A Friendly Visit

Monica is back in Brunnhold, and determined to check out all the newest spots.

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

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Monica Delacore
Posts: 48
Joined: Wed Dec 05, 2018 6:28 pm
Topics: 8
Race: Galdor
Location: Vienda
: mind is willing, soul remains
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Sat Dec 08, 2018 10:49 am

Feldspar Tailoring | Dentis 24, 2718 | Morning
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While most that had been away from home for so long would maybe find themselves laden with homesickness, Monica was... displeased, with her brief return to Brunnhold. She was in town for a week at most, but found herself hoping that something would arise back in Vienda, if only to return faster under the excuse of work. She had spent her childhood wandering through the Stacks, watching the students of Brunnhold with their friends as they visited from the university, and the cobblestone streets were a familiar sound under her shoes.

Though she was not actively working during her short stay, she was in uniform; the green fabrics a nice contrast to blue eyes and platinum-blonde hair. Today was her first day back in Brunnhold, and though she knew she should just go on to her parents' place as intended, she planned on spending the day looking at all the new things in town. She'd heard of plenty of shops and taverns that had opened since her last visit, years ago.

The mid-Dentis morning was overcast, a warning of rain soon to come, but now and then the early sun still shone through cracks in the clouds. It was her favorite type of weather, save for maybe snow, and the Seventen was in a chipper mood for her stroll through the Stacks.

The first place she'd explored had been some sort of eatery; a little place run by a human and his mother. They offered cheap foods and served equally as cheap tastes. Monica wasn't exactly a frequent of fine-dining, not caring to spend her money on expensive food, but she definitely ate a bit... higher class. Garmon nibbles and chocolate sludgecake weren't her idea of a good meal.

Thoroughly disappointed by her first venture, the officer exited the establishment with a few derogatory comments under her breath, but left the owners and patrons alone beyond that. She wasn't in the mood for human conversation.

A shop in front of an alley caught her eye next, mainly due to the clearly-new sign swinging above the shop and the interesting glass of the window. She strolled over, curious about what little wonders could be hiding inside. A tailoring shop wasn't where she expected to end up, but it caught her interest nonetheless, and the galdor opened the front door to walk inside the older building.

It had clearly been cleaned and fixed up, despite the old structure, and the shop had a warm, almost pleasant vibe. She was quite impressed until she looked to the counter.

What was this? A wick sewing clothes for galdori? That was just... eugh. Did the garments not reek of whatever land the wick came from, and bear example to the tribal... nature, of them? She couldn't imagine wearing something so brightly-colored and loose as many wick tribes did.

"You own this shop?" questioned Monica, disdain and disbelief clear in her tone, "I'd like to see your Writ, wick."

As she approached the counter, the woman leaned against it, resting her elbows on the surface as she stared across at the tailor. Her field displayed her irritation with having walked into such an establishment, like heavy air around her form.

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Juniper Feldspar
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Joined: Sun Nov 18, 2018 12:53 pm
Topics: 10
Race: Wick
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Writer: Foxing
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Sun Dec 09, 2018 12:44 pm

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Feldspar Tailoring| Morning
24th DENTIS 2718
Juniper hummed softly to himself as he stitched the buttonholes in Cecelia's uniform blouse, wondering if he could get away with sneaking in a little embroidery to her ribbon necktie. Miranda was curled up into a tight knot on her cushion, motionless as only a reptile can be. Or was she a mammal... he'd never quite worked that one out, not that the classification of her species made any difference to how he cared for the little beast. His embroidered shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and he'd left off his cravat as he normally did when working, preferring the freedom of a loose collar.

He fastened off the thread, and shook out the soft cotton garment, admiring again the neat pin tucks that added style without being inappropriate. Three more buttonholes, then he would add the buttons (mother-of-pearl, naturally), and work on the necktie.

He looked up as the bell tinkled, announcing a new customer's presence, and neatly folded the blouse, laying it on the opposite end of the polished counter to Miranda, fixing the needle into the tiny pincushion on his left wrist... and froze at the sight of Seventen green.

His breath caught in his throat as she noticed his heritage, and he felt her field flare with distaste.

“Ma'am,” he began, but it came out more as a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again, doing his best to damp his nerves and find his professional smile.

“Ma'am, welcome to Feldspar Tailoring. What can I do for you this morning?”

She walked forward briskly, and it took all his self-control not to shrink back.

“...I'd like to see your Writ, wick.”

The disgust with which the word dripped from her lips made him falter ever so slightly, but he'd been warned that this would happen.

...I had hoped the officer would be less antagonistic...just breathe Jun...

“Of course, Ma'am. I keep it clearly displayed, “ and he used the gesture of motioning to the framed Writ of Residence, set on the wall behind the counter, to take a step back and put some distance between himself and the woman who wore her crisp uniform like a couture gown, all ease and certainty.

“I don't own the property outright, but I've the rent paid for a full six months in advance. I can provide the paperwork if you wish.”

He clenched his jaw as she planted her elbows on the counter, not five inches from Miranda's cushion. She clearly hadn't registered the creature's presence yet.

...please like animals, please like animals...don't be that kind of erse...
Last edited by Juniper Feldspar on Tue Aug 06, 2019 10:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Monica Delacore
Posts: 48
Joined: Wed Dec 05, 2018 6:28 pm
Topics: 8
Race: Galdor
Location: Vienda
: mind is willing, soul remains
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Plot Notes: Plot Notes
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Sun Dec 09, 2018 11:22 pm

Feldspar Tailoring | Dentis 24, 2718 | Morning
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The tailor seemed to be having trouble finding his words, Monica catching the nervousness as it just radiated off the man. It was cute, really, in a disgusting kind of way. The shop was still extremely clean and well-put-together, and it made her wonder if the wick had just moved in. Surely it wouldn't stay so nice and tidy after a few months of a rat's residence... they had a tendency to dirty things like that. Like the way they dirtied Vienda so, in their riots, not long before. The memory left a bad taste in her mouth.

Speaking of bad tastes, the clear anxiety in the man brought a bitter taste to her tongue, but also brought a dark smile to her face. All teeth, predatory in nature displaying nice pearly whites ending in sharp edges. What a shame this man was such a lowly creature; he really was quite a sight compared to most of them, and if she was being honest, it looked like he did... unfortunately... excellent work.

Ugh, it made her want to puke that such talent was wasted on a wick.

Monica glanced across to the wall, where the tailor's writ of residence was indeed clearly displayed, and found the revelation to be a disappointment. She would've loved to kick another wick from its "home." Especially one this close to Brunnhold.

"I wasn't aware your kind were allowed so close to the university," she commented, ignoring the tailor's mention of paperwork and rent, "I don't believe that's a good influence o--"

She stopped suddenly, blue eyes falling now upon the sight of a miraan. What in clocking hell was that thing doing on the counter? This was a business, not a damn farm, how did this man even gain permission to stay in the Stacks at all? He was clearly moony.

"What in the circle is that thing doing on the counter? Aren't they... I don't know, animals?" she criticized, pulling her elbows from the counter however remaining quite close to it.

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Juniper Feldspar
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Mon Dec 10, 2018 3:15 pm

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Feldspar Tailoring| Morning
24th DENTIS 2718
The woman smiled, and ice ran down his spine.

He'd met galdor like this. The ones that weren't...polite. The ones that didn't just think they were superior, but knew it with every fibre of their being, the ones who felt slighted to breathe the same air as a lesser creature. The ones who would take any excuse, no matter how small, to exert their power, their dominance- to show people like him their place in the dirt.

They were the reason he'd trained himself out of speaking Tek, the reason he would always wear his waistcoat in the shop or around the Stacks, no matter the weather, the reason his father had nine fingers.

And by the Circle, she would not touch his girl, even if it cost him a beating.

"Indeed, miraan are animals, but very intelligent and eminently trainable."

He heard the words escape from his lips as if from a distance, a kind of fog between himself and the detestable situation that was forming, his accent becoming crisp and clipped.

"This one forms an important link in my business communications, allowing clients to approve designs and fabrics without making the tedious journey to my store. She is very well trained, and carries the same insignia you see on my sign on the collar around her neck, though of course that is difficult to pick out when she is so soundly asleep."

He glanced down at Miranda, still twisted motionless in her knot and blissfully unaware of the biting tension in the shop. The tooling on her wide collar was indeed hidden, but it held his mock coat of arms, her name, and his business. More of a harness if he was honest, it hooked over the front and back of her wings and held clips for attaching the scroll case that he sent with her on official business. He'd had it made only a couple of days before- when she'd returned with the last client's note in her mouth, it had been raining. The ink had run making it dearly indecipherable, and he'd realised that a more professional method of carrying communications was in order.

Implying that the matter of the miraan was settled, he continued,

"Is this a purely official visit, Ma'am, or is there anything I can do for you in my professional capacity?"

His 'appropriate' smile was back, he stood ramrod straight, and though a part of his mind flailed behind the hard shell, outwardly he was the perfect picture of a respectful wick businessman. He didn't dare imagine what his field was broadcasting ...but I can't do anything about that...
Last edited by Juniper Feldspar on Tue Aug 06, 2019 10:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Monica Delacore
Posts: 48
Joined: Wed Dec 05, 2018 6:28 pm
Topics: 8
Race: Galdor
Location: Vienda
: mind is willing, soul remains
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Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer Profile: Writer Profile
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Tue Dec 11, 2018 12:20 am

Feldspar Tailoring | Dentis 24, 2718 | Morning
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The wick's demeanor seemed to shift before her very eyes; his body going rigid as he spoke in a professional, almost irritated tone of voice. Clearly the miraan was quite dear to him, as she had seemed to strike a nerve. The thought brought her lips to curve again, red lips displaying the same smile, as if knowing that she had bothered him brought her joy. It did.

Mainly because she could see straight through him. He put up that professional, polite exterior, but it was clear just how the wick was really feeling. He was nervous, that had been painfully clear from the start, but there was more. Irritation with her immediate jabs at his beloved pet, and her all-so-familiar galdori way of questioning him. She knew it must have been a common occurrence for the poor rat to have his superiors stride in and think themselves above him simply because of their race.

It was the truth. Which is exactly why Monica found no issue with doing the same.

"I didn't ask you for her life's purpose," she said, cold glare flying off of the miraan and instead to view the tailor.

"Do you think I asked because I'm curious about learning the logistics of your shop and that thing?" the question was clearly rhetorical, "no, I asked why the hell it's on the counter. I suppose your kind doesn't have much concern for their customers, do they, but I can't blame you the faults of your race, I suppose. All of you seem to be bred with the same ones."

Monica's field was a sudden burst of annoyance, dropping the smile.

"Purely official. I admit I was interested in the contents of your shop... however, I find your kind a bit too untrustworthy to rationally purchase your services. Surely you're different from the rest, I see from your tidy workplace that you can actually function regularly, but with the political climate as it is... well. You can't blame a girl for wanting to make sure you're not here illegally, now can you?"

The blonde took a breath, her field calming at the action, "I wont hesitate to send you back to whatever moony tribe birthed you, should I ever hear an unsavory word about this establishment. It just makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside to watch your kind get driven out of one city after another. Have I made myself clear? Or do you need me to say it in that gods-awful gutter language?"

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Juniper Feldspar
Posts: 86
Joined: Sun Nov 18, 2018 12:53 pm
Topics: 10
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Wed Dec 12, 2018 4:13 am

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Feldspar Tailoring| Morning
24th DENTIS 2718
"She's on the counter because they don't do well in cages, they are clean and very smart, and because this particular one gets restless and anxious if she's on her own without a direct errand, so I keep her close.”

He was breathing faster and his tone becoming even less subservient, bordering on sharp, but he didn't seem to be able to do anything about it.

The sensible part of him, the part that admitted her technical authority and knew what she could do to him with full support of the law, that part of him was screaming to shut up, stand back, just take it.

...first week...clocking hell do not screw this up...

The majority of him, however, was furious at this woman who dared stride into his shop as though she owned the place, as though she owned HIM.

“...and not one of my customers has complained, on the contrary in fact.”

...shut up...


Nostrils flared as the wick crossed his arms, straightening up to his full, admittedly not impressive, height. His field flared with aggression before he could bring it level again.

“I have no interest in the activities of foolish dissidents who bring down the law on themselves and their loved ones. I have worked hard to get here and I'm damned well staying. Purchase my services or not as you choose, I have plenty of custom.”

...you are raising your voice to a Seventen SHUT UP...

The muscles of his bare forearms twitched as though he were clenching his fists, and he took a step forward so he was against the counter once more.

“I can assure you that you will never find a reason to force me out. And have you heard a word of clocking Tek pass my lips since you've been in here judging me? I speak 'properly' in polite company thank you very much.”

...bitch...

It was quite a sight. The wick was clearly furious despite his attempts to hold his anger in check, though on his face it was in no way threatening, more like a fox cub screaming at its mother.
Last edited by Juniper Feldspar on Tue Aug 06, 2019 10:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Monica Delacore
Posts: 48
Joined: Wed Dec 05, 2018 6:28 pm
Topics: 8
Race: Galdor
Location: Vienda
: mind is willing, soul remains
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer Profile: Writer Profile
Contact:

Fri Dec 14, 2018 5:16 pm

Feldspar Tailoring | Dentis 24, 2718 | Morning
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Oh, how typical. A wick bolstering himself up to speak out. Every word that escaped the tailor's lips seemed only to betray a little bit more of that anger; that frustration with the Seventen for coming in his shop and disrespecting him with her every breath. In her first year or two as an officer, it had only brought her anger when the rats decided to retaliate, to counter her arguments and insults, but these days it hardly made a dent in her well-crafted facade.

In fact it did the opposite, the galdor's amusement seeming to grow with the wick's frustration. It brought a lightness to her features, a genuine entertainment she only found when stomping upon little creatures such as him. By his finishing statement it was all too much for the Seventen; the way he spoke as if his counters actually had meaning--

It made her laugh, a sound that started from her diaphragm and erupted from her mouth. It was a joyful and delighted noise, a painted red smile that brought out the dimples in her cheeks.

"Oh, my," breathed Monica, the woman attempting to catch her breath and resting a hand upon her stomach, "You--you--"

She couldn't even speak, she was laughing too hard.

It took a minute for her to calm down, bringing deep breaths into her lungs and having to actually wipe a tear from her eye. Monica cleared her throat, allowing her arms to rest at her sides again as she stepped close to the counter. Her focus was clear on the tailor now, her hostilities only diminished slightly by her genuine amusement.

"You're funny, for a rat. It amuses me so that you think I actually care about what you're saying."

The blonde's gaze flicked over to the miraan again before back to the wick in front of her.

"Consider yourself lucky that you've been such an entertaining host. If you ever even think about talking to a Seventen officer like that again, rest assured, I will be back."

Monica pushed off from the counter, starting to walk backwards to the front door, predatory gaze still trained on the tailor.

"And I will not be arresting you."

The galdor left with the threat, exiting the shop with a joyful bounce to her blonde hair.

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Juniper Feldspar
Posts: 86
Joined: Sun Nov 18, 2018 12:53 pm
Topics: 10
Race: Wick
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
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Writer: Foxing
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Wed Jan 16, 2019 10:29 am

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Feldspar Tailoring| Morning
24th DENTIS 2718
Breathing hard, teeth gritted, Juniper watched as she laughed, tears of anger and frustration threatening to spill.

It was humiliating, which was clearly the woman's intention, and his flushed cheeks twitched with the effort of keeping a straight face, of keeping quiet.

That was all he would get, he knew from her words and her tone. She might be amused now, but any more cheek and she would not be laughing, she would be ruining him.

She left, curls bouncing and her vicious laughter still ringing in his ears.

The wick found himself grasping for something, anything, on the countertop as the door swung closed, and his hand fell on his coffee mug.

One sharp movement and it was dashed across the room, smashing against the door and leaving a spray of lukewarm coffee across his pristine floor, shards of china flying everywhere.

Miranda started up, keening at the noise, and he dissolved into sobs, thudding down on his knees behind the counter, arms desperately wrapped around himself as though he could hold himself together with sheer force of will.

...don't...don't do it...never talk back...


...never give them cause.
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