Just in case anyone hasn't -quite- got their gifts sorted out . . .

[rareradiance]

Gabrielle has set up her table in the main room.

A selection of fans with holiday scenes painted on them are laid out for examination, along with designs of the non-seasonal variety. There are, as usual, a selection of more . . . risque pieces for those so inclined. There is also a pot of chocolate, with a little sign reading "Joyeux noel! Have a

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[kent_mermaid]

Nan doesn't really have anyone to give gifts to in the first place, so she wanders by the table -- but her eyes are caught by the fanmaker instead, and she wanders over with a grin.

"Happy Christmas, then."

[rareradiance]

"Joyeux noel, mon ami!" Gabrielle smiles. "See anything you like?"

[kent_mermaid]

Nan just smirks and pulls up a chair next to her. "Oh, lots of things. Particularly one, though." This is an innocent smile. Really.

[rareradiance]

"Oh? Perhaps this?" She holds up a fan done in red velvet, imitating the curtains of a stage. Gabrielle isn't the oblivious type. She just can't resist teasing.

[read_the_past]

Liir has been around just long enough to learn about Christmas, and he's amazed by it, truly. As he walks by, the fans catch his interest, and he figures that, in Oz, it's nearly Lurlinemas anyway, and maybe he can get Elphaba one?

He eyes the fans with fascination, hoping to find the perfect one.

[rareradiance]

"Looking for something in particular?" Gabrielle asks, pouring another cup of chocolate and setting it in front of him. "Perhaps I can help you find it."

[read_the_past]

He jumps a bit -- he hadn't even seen her sitting there.

"Oh, I ... I'm looking for something for my mother."

[rareradiance]

"What sort of thing does she like?" Her tone is prodding, but not impatient. "Nature scenes? The mythical?"

typist: >.> Sorry about the lateness. Holidays + minor personal crisis = commentfailage.

[costly_summer]

Bassanio has been keeping to himself, more or less--even absent from his own wife's side, what's worse. But there is no better way to grovel for her favor again than to do so with a gift, and he surveys the table of fans.

The whole table of fans.

"Zounds! She is wonton as a nymph!" he exclaims (perhaps louder than was proper), holding up one of the risque ones to see if her hand is--ah. Yes. It is.

[rareradiance]

"I believe that one is a nymph," Gabrielle says, matter-of-factly. "A rather good design, I thought, although if you're looking for a gift which might give someone ideas you may prefer this." She takes another fan from a small box underneath her table (these are for the, er, connoisseurs of this sort of thing) and flicks it open, holding it out for examination.

[costly_summer]

"Do not think, dear lady, that I seek debauchery!" he protests. Mayhap too much.

[rareradiance]

"Don't you?" she asks, looking amused. "Then I pity the lady you're shopping for. Or gentleman, as the case may be."

[mancalledspade]

He chuckles. "Hey, angel. Saving the last minute shopper, hm?"

[rareradiance]

"Indeed. My motives are, of course, entirely unselfish." She grins. "Looking for anything?"

[mancalledspade]

He chuckles. "Don't think either of my lady friends would much appreciate it. Sweeney might like one, but I doubt Jackrabbit'd want the kid running across it by accident." He tilts his fedora back. "Not that it ain't great work."

[rareradiance]

"Unfortunately it doesn't seem to be very popular here," Gabrielle says, shaking her head. "No one blinks an eye at magic or murder here, but show them a naked body and 'mon dieu! What a scandal!'"

[sweariwontdie]

"These are lovely! May I buy... uh... several?"

[rareradiance]

"I would certainly not object," says Gabrielle, smiling. "What sort of design are you looking for?"

[sweariwontdie]

"I'm looking for... holiday ones or just pretty ones. At least two, perhaps three or five if I have enough money."

[rareradiance]

Casting an eye over her table, Gabrielle selects a fan painted with holly, one with Christmas carolers, and one with a couple kissing under a sprig of mistletoe. "This sort of thing, were you thinking?"

typist: >.> Sorry about the lateness. Holidays + minor personal crisis = commentfailage.