Blacksmith
Unknown.
Single.
New Denzien
Offline.
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Post by Valanor on Oct 23, 2017 13:40:33 GMT
Apathy breeds misery and Valanor's appreciation for the dull drone of markets was like mithril, impenetrable and hard to find. Narrowly edging through the horde of sticky bodies of sweat and fresh perfume the smith gradually found his way to a clothing store. Unfortunately due to some annoying irregularity of his choice of form, he'd found it very hard to find a place that sold clothing suited to taller individuals. Either the cuffs were to short or the leg made him look like something resembling a bloated puffin. Royalty as it turned out enjoyed looking like mushrooms and elven men liked wearing dresses. Thus the pain staking dilemma of fashion had reared it's head once again, over the past ten years the dragon had successfully burned most of his wardrobe and it was time to get something new.
A soft ringing of a bell welcomed Valanor through the small wooden door into a shop of quaint, simplistic design. Decorated with elaborately carved wooden etchings of small flowers, the elegant birch of the wood glistened in the reflection of the light of the sunlight. While the flowers themselves were probably the most complex thing inside of the room, there was one other object of interest that the dragon could never quite wrap his head around; the lines of folded clothes. Lined up in a neat order, sets of clothing were displayed for the public to browse. One of these decades he would have to ask a woman to give him directions with this kind of thing, clothing had been trivial as a dragon and to him it still was. Why humans chose to cover themselves at all was bizarre to him, other than for survival purposes. Humanity even had an aversion toward their own forms, making a point to scarcely appear naked in public.
"Excuse me," the smith wandered over to the counter with a solemn smile and rung the bell "do you have anything I can wear?" Neglected to take care of his appearance the smith had arrived as scruffy as you like, face covered in soot and holes scattered over his clothing from where he'd torn them over a blade. Smithing left no room for cleanliness, nor the time to hang about. He wanted to get this over as quickly as possible.
@olwyn
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Seamstress
Hetero.
Single.
Human
Authored by Rook.
Offline.
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Post by Olwyn Coombs on Oct 24, 2017 2:42:11 GMT
Olwyn didn't work in the clothing shop, rather she worked in the confines of the small house that she and her father shared. Her seamstress work was mostly used by denziens who had ripped their fancy dresses or needing dirty clothing washed. She was surprised when a local shop owner has ask her to help out for a day. Her daughter was heavily pregnant and unable to keep up with the shop. Olwyn, she knew to be from good people and had known Olwyn's father since their youth. Or so she said while yammering on to the young woman. And so, completely out of her element Owlyn sat on the tiny stool behind the counter. Watching the door nervously for customers to enter.
Eventually someone did. A rather tall man who was imposing without even trying to be. Just striding through the room he commanded control and Olwyn's green eyes drifted down to the worn wood of the counter as he milled about. Jumping slightly when he addressed her with a question. She looked up at him, truly taking him in for the first time. A slow smile came to her lips as she took in the clothes of a working man. Probably not someone who would be too harsh with her if she made a mistake, at least she hoped. She could sew with the best of them but she was out of her element here.
"I-um..." She slipped off the stool and straightened her simple ivory dress then moved around the counter. Picking up a small piece of rope that served as a measuring tool. She couldn't read nor write, it simply wasn't an important skill to people of her class who would work their fingers to the bone doing the jobs no one else cared to. She held up the thin strand of rope and hesitated, blushing slightly when she spoke again. "Can I measure you? The shop owner keeps a few things in the back premade but-" Her green eyes slipped down his lanky frame again. "-I don't know if they would fit. I could sew you something if not, I just need to know the sizing."
She was a good woman, she worked to care for her father. She didn't waste her time with fun and games. She didn't resent anyone because it was her lot in life to work like a mule. She also had very little experience with men so just the act of measuring this stranger for clothing felt...obtrusive. "What do you do? If I can ask...you look as if you've had a long day."
Valanor
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Blacksmith
Unknown.
Single.
New Denzien
Offline.
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Post by Valanor on Oct 24, 2017 12:10:38 GMT
Wordless his eyes followed the beautiful, thin woman that stepped over toward the counter. He could hear the hesitation hidden behind the gentleness in her composure and offered the girl a wide, toothy grin. After almost eight thousand years of mingling with humans he had taught himself to read their mannerisms. Amused by the gesture he watched the colour of her cheeks ripen a shade of red as she pointedly held out a long strand of numbered tape in front of her. Confusion became prevalent in his expression, did he need to do something?
Uncertain the smith gingerly removed the ragged, hole torn shirt from over his chest and draped it over his arm with a look of wonder. He'd never been certain how garment makers did their long, tedious, fiddly work but he at least admired the beauty in some of it. A woman wrapped in jewels and pretty gift wrap had often been a treat for him back in the day, now he was 'human' though he'd had to put up with advances from other creatures. They were often too stupid for him to even care to take the time for or just plain sore to look at, this one though; for some reason he liked this one. "Don't know my size," he admitted, casually closing the space between them "your work is better than anything this owner could do anyway." For once he was sincere, commercial stores usually gave out what was easy to make. At the very least this way he would be able to actually wear the clothing he ordered.
Valanor lowered his gaze to meet hers. For but a moment the shop was nothing more than a backdrop of colour and noise. They were close, closer than he'd been to anyone in over a year without intending anything sinister. "I'm a weapon and armour smith," a warm mirth softened his hardened features "And you, do you do anything other than sewing or measuring strange men?" Never mind the smears of soot or scars scattered across his human flesh, the smith knew he wasn't the picture of cleanliness. In fact he could barely remember a day that he had been, unless he was in search of lady favours and not the kind where he would pay women to indulge in his body. Valanor was a proud man, he had always made an effort to keep himself in good form and wouldn't ever allow some low class harlot earn money for touching him. Strength was a thing that was earned and over the years he had been able to push this human body to its limits to turn it something worthy of his name.
"What do you need me to do?"
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Seamstress
Hetero.
Single.
Human
Authored by Rook.
Offline.
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Post by Olwyn Coombs on Oct 25, 2017 20:44:19 GMT
Olwyn had waited for the man to give her the ok to measure him, mentally steeling herself to not be so nervous. It was rare that she had the chance to work on clothing from the start, to actually need to measure someone. She held the simple rope in hand and started to step forward but then the man moved, pulling his torn and tattered shirt over his head and leaving her staring at the smooth expanse of his chest covered in soot and grime. Her eyes widened, she was staring and she couldn't help it but suddenly she turned her gaze away with a soft clearing of her throat. "You didn't need to undress." She said softly.
He moved closer and the action was enough to pull her green eyes back to him. She searched his face for any sign that he was joking or poking fun at her but timidly smiled all the same. "I doubt that but thank you." She fiddled with the rope. Waiting for the moment that she should interject and actually start her work instead of standing there looking awkward. At the mention of what he did Olwyn visibly perked up a bit. "That would explain all the soot..." She said softly with just the slightest hint of a teasing tone to her words. "But that's wonderful. All the things you must be able to make. Armor that keeps people safe and alive. It must feel wonderful to be so useful." She stepped forward a little closer, holding out the rope but stopped short when he hit her with another question.
She blinked then shook her head. "I'm very boring really. I sew and take care of my Da. I don't normally work here but the owner is a friend of Da's and needed help today." She held up the rope to his shoulder, trembling fingers pressing lightly into his neck and over the soft curve. "If you can hold your arms up and out to your sides it would be a big help to me." She said with a small smile. Her small fingers slipped down his arm then, the opposite hand holding the rope to his shoulder. A few pale golden locks fell across her face and she attempted to blow them away with a quick breath.
"You go thought clothes quickly then? With your occupation I imagine its a hassel."
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Blacksmith
Unknown.
Single.
New Denzien
Offline.
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Post by Valanor on Oct 26, 2017 9:32:31 GMT
Surrendered to the intensity of a single moment Valanor could feel his smile widen, humans were odd creatures and this one wasn't entirely different. "I don't know, does it feel 'wonderful'?" the smith returned, still beneath the touch of her smooth, shaking hand. A strange sensation for the dragon, Valanor took a deep breath and trained his gaze on the blonde woman's smile. He didn't need heightened senses to tell that she was nervous "Do I frighten you?"
Not a complex question, though likely one that she might try to avoid. Humans, dragons and all creatures alike very rarely said what they truly meant to anyone; much less in a situation where their reputation was on the line. People often felt fear around him, whether it was because he wasn't interested or they sensed some predatory nature within him he did not know. Valanor was quite happy with the isolation away from the idiots of the world. Another command came from the girl, where she had been the one uncomfortable with the situation he now took her place. Brow furrowing into a perplexed expression Valanor obeyed. Even though he had offered the help, the dragon had always struggled with control and at this distance he realised his vulnerability.
"Yeah," the shaky uncertainty of his voice betrayed him. Each arm stretched out either side of him, the man was careful not to avert his gaze. All of his major arteries were exposed at the mercy of a woman. "I'm not great with people. Fight a lot."
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Seamstress
Hetero.
Single.
Human
Authored by Rook.
Offline.
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Post by Olwyn Coombs on Oct 27, 2017 1:33:06 GMT
Olwyn looked at him, obviously confused. "My wares don't save people. I most often just fix fancy gowns." She continued her work after that. Stopping only when he posed a question to her that caused her to look at him in surprise. "Should I be?" For her it wasn't this man, in particular, she would be wary of. Although he did strike quite the intimidating presence. "I don't normally do the measuring and your-" She started to gesture at his bare chest as if a reason for her unease but then stopped and smiled. "Just overlook me, sir. I'm a little backwards is all."
She continued the measurements and when he lifted his arm she went from his wrist upward to the soft dish beneath his arm. His voice trembled the slightest bit and she paused to look at him. "You don't seem hard to get along with." She commented with a warm smile. Indeed he had been rather nice so far, patient with someone who was a bit slow to get something as simple as a measurement done. Once she had taken the rope down the length of his side she touched his arm with a bit of pressure to let him know he could put them down now. She turned to move back to the counter but stopped and looked back at him, her eyes falling to his pants and then flicking back to his face. "You..umm...it was just a shirt you needed...wasn't it?"
She wasn't really feeling like trying to get an inseam measurement on a man she didn't know. Someone who might just remove his pants for the measurement. Which...if he did she could just go off of his pants if they weren't too horribly damaged. But she hoped it was just the shirt. She held the rope and moved over to a small table where she began making tiny little marks to signify lengths. Her fingers reaching out to play over the fabrics nearest the sewing station. "Is there a color you prefer? Lights, darks?" He seemed like black...she couldn't really say why. But the color black just seemed to suit him. Of course this wasn't something she would say out loud.
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Blacksmith
Unknown.
Single.
New Denzien
Offline.
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Post by Valanor on Oct 30, 2017 13:34:04 GMT
Valanor's charisma was tried at the best of times, the girl was quick to indicate she had misunderstood the meaning of his words. He snorted his amusement with a sly smile curving the edge of his lips "No they don't protect. You're trade is useful though," the dragon retorted casually, stuffing both hand in his torn pockets. His eyes darted across the room, scanning for more detailed appreciation for the shop; not that he actually had any. Looking at clothing was about as dull as watching paint dry and despite the variety of colour all Valanor could see were blues, greens, yellows, browns and shades of black and grey; colours such as pink, red, purple or orange were lost to the dragon. The seamstress disappeared behind the counter and Valanor wandered to the other side, running his hand along the frame, wood. For what little he pretended to care for the shop he recognised that it would burn well under fire. His gaze lifted steadily back onto the blonde whose eyes fell to his pants, her words barely reaching his attention. He wondered if she'd say all the same about his kindness should he had threatened to eat the people that owned the place. The idea sounded like a perfectly good arrangement, the girl could leave the shop and never work there, take the money and help her 'Da' or whatever she called him.
"Need the whole suit," Valanor informed, tapping the desk with his fingers. Agitation of being still for too long was something that often bothered him, and although he enjoyed the girl for the warm memories that she brought to him, a dark cloud of regret was soon to follow. Followed by the torment of his sister's actions he could feel a hot anger boiling beneath his blood. He had actively neglecting to comment on half of what she had said, hoping not to elicit some bizarre human reaction. They often liked to run, though this one stayed and her cheeks were (as he could see it,) a shade of darker grey than the rest of her complexion. Over the years he had learnt this expression to be one of pleasure in feminine humanoids when they were enjoying themselves, didn't like something or were out of breath. Seemingly not out of breath the dragon could only deduct the other two options. He was fairly certain he hadn't done anything to upset her, though he hadn't done anything to elicit her to enjoy herself either. Puzzled the dragon frowned and looked down at his pants again, then back at the vibrant brown of Olwyn's eyes with a raised brow "You don't want-?" The dragon cut himself off, uncertain if his words were the right ones to say to her without scaring her.
"You said you were frightened because I was without cloth over my torso," he relented, equally as baffled as she was "I had not intended to frighten you further, your...ladyship." There was a defeated, respectful and yet confused emphasis on the title he offered her. Awkward and untrained to the whole meet with humans and actually talk with them for extended periods of time other than ignoring them or requesting money when he needed it for the work he did, Valanor wasn't entirely sure what to call the stranger. Most of the time humans liked to be called lady or lord, it usually worked well. Even in taverns, he could just walk in say 'excuse me my lady' and walk off without a hitch. Somewhere in between defeated and confused the smith gingerly tucked a hand beneath the waistline of his breeches and tugged at the cloth, looking to the stranger to whether he should hold off or not.
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Seamstress
Hetero.
Single.
Human
Authored by Rook.
Offline.
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Post by Olwyn Coombs on Nov 1, 2017 7:15:26 GMT
Olwyn knew that she was likely being confusing but she saw no other way to go about it. She couldn’t just come out and say it. What if he were offended? ”I’m sorry I-“ She turned back around then with some dark sturdy material in hand. Her eyes moving from the confused look on his face down to his hand…which was inside of his pants a bit. Immediately her face flooded with heat and she turned bright pink. Green eyes moving away from him hurriedly as she turned back around.
”Um there is a screen! Over beside you. If you could step behind it and then just toss your britches over it would be best.” And I won’t see anything I shouldn’t.
Olwyn looked down at her hands that she had clasp together in front of her, nervously plucking at her nails as she waited for the man to comply.
(Sorry this is so short)
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Blacksmith
Unknown.
Single.
New Denzien
Offline.
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Post by Valanor on Nov 5, 2017 13:56:28 GMT
Silence spoke for them both. Loud and clear it filled the room with tension that neither cared to share. Cheeks touched with a darker shade of grey, he watched her spin to train her attention to the wall behind her, and then her fingers. Contadictory to calling him a nice person, it became clear in his mind that she thought differently.
"And you say I don't frighten you?" Valanor said finally, his strong voice lowered into a whisper only loud enough for her to hear. Hidden away behind the racks of clothes, there was indeed a thin folding of wood that he'd often seen her kind use to cover themselves from each other. Looking at her for one last time, wondering what kind of thoughts were running through her young, mortal mind, the smith then casually walked behind the screen and disrobed from what was left of his breeches. Curious, he the fabric into his fingers he looked down at it, scanning his calloused fingers over the holes and charred edges. They had long since worn out their welcome and were barely functional, it was good he was getting a new pair.
"There," Valanor threw the breeches over the thin layer of wood and turned to face the seamstress, both arms folding over the screen that didn't fully hide the height of him. "Do you always blush like that for your customers?" his eyes wandered over to the door when he heard the ring of the little bell and another individual walked through. The lady was a small woman, older with greying brown hair, beady brown eyes and a purple feathered hat adorned upon her old little head. Grinning with a wicked and amused smile, his eyes shot to the seamstress at the counter. The lady had already noticed him, smiling with a cautious mirth in her eyes as she approached the counter ready to be served by the blushing blonde. He was curious to see what she was like in the presence of other strangers.
(not my longest either. Sorry lol.)
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