Still [doing business]
WHO: Saliqa and Leova
WHERE: Random Tunnel, HRW
WHAT: She may be a candidate, but she can still take commissions for a rider.
Random Tunnel, High Reaches Weyr
There are many twisty, turny tunnels throughout High Reaches Weyr. And this just happens to be one of them. It branches off from one of the main ones, taking you away from the resident dorms and private rooms. Here and there are some storage closets, but the hall is mostly bare. It's devoid of decoration and seems to otherwise just take a windy path towards the main caverns.
The twists and turns of the back tunnels are dangerous for those who don't know them well, but also because someone managed to design a closet exactly where one should probably not be. The unfortunate room allows so that the opening of its door creates an obstacle right at the corner of a tunnel; hopefully no one takes the turn too fast or they'll be treated to a wooden surprise. It's just this closet that Saliqa needs, though, and she's stretched so that one foot keeps the door open while she can lean forward and tug and pull at various things on the shelf. A broom threatens to fall over and she shoves it aside, muttering.
"/There/ you are," and is Saliqa's muttering really that distinctive? Maybe it's just inside information that leads to a thump on that door with the heel of the greenrider's hand. It shouldn't shove it in, but it's not exactly quiet, this when Leova's generally been taciturn and efficient when glimpsed about the lower caverns. Generally.
"Oh!" There's a moment where Saliqa juggles the items she's been tugging on then, getting a grip, she rears back from her spot inside the closet. Arms full of various this and that, relating mostly to clothing, she blinks curiously in the rider's direction. "Excuse me... do you need something? Me?" A glance up and down the tunnel provides no other persons about.
"Yes." Leova looks at her, and then all of a sudden laughs, all amber eyes and a ruff of short, dark-auburn hair. "Not for lunch. Relax. You're the Crom girl, hm? /Not/ the makeup specialist." Who, given more marks than Leova has to spare, would have been kept plenty busy with the greenrider's complexion, for all that she's not seeing nearly as much sun of late.
Although her eyes show a touch of hesitance still, Saliqa lets out a few notes of laughter to indulge the rider's own merriment, and her shoulders do, indeed, flatten into a stance that's less at-attention. "I'm from Crom," she affirms with a proud nod, her gaze marking Leova's face critically at the specification. "No, ma'am, that's Delita. I'm Saliqa, I'm, or I was, or I still /do/ sell fine jewelry and make earrings. Ohhh. Were you looking to buy?"
No surprise on Leova's features, just a quick, got-that-all-right confirmatory nod, and then she's splaying one hand against the wall to lean against it like it could take a minute or two. "Depends on what you have," she says. "Or could make. In time. Looking for something for a couple of girls, ten Turns or so. Got certain requirements. Do you do that? Or is it just... /must follow my art/," and that in a tone like she's mimicking someone in particular. Someone whose nose is lodged permanently in the air.
Saliqa adjusts her hands to get a more comfortable grip on the things in her arms as she watches the rider get comfortable. Most of her attention ranges from Leova's face to the ceiling, though, as she contemplates the next words around a still vaguely smiling mouth. "Well, wouldn't be very good commissions if I didn't. I try my best to get to know the customer real right, get them something that'll do all the best complimenting. Young girls, though-- you imagining something for a formal occasion, or something a bit smaller and sturdier what can put up with day to day?"
"Sturdier," Leova confirms this too. She's got her own look for Saliqa, though it's more /directed/ than anything as contemplative as the younger woman. "Not expensive, nothing they have to wear or it means that they don't care. Something made just for them, something they might like. But something that an... aunt would give them. Not the closest of aunts. You know? Not personal like a mother would," and she says that last with barely a break.
Saliqa's mouth moves silently up and down, reciting just under her breath all that she's instructed. Once or twice during this, her gaze on Leova wavers, but she manages to keep up a fairly straight eye-contact as befits a good listener. "Something they'll enjoy wearing but not feel pressed to," she paraphrases, "I know a nice rope knot that holds up under strain, a few beads. It'll be sweet and girlish so that it doesn't feel like some weighty heirloom or a too-treasured piece that has to be locked away or could create jealousy between them." Though she nods with confidence, the inflection at the end of her words turns up questioningly the tiniest bit.
"Reckon that would be good. No metal. Glass, ceramic, similar but /different/." Leova deepens her lean, pressing up against the wall all the way to her elbow, now, gaze gone reflective for the first time. Though it's reflecting Saliqa, still. "What do you think about how siblings should be treated. Twins, especially. Gifts. You mentioned jealousy."
"Well," but Saliqa pauses right after her start, licking her lips and taking several more seconds to form her answer. "While older siblings are expected to get nicer things, perhaps then better to space out the giving... but you say twins? And different. Hmm. Find something that they both like better than the other, make it personal. Then you can't have them looking at the other one," she unlooses a hand to wave it in the direction of her imaginary twin, "and saying they wish they had it instead. Unless, of course, they're the sharing type..."
There's a nod. Another. And then, "It's not like that." A slight pause. "Different places, too." The greenrider's hand flexes against the wall, her knuckles crack. "Shouldn't keep you longer. Find you again, hm? And we'll figure the rest out then."
"Oh, alright," Saliqa nods right back, wrinkled forehead of thought clearing at the clarification. "Yes, I have some mending to do... but afterwards I'll certainly sit down with this and then-- oh, okay. You'll find me. Good day!" After a moment, she turns to square off with that closet again and what she needs from it.
Footsteps, down the hallway. Might even have been three words down.
WHERE: Random Tunnel, HRW
WHAT: She may be a candidate, but she can still take commissions for a rider.
Random Tunnel, High Reaches Weyr
There are many twisty, turny tunnels throughout High Reaches Weyr. And this just happens to be one of them. It branches off from one of the main ones, taking you away from the resident dorms and private rooms. Here and there are some storage closets, but the hall is mostly bare. It's devoid of decoration and seems to otherwise just take a windy path towards the main caverns.
The twists and turns of the back tunnels are dangerous for those who don't know them well, but also because someone managed to design a closet exactly where one should probably not be. The unfortunate room allows so that the opening of its door creates an obstacle right at the corner of a tunnel; hopefully no one takes the turn too fast or they'll be treated to a wooden surprise. It's just this closet that Saliqa needs, though, and she's stretched so that one foot keeps the door open while she can lean forward and tug and pull at various things on the shelf. A broom threatens to fall over and she shoves it aside, muttering.
"/There/ you are," and is Saliqa's muttering really that distinctive? Maybe it's just inside information that leads to a thump on that door with the heel of the greenrider's hand. It shouldn't shove it in, but it's not exactly quiet, this when Leova's generally been taciturn and efficient when glimpsed about the lower caverns. Generally.
"Oh!" There's a moment where Saliqa juggles the items she's been tugging on then, getting a grip, she rears back from her spot inside the closet. Arms full of various this and that, relating mostly to clothing, she blinks curiously in the rider's direction. "Excuse me... do you need something? Me?" A glance up and down the tunnel provides no other persons about.
"Yes." Leova looks at her, and then all of a sudden laughs, all amber eyes and a ruff of short, dark-auburn hair. "Not for lunch. Relax. You're the Crom girl, hm? /Not/ the makeup specialist." Who, given more marks than Leova has to spare, would have been kept plenty busy with the greenrider's complexion, for all that she's not seeing nearly as much sun of late.
Although her eyes show a touch of hesitance still, Saliqa lets out a few notes of laughter to indulge the rider's own merriment, and her shoulders do, indeed, flatten into a stance that's less at-attention. "I'm from Crom," she affirms with a proud nod, her gaze marking Leova's face critically at the specification. "No, ma'am, that's Delita. I'm Saliqa, I'm, or I was, or I still /do/ sell fine jewelry and make earrings. Ohhh. Were you looking to buy?"
No surprise on Leova's features, just a quick, got-that-all-right confirmatory nod, and then she's splaying one hand against the wall to lean against it like it could take a minute or two. "Depends on what you have," she says. "Or could make. In time. Looking for something for a couple of girls, ten Turns or so. Got certain requirements. Do you do that? Or is it just... /must follow my art/," and that in a tone like she's mimicking someone in particular. Someone whose nose is lodged permanently in the air.
Saliqa adjusts her hands to get a more comfortable grip on the things in her arms as she watches the rider get comfortable. Most of her attention ranges from Leova's face to the ceiling, though, as she contemplates the next words around a still vaguely smiling mouth. "Well, wouldn't be very good commissions if I didn't. I try my best to get to know the customer real right, get them something that'll do all the best complimenting. Young girls, though-- you imagining something for a formal occasion, or something a bit smaller and sturdier what can put up with day to day?"
"Sturdier," Leova confirms this too. She's got her own look for Saliqa, though it's more /directed/ than anything as contemplative as the younger woman. "Not expensive, nothing they have to wear or it means that they don't care. Something made just for them, something they might like. But something that an... aunt would give them. Not the closest of aunts. You know? Not personal like a mother would," and she says that last with barely a break.
Saliqa's mouth moves silently up and down, reciting just under her breath all that she's instructed. Once or twice during this, her gaze on Leova wavers, but she manages to keep up a fairly straight eye-contact as befits a good listener. "Something they'll enjoy wearing but not feel pressed to," she paraphrases, "I know a nice rope knot that holds up under strain, a few beads. It'll be sweet and girlish so that it doesn't feel like some weighty heirloom or a too-treasured piece that has to be locked away or could create jealousy between them." Though she nods with confidence, the inflection at the end of her words turns up questioningly the tiniest bit.
"Reckon that would be good. No metal. Glass, ceramic, similar but /different/." Leova deepens her lean, pressing up against the wall all the way to her elbow, now, gaze gone reflective for the first time. Though it's reflecting Saliqa, still. "What do you think about how siblings should be treated. Twins, especially. Gifts. You mentioned jealousy."
"Well," but Saliqa pauses right after her start, licking her lips and taking several more seconds to form her answer. "While older siblings are expected to get nicer things, perhaps then better to space out the giving... but you say twins? And different. Hmm. Find something that they both like better than the other, make it personal. Then you can't have them looking at the other one," she unlooses a hand to wave it in the direction of her imaginary twin, "and saying they wish they had it instead. Unless, of course, they're the sharing type..."
There's a nod. Another. And then, "It's not like that." A slight pause. "Different places, too." The greenrider's hand flexes against the wall, her knuckles crack. "Shouldn't keep you longer. Find you again, hm? And we'll figure the rest out then."
"Oh, alright," Saliqa nods right back, wrinkled forehead of thought clearing at the clarification. "Yes, I have some mending to do... but afterwards I'll certainly sit down with this and then-- oh, okay. You'll find me. Good day!" After a moment, she turns to square off with that closet again and what she needs from it.
Footsteps, down the hallway. Might even have been three words down.