Feldspar Tailoring

A Grand Opening, all welcome

Open for Play
Brunnhold's college town, located inside the university grounds.

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Juniper Feldspar
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Mon Nov 19, 2018 5:26 pm

Dentis 20th,
10 O'clock

Juniper glanced up from his work again, checking for the tenth time that he hadn't missed the chiming of the little silver bell, but the shop was still empty.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Miranda chirped sleepily, raising her little head to rub against his knuckles when he pulled the thread taut, her silver wings rustling out once, twice, before she re-wound herself into an even tighter knot and settled once more. The miraan always knew when he was anxious, and this was a clocking anxious morning.

He set down the reticule he was beading for a moment, and stood up from behind the well-scrubbed counter. When he'd come to this place it had been filthy, but the wick had put in so much work over the last two weeks to get it perfect. All the wood was shining with a soft, honey glow, the inset panels in the counters lined with purple brocade in a floral pattern that complimented his own lilac waistcoat. The myriad tiny warped panes of glass in the large bow window were polished to a gleam, and as he ran both hands through his short auburn hair, he smiled a nervous smile, watching them sparkle as they caught the morning sunlight.

Juniper stretched once, his back cracking, adjusted his dove-grey cravat, tweaked for the fifth time the position of the decanter of cherry wine on the counter (awaiting the hopeful arrival of distinguished clientele), and sat once more.

"I had enough leaflets printed, surely..." he mused, and stroked Miranda with the back of his knuckles, before picking up the reticule and threading one more pearl onto his needle.

It was fruitless to worry, really. He knew that he had advertised well, and all he could do now was be welcoming and engaging for anyone who'd picked up one of the printed slips, detailing his services, location, and the refreshments laid on for his Grand Opening.

Just a bit to the left, maybe... and his hand reached out to nudge the decanter.

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Ignatius
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Thu Nov 22, 2018 7:23 am

20 Dentis 2718 | Morning
Feldspar Tailoring
It was with a particular dramatic flourish that Ignatius flipped the end of his silk scarf over his shoulder. In the crisp light the Journalist squinted through the lenses of his glasses, the rest of him loosely wrapped up in his colours – deep red, high collar of his coat hanging from him. He did not quite understand why the Anaxi called it cold; this was a most comfortable temperature back in Gior. Yet, here he was after being ridiculed on several occasions for being underdressed. So he accepted their prods and obliged them such as the son of ambassadors should. It did not mean that the Galdor did not find the Anaxi awfully stifling with their fashion. So many harsh edges and straight lines, no wonder they were all tight laced all the time with their laws. If only they learned how to relax, to embrace the various arts and flavours of the world… Then perhaps they would find a better way to keep their so called lessers in line.

But that was not his concern this day.

No, today was attending to the needs of his Director which in turn meant he had to turn his attention to the new pet secretary of the paper. Such a tiny being she was, but apparently needed to look the part for the career she had currently chosen. The Journalist was therefore given this task. Behind his scarf his lip twitched with annoyance. Just because he had a healthy sense of fashion did not mean he wanted to waste his time tending to this woman –

Then again, a low collar, or perhaps a wrap? A long skirt… Shoes, as well, small points… all thin and straight mind. Maybe a high back-

The Galdor blinked. No, he would much rather be working on the premise of his newest novel. Not playing dress up.

At least he attempted to convince himself of that.

Striding on he came to the first of one of the supposedly quaint tailors who tended to the lesser. Slender fingers plucked out a sheet of paper, the elegant scrawling of the Galdor dancing along the surface. It was a list the Director forced him to write, a strict list that the company would cover on this occasion. Such a cruel torment. The eyes scanned the front briefly, wondering if he could spy the human he was to provide for-

-a happy human is a good human-

-and upon not seeing her, promptly entered the establishment. His field prickled immediately, pulsating with curiosity. White teeth flashed into a smile, eyes scanning around the room, resting only briefly on the owner of the establishment.

Aybehay.

He was tempted to let his field all but smother the wick, before manners reminded him to behave – it was improper, and with it the field returned back down to a light hum of restraint. The pink eyes danced away, the rest of him following along. Fingers stroked the thin layer of stubble upon his chin, the other arm cupping his elbow as he studied the various fabrics that revealed themselves to him. He would wait for now, and amuse himself in the meanwhile.

The distinctly foreign accent purred out, “Tell me, Tailor, where do you source your silks from?”
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Juniper Feldspar
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Thu Nov 22, 2018 9:01 am

The silver bell tinkled merrily as the tall galdor strode in, and Juniper looked up from his beading, quashing his rising excitement, merely allowing himself a bright and welcoming smile as he stood up behind the counter. Deft fingers swiftly fastened off the thread, eyes not looking down but fixed politely on his first customer.

Calm, calm, he told himself, good impression...

"Good morning, sir." He greeted the man, taking a brief mental inventory of first the galdor's garb, then his person.

The scarf, the coat, so louchely worn-comfort with style, some disregard for custom - The waistcoat, with its sharp pattern-a clear mind, that knows exactly what it wants -Those spectacles- hmm, I wonder where he gets them...NO don't ask.. but overall, individuality, with a clear eye for style and what suits him.

He noted the unusual height, unusual colouring, the broader shoulders with some... personal appreciation that he very carefully ignored.

Clearly galdor, but... foreign, maybe?

At the man's query, his eyes brightened, and, gesturing briefly at the brightly coloured bolts stacked neatly on the racking behind him, he answered,

"Dupion, taffeta and slubbed silks are all from Hox, though my supplier brings in their satins and chiffons from Mugroba, he feels they have a smoother weave, and I'm inclined to agree. Bear with me a moment.."

Juniper held up a finger as he ducked briefly to retrieve a large, leatherbound tome from a shelf below the counter. Forgetting its weight, he tried to lift it with one hand and his wrist buckled as it left the support of the shelf. He gave a swift indrawn breath and grabbed at it with both hands, knocking one sharply on the edge of the counter, but managed to avoid dropping it, and set it down on the countertop, turning it to face away from him with a short cough, face flushed with embarrassment.

"Here are all the shades I can order in," he explained, ignoring his racing heartbeat and opening the book to a page covered in a rainbow of neat little fabric squares, each one labelled with a word and a number in meticulous copperplate script. "I only stock the most popular colours at present, plenty of greens of course, but I can always buy in small amounts of any of these for a specific order should a client request it."
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Cecelia Driscoll
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Thu Nov 22, 2018 11:17 am

20 Dentis 2718
MORNING
Cecelia was late and she hated being late.

The cause for her lateness was the little 1-year-old bouncing on her hip as she ran. Galiya had thrown a major tantrum when Cecelia was getting her ready to go and it took her a good 20 minutes to calm her daughter down enough that she could finish dressing her.

As she hurriedly made her way to the tailor that Journalist Vinter had told her to meet him at, her mind was a swirl of thoughts. The fact that the Director had ordered Vinter to get her some decent clothes a mere week into her job both excited her and filled her with dread. The business wouldn’t be investing in decent clothes if they didn’t plan on keeping her around.

But she worried that she would end up in debt to the company. She had heard horror stories about Galdori companies doing things that would look kind to anyone not actually working with the company, like renting houses out to their workers or providing a general store for the workers to buy their living supplies from. There was a catch to those “kind” acts, though. The Galdori often charged a ridiculous amount to the workers for rent and goods, keeping the poor workers practically permanently in debt. It mostly happened in the mines, but she wasn’t sure that she trusted the Galdori not to expand the practice to other types of companies, since she was sure it saved companies a good amount of money if they got to dock workers’ pay for the rent and goods they provided.

She found the shop she was looking for and hurriedly entered. She swore to herself as she saw that Journalist Vinter was already there, pouring over some samples with the man who must own the shop. “Morning! Sorry I’m late!” she said, trying to catch her breath.

Galiya giggled, pulling at Cecelia’s headscarf. “No,” Cecelia said, firmly, for the 15th time since they left the house. Galiya pouted, her eyes tearing up, and Cecelia sighed. She shifted Galiya to better free up a hand and dug into her carrying bag, pulling out Galiya’s “doll”. She handed the girl a sock that had been stuffed and had a face drawn on it with pen. Galiya laughed and swung the “doll” around, hitting Cecelia in the face with its head.

“It is going to be a day, isn’t it?” Cecelia thought to herself, sighing.
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Ignatius
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Tue Nov 27, 2018 5:00 am

20 Dentis 2718 | Morning
Feldspar Tailoring
It was behind the field of rose tinted glasses that the Galdor studied the Tailor. His lips were set into a line, the glasses lowering enough so he could peer at him from above his brass rims. How cute, he was trying to impress and engage. Ignatius allowed some mock interest, gaze following the arm to the bolts. Greens were popular, it was a young person’s city; a colour associated with youth. He sauntered to the counter, removing his glasses so he could study the shades before him unmarred by a tint of pink. His voice purred, “Fascinating.”

He wondered, briefly, if the Dupion was the one his second – or was it third? – cousin cooed over; but he doubted it. There were numerous producers of fine materials throughout the world. He was rubbing his stubble with thought when the chorus of noise entered. The eyes snapped away, sharpening and drinking in the shape of the human, “CeiCei, how nice of you to join us. I will presume there was some good reason for your lateness, but it is of little… concern that you are.”

And then he noticed the child.

Ignatius blinked. Twice.

Children were not his forte, and as it currently stood he was not about to throw himself into the responsibility of such. Parenthood was something he avoided; he enjoyed the comforts of being a bachelor far too much. Meaningful romantic engagements were very similar -if he had needs he found ways to achieve them. He returned his glasses, straightening out the rest of his form. Hands clasping behind his back he flashed a smile to the human, “And little CeiCei I presume? I assume the little one will be a treasure, hmm?”

In actuality he highly doubted that; he remembered his youngest cousins being a menace. Still, he kept the smile there – hand shifting to one of his coat pockets. He grasped upon the note, reading through it, “So now we are both here, as you are aware the Director wishes you held a uniform suitable for your position. He also suggested this quaint establishment so we can at least survey it for future endeavours.”

Ignatius was deliberately far from subtle, words weighted and pointed towards the Tailor. It was a challenge, silent as it was, for him to see if he could meet expectations. Clearing his throat, less it would crack under the restrains placed upon him, Ignatius worked his way through the list, “The director has instructed the following, in combination or thereof – two Blouses and skirts, or two dresses. A suitable set of gloves – he said something about a lady’s hands must be protected from the elements. Shawl, the office can get… what is the word? Chilled during the winter, apparently. I have not noticed.”

He flicked the thought away with his free hand, “I wish to say Jacket, but I believe that may be the wrong word. Some layer that can go over the main body, ready for wearing inside and out. Then, any small additional accessories that I may deem appropriate at the time. I have no thoughts, yet. I… believe that is all. No frills, keep it simple in design. Do apply buttons where appropriate. The Director wishes that any colours that are used are not bold. Perhaps a blue? Unless you have a better suggestion?”
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Juniper Feldspar
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Wed Nov 28, 2018 7:32 am

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Feldspar Tailoring| Morning
20th DENTIS 2718
Juniper was flustered, and trying very hard not to show it.

...you're trying too hard...just calm down...

Unfortunately, when you know you have very little control over your field, have already dropped your sample book and smacked your hand on the counter -not to mention trying desperately not to think about how attractive your very first customer is- it is decidedly difficult to calm down, especially when...

...oh clocking hell, does he always talk like that...

The wick cleared his throat uncomfortably, but just then, the bell pealed again, and Juniper's head snapped up as he grasped at the interruption like a drowning man clinging to a rope. Then he saw who it was, and relief poured through him. He had a moment of concern as he realised she'd brought Galiya with her, but reassured himself that she wouldn't have brought her daughter to his shop were she not sure that the young one would behave.

He caught her eye, smiled broadly and mouthed 'Just a moment-', then winced in sympathy as the stuffed sock hit her over the head.

A brief thought flashed through his mind- wonder if she'd be offended if I whipped up something nicer for the girl- before cutting off as the striking galdor turned to greet the tailor's only local friend.

It was a moment before Juniper realised the connection- Cecelia had talked about a new job, at the newspaper offices. This was an official visit, then?

As the man started talking, clearly expecting Juniper to keep up, the wick quickly reached for the looseleafed notebook and the little pencil he had carefully placed under the counter for just such eventualities, and took notes of everything mentioned in neat, quick copperplate.

...future endeavours... he repeated to himself, and the nerves banished by Cecelia's appearance began to take hold again.
...the possibility of a uniform contract, even informal, on my first day? Circle help me...

He rallied, straightening up from where he had been leaning on the counter, pencil still in hand, and gestured briefly at the silks.

"May I presume, sir, that you were not thinking of such fabrics for workwear?" He kept his tone light and respectful, desperate not to cause offence. "For an office position, especially as Cecelia's work involves the use of a typewriter, may I suggest navy blue cotton drill? Smart, plain, holds its shape well and is easily washed at home, and the colour will ensure that any stains are not noticeable. Perhaps covered buttons and piping in navy sateen? That would add a professional air without being vulgar, and in keeping with her position."

He paused, ideas racing.

"For the makeup of the set, a blouse and skirt combination is most versatile. A white blouse, with a navy ribbon at the collar perhaps?"

He remembered himself suddenly, and gestured to the decanter on the counter. "Would you like some refreshment while I draw up some designs and pull out samples? Cherry wine, or I'm sure Cecelia wouldn't mind making up a pot of coffee, fortuitously she knows where everything is." He smiled at her then, hoping she understood why he wasn't addresing her directly.

He'd caught the rich aroma that hung around the galdor, and prayed he'd guessed the man's preferences correctly.






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Lars
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: nil igitur mors est ad nos
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Wed Nov 28, 2018 11:18 am

Feldspar Tailoring || Dentis 20, 2718 || Morning
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It had been far too long since he had left the long halls and exhausting, hot kitchens of the university, so when an opportunity arose to catch a breath of fresh air, Lars had jumped on it. In actuality, he couldn't recall the last time he had stepped foot outside of Brunnhold, and felt almost like a fugitive on the run once he did.

But no matter, his orders had been clear: order a few silky hankies monogrammed with the initials of their owner. Said owner being some... galdori student he couldn't recall the name of. It might be tricky to remember her initials.

He was more concerned with the rare occurrence of getting to go outside, which might, honestly, come back to bite him, but ah well. Lars kept his head down more so than usual now that he strolled through the open streets, his step quick and heartbeat racing but expression remaining neutral. Avoiding interaction as much as possible was the best idea for now; he didn't want to call unnecessary attention to himself.

The student had been very clear: get the hankies now, or else. Or else what, he hadn't bothered to ask, he had simply run along as quickly as he could and left before anyone had the chance to notice his absence. While typically his fellow passives were allowed out only in pairs, Lars had never actually been outside during his sixteen years at Brunnhold, and the student's dire orders were the only thing on his mind at current.

It was soon after that he came across his destination, a fine little tailor's shop, and took a moment's hesitation to breathe outside. He could do this. All he needed to do was be polite, explain what was needed, and get back to Brunnhold as quickly as possible.

Oh, this was clocking hard.

Taking another deep breath to psyche himself up, Lars opened the door, immediately aware of two fields--one stronger than the other, he noticed--and admittedly almost going to shut the door. Steeling himself, the passive walked in, keeping his head down and sticking to the front by the door. He was already out of his mind just being in here with a galdor, a clear wick, and... was that a human? Oh it most certainly was, with another little one, to boot. He wasn't going to just walk up to the counter and interrupt.

The galdor was certainly better dressed than he, but this was to be expected. Lars had come to accept that he would long be confined to his dull uniform, but still, being in a tailor's shop made him wonder. A passive could at least have his dreams.
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Cecelia Driscoll
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Thu Nov 29, 2018 10:13 am

20 DENTIS 2718
MORNING
Cecelia nodded at Ignatius' comment about Galiya. "When she wants to be, yes," she laughed.

She walked over to the counter and leaned over a bit to look at the sample book. "Yes, the Director made it very clear that my current style of dress is not appropriate for the office," she replied.

Cecelia bit her lip a bit as Galiya reached out and waved both hands at Journalist Vinter, as if she wanted to hug him. "Pretty!!" the baby exclaimed. Cecelia bit her lip harder to keep from laughing, glad that she had positioned herself far enough away from Journalist Vinter that the baby couldn't actually touch him.

Her eyes widened a bit as Journalist Vinter listed off all the pieces of clothing that the Director had requested. "Oh, Alioe. Please let all those things remain company property. I'll be paying for them for years if I have to pay the company back," she thought to herself.

Then she worriedly looked at Juniper as he frantically scribbled down the order and ideas. Cecelia hoped that she hadn't overstepped her bounds when she recommended Juniper's shop to the Director. He had threatened to fire her if she didn't get better clothes and, without thinking, she had pointed out that an excellent shop was opening soon. But poor Juniper looked like he was about ready to have a heart attack. She gave him an encouraging smile. "That sounds like it'd be both sturdy and attractive, Mister Feldspar. Of course, the final approval will be Journalist Vinter's. He has a much better idea of what would be appropriate and fashionable in a Galdori office than I do," she piped in.

"Chin up. You're doing fine," she thought to herself, as if Juniper could somehow pick up her thoughts.

"Yes, coffee would be good," Cecelia said cheerfully when Juniper made the suggestion. "If you'd like something, I will happily get it, Journalist Vinter."

She looked up as another gollie entered the shop. The poor thing looked like he was about ready to vomit from nerves. (Who would've thought that she would ever think of a gollie as a poor thing?) "Hello! Mister Feldspar will be with you in a minute. Would you like something to drink, Sir?" she asked. "I can make some coffee and there's cherry wine."
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Ignatius
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Mon Dec 03, 2018 5:03 am

20 Dentis 2718 | Morning
Feldspar Tailoring
Much to the delight of Ignatius, the wick squirmed - his lip gave a small tug of amusement. The Galdor watched, chin lifting while his fingers counted through the list he had made. A few slow nods, there was a brief flicker of a wary glance to the tiny human; a more noticeable larger step away out of reach of the tiny grasping hands. If it was not clear before that he was cautious around children, it was obvious now - though it was definitely far from malicious intent. He did however; flash a small polite smile to the creature while the tailor spoke. Laughter rolled out, a rich noise that bubbled up from his stomach, “Zeu. No, no. I have a much more personal interest in regards to silks. I find they are much more suited for times of relaxation than that of work.”

Watching another customer come in – his eyes only briefly scanned the high Galdor features before noticing the distinct lack of field – he continued to speak, “As it seems to meet the satisfaction of the lady, then I suppose we are… at an accord? No.” He clicked his fingers together, eyes scanning the rest of the store as he searched for the word, “Agreement? Yes that sounds better. I believe it will please the director immensely. Skirt, blouse, you know the rest I shall save you from the boredom of repeating it. I entrust you will meet the requirements.”

The Journalist shot another glance to the passive, a small tilt of the head before he returned his attention to the page of silks. He gave a curious lift of the page to peer at the other fabrics behind it, noting the other materials available before returning to the presented silks. His field shifted as he focused, the instructors would have referred to it as indectal – the internal cogs whirling as a more business mind-set took over.

Now why is a little Veay doing outside of Brunnhold alone? A task perhaps? Then where is the other one? Oh my, a naughty one. How daring.

The mention of coffee however caused a small blip. Inching, the field wavered as it processed the thought. It warmed, a slow careful nodding, “Coffee, good sir, would be most delightful. So good of you to be a host while working.”

And the context that Cecelia knows this Feldspar? How cute.

Flicking his hand, he returned to his contemplation, “But please, tend to the others. I believe the young man who has entered is most certainly pressed for time. Then, when he is done I am certain he will wish to be quickly on his way. And besides, I am currently entrapped in contemplation. My own, personal inquiries can wait.” Ignatius’ head turned to the secretary, the thick accent rolling out. He smiled as he always did, eyes bright from behind those tinted lenses, “And, darling, if you would be a dear and note down the measurements. So the business has a record.”

Humming, the Journalist paused, “Dark, strong and bitter CeiCei. The way I like most things.”
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Juniper Feldspar
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Mon Dec 03, 2018 4:04 pm

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LOCATION | TIME
00 MONTH 2718
Juniper had looked over when the passive entered, despite his attention being fixed on the galdori gentleman currently flicking through his sample book- he allowed himself a moment of pride at its neat, pleasing layout- and caught his eye with a smile, acknowledging that as proprietor he had noted the man's presence, and would be with him when time allowed.

...and here I thought they weren't permitted to leave the grounds alone...must have been mistaken...

He relaxed somewhat as Cecelia spoke, glad that she approved of his suggestions, and smiled gratefully when she readily agreed to help him with refreshments.

"Thank you- and remember, careful on the fifth step, the carpet's a little loose!"

Turning back to... Journalist Vinter?... he's a writer.... he listened attentively as the man continued speaking. ...and he knows his fabrics...

Vinter's field fluctuated briefly at the mention of coffee, and Juniper felt himself flush at the mild praise that followed in the galdor's rich tones.

"Well," he explained with a shy smile, "I hope I can give my clients an enjoyable visit, I know these experiences can be tiresome." Gesturing towards the back of the shop, where a couple of comfortable-looking walnut chairs, upholstered in plush lavender velvet, accompanied a small round polished table, he added, "If you would prefer to take a seat while you wait, the fitting room is very well equipped."

On closer inspection, the furthest part of the shop could be closed off with a heavy cream brocade curtain that was currently held back with a tasseled lilac cord, and a triptych of tall, standing mirrors reflected the light from a pair of small oil lamps that burned in wall sconces, turned down low, giving off just enough light to add to the daylight that filtered through to the windowless rear of the room.

"Otherwise, the other folder on the counter holds some examples of my previous work."

He nearly stammered to a halt at the words 'personal inquiries', but he caught himself in time and carried on smoothly.

"How very generous of you, sir- I will attend to this gentleman, and who knows, I may have some sketches for you by the time Cecelia returns." He attempted to inject a little levity into the words, and told himself he was imagining that quaver in his voice.

Juniper slid smoothly out from behind the counter, leaving the journalist to his 'contemplation', and approached the newcomer. The poor man looked even more nervous that he himself felt, and Juniper's heart went out to him. Smiling warmly, he greeted the man.

"Good morning sir, how can I help?"

Hearing a chirp from behind him, he took a sharp indrawn breath.

..no, not now...

He turned his head to see the little miraan wriggle, spread her wings and beat up into the air, circling once, twice, over Vinter's head before swooping down and past him to land...on the shoulder of the shrinking passive.
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