back, surveying the effect. Yes, Ava thought; yes.

Tucking the sheet of fabric over the cushions was easy enough. She smoothed it against the back of the couch, a few careful clips giving it the impression of shape, then pinned it over the arms as well, securing it – until she could get it stitched into a proper cover. She winced, mentally tallying the few coins she had left; the swaths of fabric in the front room of the shop and downstairs in her store had already cost her nearly down to her last coin. Ava smoothed the last of the wrinkles out with her hands, and tucked her palms against her stomach. She was shaking, Ava realized.

Ava had decided to open the shop on the first day of Roalis. There had been so much to do on the house, these last months, and she had worried that the rainy season would bring bad luck – wet hands, muddy shoes, and worse besides. If the roof had needed repairs, she would not have been able to open at all – but, then, Ava had had it checked before she had chosen this street, this house, and she had wanted to be sure of a place that wouldn’t need too many repairs, beyond – beyond. She had scrubbed the mildew and mold out, scrubbed and scrubbed again, cleaned and cleared the drains, and it had only been in these last weeks when she had worked up the courage to move her inventory downstairs. Thinking of the threat of damp, of mold, made her heart pound a little, but Ava knew she could not go to check it, not now – if customers came, downstairs she might not hear them.

Four days gone, and a few sales, but precious few. It would pick up, Ava promised herself. It would pick up; it had to pick up. She took a deep breath, ran her hands over her skirt, twitching out the folds, and stepped back to look at the room again. Yes, Ava thought – yes. The yellow was much better. She gathered up the folded red cloth, and tucked it away for now, then turned back to look at the room again.

Perhaps the red had been - it had struck her as discordant, but now the yellow seemed too consistent. Was there enough to draw the eye? Ava stared at the couch across the room, lifting one hand to brush a strand of curls from her face. Should she have left it red? Perhaps her instincts last night had been right, and now – now she was merely second-guessing herself.

The soft tinkling of the bell from outside was welcome, immensely welcome. Ava twitched the curls back into place over her shoulder, took a deep breath, and stepped through the door into the main shop. She wore a dark golden dress today. a color to welcome summer, but not too bright or vivid. Warm, Ava thought, and welcoming.

The collar of the dress was high, a soft scoop neck at her throat. The sleeves puffed slightly at the shoulders, then pulled in tight to the arms with a small band of coral silk, before flaring out, until they fell wide and loose down to Ava’s wrists, ever so slightly longer at the outside than the inside. The rest of the dress was simpler, with another wider band of coral silk at Ava’s waist, ruched to give a sense of texture, clearly tailored to fit. The golden skirt flared out over her hips – it fell nearly straight, but with a distinctive pointed hem at the bottom, the front and back.

Ava smiled, bright and friendly, at the woman and the young man who had entered the shop. Her kohl-rimmed eyes widened faintly at the young man’s greeting – she caught the exasperated flicker in the woman’s eye, and knew even before she had introduced herself that this had to be his mother.

“Thank you,” Ava said, trying to tame the inclination for the smile to become a grin. She looked up (far up) into the young man’s eyes unhesitatingly, but with no particular warmth either – nothing special between them, Ava told herself, trying carefully to keep the look as neutrally friendly as she could. She took the bread from him, and while she didn’t seem to do it deliberately, there wasn’t even a fraction on a second during which her black-lacquered fingers brushed his hands. Neither did she show even the slightest hesitation at the brush of their glamours, not even the faintest implication of a flinch. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the flowers twinged into the young man's hair, and now she couldn't keep her smile from widening a little more.

Ava turned her attention to Miss Taylor when the woman began to speak. Her eyes widened, slightly, and she held herself back, careful not to interrupt – no matter how badly she wanted to reassure the other woman as she kept going. Weaver! The name had a way of racing through her still. Hers, Ava promised herself; this name was hers.

Nearly the moment Miss Taylor and Shae had finished, Ava spoke. “Oh, yes! I –” She hesitated, blinking once, gaze softening a little. Too enthusiastic? It was so hard to find a balance. Did she come across as new and eager, or merely as young and inexperienced?

“It’s wonderful to meet you both, Miss Taylor, Shae,” Ava began again, smiling between them with dark-painted lips. She stepped back away from Shae’s gentle lean, and set the bread down on the counter at the back of the shop. She turned back to the two visitors, and managed to leave a little more space between herself and the young man.

“Thank you both very much for coming by, and for your lovely welcome. I can’t say as I have many customers at all yet,” Ava glanced around the shop – she couldn’t quite hide the rueful note to her smile, and so she leaned into it, adding a flicker of humor in her eyes as she looked back to Miss Taylor. “Let alone – important ones,” she added a subtle emphasis to the word, understanding what the older woman had meant.

“But I’ve no skill at all in tailoring myself, I’m afraid,” Ava smiled at Miss Taylor again. “And it would be simply lovely to have someone to recommend! Fabric is wonderful, of course, but it’s not quite enough, is it?” Ava smiled a little wider, eyes crinkling softly at the edges. “Have the two of you lived here long? I’m afraid I’ve not had nearly enough time to explore the area.”

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Shae
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: Too pretty for you
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Mon Aug 26, 2019 4:32 pm

Roalis 5, 2717 | Morning
Woven Delights, Painted Ladies
.
Help!

A very pretty young woman was smiling at him and he didn't know what to do. It was far too gorgeous a smile to be allowed in truth, definitely distracting and it was funny how the sight of dark lips stretched around pearly teeth could so successfully scatter his thoughts and send his pulse racing.

She looks really happy to see me, he thought blissfully. Us, he corrected himself, remembering his mother's presence which had been so conveniently forgotten for a few happy moments. No, the smile was for him. She'd been smiling and then her lips had stretched much wider when he handed over the bread.

Sweet Lady, wow! It wasn't often that women smiled at him like that and it was certainly... something.

Entirely against his will, the wick could feel the colour rising in his face, his heightened pulse only seeming to spread the blush faster, skin blazing far more hotly than he could possibly control. His tongue which had been all too eager to spill words a moment ago seemed to swell, too large and thick for him to be able to control, leading him to swallow spasmodically, protuberance in his throat bobbing violently as he tried to breathe rather than choke on his admiration. A flutter of warm and fuzzy feelings flitted through his glamour but he was utterly oblivious. Tessa was not. The witch's hazel gaze flicked briefly in his direction before making a quick trip heavenward, her lips twitching up higher as she focused her attention on Ava again.

"Call me Tessa, please. You don't have to be so forward, Miss Weaver. Mind you, perhaps you don't like the formality yourself but I wouldn't presume - wouldn't know what to call you in any case!" the older woman pointed out with a laugh. "You're too young to have titles like that thrown at you. I'd like to think I'm too young myself but... I'm obviously not as young as I was."

The last comment was punctuated by an affectionate look in her son's direction and a gentle touch on the arm. The young man jolted back to the same plane of reality as everyone else.

"What did I do? I didn't- What?" he blurted, somehow blushing more deeply as his mother laughed and it became clear that he hadn't been fully zoned in. The teenager's mouth shut and he gazed down at his feet, shuffling his weight again and only very slowly returning his gaze to the level of Ava's face. His mother could talk. Tessa wasn't likely to say something so embarrassing that she wanted the Circle to strike her down. Shae felt about that embarrassed right now and was wondering if Ava was secretly laughing at his stupidity from behind her grin.

They thought that he was a silly kid but he wasn't. He was sixteen, he was going to move out and he was going to make his own way. Hadn't he managed to supplement their income from the shop quite nicely with his playing? He wasn't a child, he really wasn't. But damn could he humiliate himself every time he opened his gods be damned mouth. He wasn't always this bad but he hadn't been expecting this. Alioe save him from himself!

"Us calling isn't any trouble. We have to stick together in these parts, look out for each other and I know what it's like to be a woman on your own, running a business by yourself," Tessa explained, mouth in a soft sympathetic line. A hand flapped, dismissive of her own words. "Not that I think you're incapable, that's not it. Just sometimes it's nice to know that you aren't on your own and friends are- it's good to have friends."

The admittance was quiet, her voice faltering a little and for the first time, Shae really looked at his mother and realised that she didn't really have anyone other than him. It was a shocking realisation honestly. Oh she talked to the neighbours and she had little deals with some of the other local businesses but she didn't have any friends. She worked hard and she looked out for her son and when Shae's father was in town - which was less and less often these days - then she went off with Jerrod but that... that was it...

Sweet Lady, how can I move out and leave her on her own? She can manage the shop on her own but I never thought how lonely she might get... he realised, a miserable note entering his glamour that actually mirrored one that had very briefly flitted into Tessa's own before she buried it. His mother had plastered a smile on but it seemed off to him, false, although it probably didn't look that way to Ava.

"Well, I couldn't do much without fabric! Although you'd be amazed what you can make out of nothing and sometimes you have to make a lot out of nothing when some people decide to grow a few inches every couple of months. Although I think he's stopped now. I can hope! If he grows much more he won't be able to fit in the shop! And if he could then he'd just fall over things. Not used to his height yet, bless him."

The youth was scarlet from a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

"Ma! I'm standing right here!" he whined.

"I know, I can see you there, love," Tessa said patronisingly, shooting a little wink in Ava's direction. The young man sighed, drawing himself up to his full height as he decided to ignore his mother. Fuck this, he wasn't gonna rise to the bait. They were here for a reason, weren't they?

"I've just turned sixteen, Miss Weaver but I wasn't born in Vienda. I've been here close to sixteen years, give or take a few months and Ma has had the shop..." he trailed off, brows furrowing. He shot his mother a furtive look.

"Close to fifteen. Lived in the Ladies close to sixteen. Lived in Vienda all my life but... not this part," she confided, intertwining work-weathered fingers over the skirt of her dress. "I know the place well enough so I can help you with anything you need. Shae... almost definitely knows it better than I do. I think he's crawled into every little nook and cranny in the Ladies. I suspect that he knows the Dives better than he should as well. I know it but... I'd still rather not go alone."

"If you need anything in the Dives then I can always go get it for you. Or escort you. If anyone bothers us then I can just-"

Shae snapped off a word of Monite, his eagerness and bravado making him tug in his glamour without thinking. Well, it was without any depth of thought really. He had the idea in his mind, a perfect little fantasy of walking with Ava in the Dives when some man came up to harass them. So easy to flex and just push.

And because he didn't consider the consequences, didn't think of anything honestly aside from the marvellous rush of excitement that came with the magic that flitted through him, passion and fantasy over the beautiful woman making the communion with the mona a far more exhilarating one than normal. The lustful thrill, which came with guilt and confusion as well as pleasure, would have been enough to embarrass him but of course, he had actually loosed magic with catastrophic results. The simple push spell shoved a stand by the counter. His chatting was very unsophisticated and underutilised and so he didn't have much experience with the mona but there was enough intent behind the magic that it worked better than he would have liked, smacking into the stand somewhere near the top, toppling it over to clatter loudly on the ground.

The stand alone would have been bad enough but there was a roll of fabric stretched over it - beautiful, costly, silk - and it went toppling too. The young man released a sound between a groan and a yelp, sounding for all of Vita as if he was going to choke as he threw himself after it.

"Shae! What have I told you?"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Epaemo! Epaemo!" he almost sobbed, the Tek leaking out before he could stop it, cringing somewhat as he felt the anger in his mother's glamour flare higher. Oh no, oh no, oh no!

"Don't you dare use that!" she hissed at him before turning her attention back to Ava, exclaiming her own apologies, offers to pay for any damaged material or anything else that could make up for her son's "stupid thoughtlessness".

The young redhead was doing his best not to cry.


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Ava Weaver
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Tue Aug 27, 2019 12:01 pm

Morning, 5th Roalis, 2717
Woven Delights, The Painted Ladies
Ava laughed at Tessa’s insistence on her first name, a soft echo of the older woman. “Call me Ava, then,” she said with a pleased smile. She didn’t mind the informality; there was something lovely about being called Miss Weaver, but there was an equal joy in choosing not to be. Choice. Sometimes the wonder of it surged up in her, opened in her chest and fluttered like wings, flapped and soared.

Ava made no protestations on the subject of age. She let her smile widen a little, as if being called young was a pleasure to her. Protesting that you were not young only had the opposite effect, and so Ava did not bother with it. She did not want to be seen as young, but the best way to do that was to pretend, ever so slightly, that she did. It was a subtle, careful act, and she was not yet sure she had it down. But it was important; it was desperately important. She could not seem so young as to raise questions. Would someone have told her, if it was all too implausible?

Ava’s eyes crinkled in a little more of a smile at Shae’s sudden blurted our words. His face was bright red. He looked down at his feet, and then back up at her, with a slow sort of shyness that Ava was not entirely sure how to handle. She held her smile still, held the warmth on her face, but she didn’t dare try to be any friendlier. Something prickled uneasy down her spine, and Ava knew it for fear. She held her back straight against it, held the smooth mask of her face tight.

Ava felt as if she were a puppet. A marionette, she thought, picturing children’s toys from long ago. She tugged on her own strings, turned her head towards Tessa, smiled a little wider. She settled her hands together at her front, softly overlapping; let her posture follow, tilting herself ever so slightly towards the witch.

Ava’s gaze softened at Tessa’s words, and her smile too. Yes, she urged it to say; I understand. She wanted to reach out to the other woman, but it seemed to soon, and she held the motion back before it could begin. Ava did not quite know what to say; she began a thousand sentences in her head and ripped each one away, trimming bits off here and there, trying again, and never able to find the right words. There was something brittle on Tessa’s face now, or perhaps she was only projecting.

“It’s the opposite of trouble,” Ava said, finally. She had meant her voice to sound firm but there was a tiny quiver in it, another faltering echo of Tessa. She took a little breath, let her shoulders straighten just a hair, and smiled wider at the other woman once more.

It was easy for them all to change the subject, and Ava grinned again at the light-hearted comment at Shae’s expense, feeling her ease return. “I wish I had a helper with your height,” she told the boy, wryly, wanting to encourage him. Ava glanced around the shop, letting her gaze linger visibly on the highest rolls of fabric. “There’s so much space I can’t use here.”

Asking about how long they had been here seemed to be a good idea. Shae was proud of his sixteen years, and Tessa was proud of her knowledge; it was something she could offer. Ava had meant to say something - something pleasant and light about being grateful for their assistance, maybe about feeling welcomed - to acknowledge their expertise, to position herself as happy to accept it.

The sudden monite from Shae was unexpected; Ava jerked, once, very slightly, a spasm of tension running through her whole body. Her eyes widened, very slightly, and she dropped her gaze immediately to the stand he had knocked over. Perhaps - perhaps they would think it was only that. She stared at the swath of silk against the ground, her hands tight at her front.

Unexpected, Ava told herself. It was only that it had been unexpected. She did not take a deep breath to calm herself; she did not need anything so flashy.

Shae was all but crying on the ground; there was something heavy in the air, woobly, and Ava knew it for anger; she could hear the echo of it in Tessa’s words.

“Oh, no, no! Please don’t worry,” Ava found herself again, and smiled at the older woman. Her hands were a little too tight in front of her and so she slid them apart, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It was not an easy skirt to kneel in but she made it look graceful, taking a step forward and coming to crouch on the ground with Shae.

“Luckily there isn’t any mud,” Ava said, cheerfully. She helped Shae to ease the stand upright, her hands close to his but not quite touching.

“Let me just...” Ava bent forward, dark hair tumbling over her shoulder, and plucked a handkerchief from an invisible pocket, brushing at the silk. She smoothed a last bit of crease from it with her fingers, her skin smooth and soft enough not to snag against the delicate fabric.

“Silk doesn’t crease easily,” Ava told Shae with a smile. She admired the soft swath of coral, the same silk that adorned the arms and waist of her dress, checked it over professionally, and then rose with the same easy grace, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt. She folded the handkerchief with a graceful movement of her hands, and set it down on the counter. “It’s tougher than it looks, I promise,” that one she offered to Tessa, with a friendly, reassuring smile behind it.

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Shae
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: Too pretty for you
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Tue Sep 17, 2019 8:28 am

Roalis 5, 2717 | Morning
Woven Delights, Painted Ladies
.
It wasn't as if Shae was a stranger to the allures of women but the kind of women who came into the shop tended either to be off-limits and aloof to boot or they were regular women, those who worked for a living and didn't have the time to be turning on the charm or doing themselves up to achieve to awkwardly tall wick teenagers. Similarly, the women he saw in the streets tended to be of a similar sort although at least those were more willing to offer a smile and acknowledge his existence. Some of them could be difficult to take one's eyes off but even so, he'd always managed with them before. Ava was something altogether different in a category all of her own.

She was a very different sort of woman.

The woman had packaged herself, every inch of her graceful form, every gesture, every syllable carefully measured and chosen to appeal. Everything about her attracted and while he wasn't fully aware of how conscious an act it must be, he was aware that she had taken careful pains to be her best self for the world, every feminine wile primed and ready. It wasn't something that he could complain about, the ability to muster the necessary brain cells that weren't distracted proving rather difficult. It wasn't a cheap or tawdry display, not like some of the prostitutes that he'd seen in the Dives, selling their bodies in a very different fashion that both attracted and repulsed the inexperienced teenager. Ava drew him in utterly, everything about her taking him in and so of course, he would have done anything for her, entirely under her spell.

It was the kind of spell that had made him indulge in fantasies, dangerous ones and the world had come crashing down around him. He'd gone from regarding the high places in the shop that filled him with pride at the thought of the service he could render for her to a trembling mess on the floor as his own magic went astray.

The mona wasn't something to be used so casually! He didn't have to follow all those bloody, stuffy rules that the gollies followed but he also couldn't swing the particles around so idly, so unthinkingly. This was the sort of carelessness that he should have tried to avoid, a disaster that could have been all too easily avoided if he hadn't been so enthralled by that pretty smiling face.

There was a lot of emotion in the room and neither of the wicks was in the position to analyse Ava's responses in any particular detail. Shae was too upset to be able to register anything properly, his mind running away on him, imagining that the human's feelings would be similar to his mother's. Tessa noted the fearful jerk but took it as a shock response, noting the tension more although she viewed it as restrained anger and frustration. So of course she lashed into her son mercilessly with his tongue, certain that he was in sore need of rebuke.

Each saw what they wanted or rather, expected to see and so neither picked up on the truth of the situation.

When Ava knelt, the anger in Tessa's field increased as well as the frustration. Her mouth pulled into a tight unhappy line, eyes fixed reproachfully on her son's head although she remained quiet. Given that the other woman was helping him, it wasn't suitable for her to continue berating Shae, not when the victim in this scenario was waving off apologies. There was a brief resentful glance thrown Ava's way for undermining Tessa's scolding but it vanished swiftly as the woman crossed her arms and unhappily regarded the proceedings.

To find the pretty draper kneeling at his side was a shock to Shae but not an unwelcome one. He found himself shaking more, pulse racing as he watched her careful movements. Tears stood in his brown gaze but didn't fall, face remaining flushed with embarrassment as hands hovered uselessly beside her. He wanted to help but didn't know how to do so without being a hindrance.

"Thank you. I mean, sorry. You shouldn't have to- You're kind n-n-not to give out b-b-but it was stupid of me. I'm really sorry," the young man explained urgently, remaining on the ground beside her as she brushed and straightened the material. He settled for straightening the stand that the silk would sit on so that he wasn't entirely useless but still expecting cross words at any moment.

"I'm not usually so careless," he promised, worrying at his lip although as they both stood, he righted himself awkwardly, imperfect coordination evident. His mother went 'hrmph' in the background, no doubt thinking of the many things he bumped into or knocked over in their own establishment. It wasn't his fault, not really. He was tall and prone to daydreaming; accidents were bound to happen.

Tessa returned Ava's smile, stiff and not reaching her eyes which flitted to her son and narrowed. A warning. The wick's gaze dropped to his face and he shuffled back to his mother's side, shoulders hunched and head ducked as if hoping to hide his tall form from sight.

"Oh well... no harm done. Thankfully," the witch responded, the wooden smile stretching just a little more, the appearance of teeth not managing to look as friendly as intended. The teenager's visage somehow turned a deeper red.

"I really am sorry, Miss W- Miss... Ava." He was almost tripping over his own tongue in his effort not to offend, unsure if he was allowed simply call her 'Ava' but remembering that they weren't meant to be too formal either. So she was Miss Ava unless she stated otherwise. It was a good compromise, the wick thought. "If I can help out around the shop to make it up to you... I promise I won't knock over anything again! But I... I-"

"We are here to buy. I'm sure that's amends enough," the older woman interjected. "Perhaps you can head home and sort things there while I do business, Shae."

The young man blinked, taken aback and then responded quite innocently with his brows pulled together, "But don't you want me to carry things back?"

The lips tightened further, smile somehow growing more rigid as she looked to her son. "Yes. Yes that's right. Never mind then, you'd best stay," Tessa conceded grudgingly. With a sigh, she brushed a hand down her skirt. "Can we see some of your wares, Ava? We don't have much call for fancy fabrics but the common ones... we often need those for patching and the like. If you'd be so kind, I'd like to negotiate..."


Last edited by Shae on Sun Sep 29, 2019 8:44 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Ava Weaver
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Wed Sep 18, 2019 12:06 am

Morning, 5th Roalis, 2717
Woven Delights, The Painted Ladies
It would have been harder not to be aware of how upset Tessa was, Ava thought. Of course she did feel it in the woman’s glamour, that unpleasantly heavy tinge to the woobliness which signaled anger. There was a tightness in the air that was inescapable in the small confines of her shop. But it was written even more plainly across the woman’s face, on the tight set of her face, the cross of her arms over her chest, in the snap of a resentful glare that Ava did not miss, even from kneeling on the floor.

There was a quiet sort of desperation in Shae’s voice, an uncertain stutter at odds with and yet painfully complimentary to the way he had manfully thrust the bread at her. He was, Ava thought yet again, terribly young. She was not sure if she had ever been quite so young; she must have, and yet she didn’t think she had been, not quite. Not in the way Shae was.

Even when Tessa smiled again, it did not reach her eyes. Ava was aware of a faint prickling of unease, a sense that she had overstepped. Should she have left Shae to fumble on the floor alone, clumsily trying to fix her display? That might well have ruined it. Could she have found a way to draw Tessa in more, to get the woman on her side? She had thought the reassurances of no harm done would soothe both of them; she felt as if she had stepped into something long-standing that she could not quite name.

It was painfully awkward.

Ava’s smile deepened at Tessa’s acknowledgement that no harm had been done. She felt the prickly of strangeness over her skin, and this time she did not interrupt; she let Shae make another apology, and she let Tessa butt in, aggressively trying to send the boy home. Tessa was ashamed, Ava thought, and she was not sure why. Her son’s clumsiness? His unintentional casting? The Tek he’d let slip? Ava understood something of masks; she knew about wanting to be seen a certain way. Was that the problem, that Tessa had wanted to present a certain image, and Shae had ruined it?

There was, Ava thought defensively, conscious of half-remembered feelings from a time when perhaps she had been that young, nothing wrong with Tek. But there was nothing she could say, nothing she could do, but pretend to be unaware of it all. She stood with her shopkeeper’s smile dimming only slightly, doing her best to pretend that of course Tessa had just forgotten that she would need Shae to carry her packages. She didn’t say anything about Tek - certainly not in Tek - and she didn’t comfort Shae either, not again.

“Of course,” Ava’s smile shone just a little brighter when Tessa asked to see fabrics, her raw enthusiasm not remotely feigned. Every scrap of fabric sold would help her, common or not. She wanted to find the words to reassure Tessa about her common fabrics; she did not know what to say. Standing there in her golden dress, Ava was uncomfortably aware of how false it would ring, and she couldn’t quite sort of the right tone.

Instead of letting herself pause and think it over, Ava walked with brisk steps to the set of shelves where she kept cotton and wool in earth tones, edging into brighter colors at the corners of the display. She glanced back at Tessa and Shae, gauging what they were wearing, and did her best to find two or three colors either the same or a close match, across the different materials; she eased the rolls of fabric into her arms one by one, and carried them carefully back to the heavy table, stacking them atop one another.

She started with a simple dark gray, a wool; Ava spread a length of it on the counter, smoothing it with all the same delicacy she had shown with the silk. “This is from one of my favorite vendors,” she told Tessa, smiling again, or perhaps still; she had not let it lapse, even as she walked away. “From Brayde county.”

Ava would show them the dark gray wool, a dark brown linen, and a pale brown cotton, soft to the touch, ever so slightly fancier than the rest. Each one she treated with the same deliberate reverence; she smoothed out the gray again before she brought out the dark brown, and spread out the linen with just as much care. She did not linger on the cotton, not particularly, although she did leave it spread across the counter, the three offset slightly against the stone, to let them see all three at once.

“If one fabric would be the best fit, I do have other colors in each of them,” Ava offered, eyes crinkling in a smile. “Please feel free to touch them! I hope you’ll feel the quality.” That she addressed to Tessa, polite and respectful, deferring with her tone and a graceful tilt of her head to be other woman’s experience.

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Shae
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Sun Sep 29, 2019 5:39 pm

Roalis 5, 2717 | Morning
Woven Delights, Painted Ladies
.
He'd humiliated himself, he'd made himself blush with such intensity that it was a wonder that he hadn't melted his skin from the heat and yet he was still standing here. Shae's mother had given him an out but he'd failed to take it - something he was regretting a little bit. It would have given him a chance to slink away but it would have been like scuttling off with his tail between his legs. Maybe it was a matter of pride, at least in part, but he also knew that his mother could use the help, even if she didn't seem keen on his continuing presence here. Tessa had wanted his help or she wouldn't have brought him along so pride be damned, he'd stay, even if she was irritable enough to attempt to send him away now.

The teenager also found that he didn't want to leave so abruptly after what he'd done to Ava, or rather her stock. He didn't intend to open his mouth and offer more apologies, the chance of making a fool of himself again all too high given recent events; his emotions were running too high and were too disorderly. The young man didn't want to scuttle off like a coward, didn't want her to think that he was some silly little boy who had to go and hide his face because he was too ashamed to face her. Let her see him remain, steady and stalwart. Surely it would be better to remain and allow them to acclimatise to each other. And then at a later stage, some point soon actually, it might be easier to return and talk to the draper without the witch hovering beside them. Shae was certain that he wouldn't have reacted so poorly, wouldn't have almost ended up sobbing if it wasn't for the presence of his mother.

He'd come back, this wouldn't be the last that Ava saw of him, he was certain of that. It was something for him to think about and consider while the two women talked. He could focus on his future encounter with the young beauty and it was strangely... calming. His glamour settled, even as his mother's remained a little ruffled. She was irritated by him being here, he guessed but at least she wasn't going to say anything more about him. Furthermore, Tessa wouldn't have a chance to talk about him behind his back, plenty of things she'd probably rather say to the other businesswoman if her son wasn't present. Too self-conscious to bad mouth him now.

The wick did his best to be unobtrusive, well aware that he was a towering presence over them both. Shae simply put his hands behind his back and did his best to remain still and to watch. How would the two woman get on if he wasn't here? Might they like each other if there hadn't been this friction between them? Was the age gap between them too wide? There was less than two decades between them so he didn't think so but perhaps his mother might be jealous of her? Tessa had never been particularly vain though.

Maybe Ava could be the friend that the witch seemed to need. A friend that she'd need more than ever if Shae went through with his plan to leave home. He chewed thoughtfully on his lip, gaze a little distant as he considered how best to approach the matter, allowing the communication between the two to fall into the background, a pleasant humming back and forth. Ava's talk was sales patter, pleasantly familiar as it wasn't the aggressive kind that you got from street vendors who were eager to garner your attention so they could foist their goods off on you. This was a gentler sort, subtly persuasive and carrying the confidence of one who felt that their goods spoke for themselves. Judging by Tessa's approving noises and positive comments, the fabrics spoke of themselves quite highly.

The redhead knew his mother well and thus, he could tell that she was impressed. perhaps a bit surprised by that fact but impressed all the same. Loosening up and chattering a bit more freely, she was explaining what sort of things they typically saw, the materials that commonly needed patching. The rise and fall of voices was nice but the content was of little interest to the young man. Instead, he found himself focusing on the tones, imagining that it was music and considering if he could mimic something like it on his guitar. It was all he could do not to hum as he trailed after his mother, the witch discussing clothing and laundering and repairs with an enthusiasm that he'd never be able to understand.

And all the while, he was terribly pleased with himself, reaching out to finger offered fabrics when Tessa didn't seem to notice and shooting shy smiles in Ava's direction if and when she happened to turn her focus to him. At least he could be content that he wasn't being a total idiot anymore. He just needed to hang in here for a little while longer, certain that this encounter couldn't go on much longer; his mother was talking deals and special discounts, services that could be exchanged. Honestly, it'd come down to how long they felt like haggling but it would be a friendly affair, he felt. Tessa seemed open to the idea of a loose partnership, something symbiotic between them.

Even if he didn't get to drop in to see the draper of his own accord, he had a feeling that he'd be seeing a fair bit of her on matters of business before he decided to dust and make his way in the world.


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