Who

Brenna, Timotin

What

Brenna hears some music, follows it, and gets a bargain out of the deal!

When

It is evening of the sixteenth day of the ninth month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Caravan Grounds; Zingari Encampment

OOC Date 16 Dec 2017 07:00

 

brenna_default.jpg timotin_default.jpg

“So,” she asks, a fingertip gently tracing the edge of a beautifully-wrought tunic, “you’re responsible for keeping your people looking as…” She visibly searches for the best way to put how she sees the colorful traders, her eyes flicking back to his once she has it. “…Elegantly untamed as they do?”


igencaravangrounds.jpg

Caravan Grounds, Zingari Encampment

Caravan Grounds

Deep grooves in the hard packed earth criss-cross a large patch of denuded ground, bearing mute testament to the caravans that frequent this area. Despite the midden holes set back a ways from the main center of traffic, the air is sweet, redolent with the sagebrush that forms a loose perimeter around the flattened expanse. In what is as close to its center as the vague boundaries suggest, a stone ringed fire pit has been dug and surrounded with the odd log or two, ash overflowing from its darkly blackened core.



It’s a calm, mild autumn evening at Igen Weyr, the air still and clear - likely precursor to a sandstorm, but who cares? Certainly not the Zingari, who are lighting up the night with the color and fire (literally), music and merriment of one of their signature performance nights. There is food in abundance, and booze to wash it down with, while the rhythmic thumping of drums and clapping of hands wells up from various points through the camp. Around the main fire, performances cycle through dancers, musicians, players, and even the occasional contortionist and illusionist.

There are others from outside the clan present, of course. Dragonriders are scattered throughout the scene, as are other traders - many from the Reika, allies and friends to the Zingari. Onari would be here if she weren’t at the uncomfortable waddling stage of pregnancy, likely dragging Zh’ain with her. But her brother Kalfor and sister-in-law Dalynn are about with their little girl in tow, as are several others. Brenna is among them, the constantly-busy wheelwright enjoying a night off in full view of her people so that they can actually witness the fact that she rests sometimes.

Wearing a deep green skirt and a beige linen top with rolled sleeves, long brown hair left free to hang about her shoulders, the hazel-eyed woman moves easily along the periphery of the main gathering in search of a bit to eat. It’s difficult to do, however, when the entertainment going on by the fire is so arresting. She really needs to make a point of coming to more of these.

Timotin is also out and about this evening, though he is of the Zingari brand rather than Reika. He is not one of the vibrant performers this evening, but lords over his weaver’s stall instead, hawking his wares now and then, along with a few catchy ditties from his guitar. He leans against the pop up stall, the back of his chair against the stall while the legs jut out the front and he plucks at some melody or another. Clothes are not a hot item this evening, but he's done a little business, greeting all who walk close enough to hear between customers.

A glass of whiskey now in one hand and a bubblie pie well-secured in the other, Brenna continues her slow wandering along the edges of the crowd…if it can even be considered to have edges with so many people milling about. There’s a break between performances in which she runs across a few familiar faces…but a snatch of music from a guitar not far away draws her eye toward a stall that sits at just enough of a remove for anyone there during performances to be able to speak and be heard. Curious, she draws closer, noting the clothes that seem to be featured there…and the man sitting at it with instrument in hand. She quietly wonders at him a moment, dressed as a Zingari but almost appearing not to be one with the light hair, striking blue eyes, and burlier build than most men of the clan she’s seen.

The music captures her attention just as much, prompting her to listen in the shadows a moment before stepping into more plain view. “You play a fine tune,” she notes presently, a small smile tilting her lips. “But it doesn’t seem like you’re meaning to show off the fact in front of the fire tonight.”

Light eyes flick upward at the sound of a feminine voice, a slight smile crossing TImotin’s features. “Don’t aim to perform most nights, though I do thank you for the compliment miss.” Timo plucks out the last of his tune before letting the chair legs drop so he can stand and set his guitar aside. He gives a wave at his stall and the brightly colored clothes within. “Cloth is where my true talents lie.” Timotin gives a most gentlemanly bow to Brenna. “Timo, Zingeari weaver, at your service miss.”

Gently angled brows lift subtly at the man’s answer, her smile growing when he reveals what he is. “A musician and a tailor?” she questions, her gaze traversing the wares he gestures to. “Both need a deft touch, so that makes a certain amount of sense.” She grins at the bow, offering just as courtly a curtsey in turn. “Brenna, wheelwright and joiner for the Reika, at yours,” she counters, and steps a bit closer to both the man and his stall. “So,” she asks, a fingertip gently tracing the edge of a beautifully-wrought tunic, “you’re responsible for keeping your people looking as…” She visibly searches for the best way to put how she sees the colorful traders, her eyes flicking back to his once she has it. “…Elegantly untamed as they do?”

Timotin nods at Brenna’s first, grins at her introduction, and laughs at her last. “Elegantly Untamed… I think I like that.” He chuckles some more and shakes his head in amusement at the thought. “Aye, I’m responsible for most of what the mother clan wears, though some make their own clothing and costuming.” Timo narrows his gaze lightheartedly at Brenna and nods at the tunic she traces. “Why, are you looking to become a bit Elegantly Untamed?” TImo raises a brow and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, I think I’m plenty of the ‘untamed’ part already,” Brenna replies with an impish glint to her gaze. “The ‘elegant’ part, though, I’d dearly love to figure out how to pull off more often. It isn’t easy, given what I do most of the day.” She gives a tilt of her head as she looks him over, hands in his pockets, discreetly taking in the way he’s built. Such a powerfully built man, and yet he boasts a discerning eye, a sensitive ear, and hands capable of such fine detail work that he weaves and plays music. The juxtaposition fascinates her. “What would you recommend,” she asks, “if trying to combine practicality and elegance were my goal? Is it possible?” There’s a playfully challenging air to her question, though it’s presently softened by an almost sheepish bit of a grin. “The Reika are practical through and through. Maybe I shouldn’t try so hard, but…I’ve always been on to try making things work, even if it’s fitting a square peg into a round hole.”

Timo looks Brenna over with a practiced eye, a smirk lingering on his face over Brenna’s cheek. Holding up a finger in signal for Brenna to wait, he disappears into the stall for a moment and begins shuffling things around. He exits with three carefully buttoned clothing wraps. He gestures for the Reika woman to follow him to a table set up just to the side of the stall. He sets two of the wraps in a chair and opens one on the table. Within, there is a ruffled white, sleeveless tunic with a low ‘v’ neck and a pair of sensible, beige trousers with pockets and a few odd belt loops for tools. A fine leather belt courtesy of their newly acquired ex-tanner pulls the outfit together. He makes them for Javid’s adepts in darker colors, but this seems to suit the fair skinned brunette. “I should think this covers elegent and practical in one go.” He says with amusement. (https://i.pinimg.com/736x/59/a0/90/59a0904ecb11c9d186c8aa1954e9a66b--cargo-pants-women-fashion-pants.jpg )

Brenna watches Timotin’s routine with fascination, waiting as he quietly indicates she should and then likewise following when he beckons. The outfit he produces garners a slowly growing smile. “I think you might just have it,” she agrees, “except…” She fingers the ruffling on the front of the tunic. “That’ll have to go. Too much to get caught on, or possibly singed. Do that, and I may just be able to take it off your hands.” Folding her arms, she gives a little lift of her chin, her head tilting subtly. “What else might you have?”

Timotin chuckles. “I have sets without the ruffle on the front.” After all….spies don’t wear ruffles either. “And I can make them for you in any color you like.” Brenna’s request about what else Timo might have garners a quiet and secretive smile from the man. “I could not help but hope I might be able to poke at the less….practical side of your custom, since you claim to be so untamed already.” Timo drops a wink and sets the second wrap atop the first. He opens it up and it reveals what seems to be a neatly tucked pile of pale, pale pink fabric, in two tones. But when Timo meticulously unfolds it and spreads it out upon the table, it turns out to be a one piece, sleeveless, backless dancer’s dress, with burgundy desert blooms stitched in a lovely display across the bosom, waist and bustier. Silver jewelry, and a silver head piece with an attachable, nearly transparent pink veil.

(https://www.dhresource.com/0x0s/f2-albu-g4-M01-8B-01-rBVaEFcgXniAF7iFAAD3GMWBZm0651.jpg/top-quality-egyptian-belly-dance-costume.jpg )

That Timo has the non-ruffled option as well as the ability to give her any color she wishes pleases Brenna immensely. His next earns a soft peal of light, almost melodic laughter. “By all means,” she invites with a sweep of her hand toward the other bundles. She’s a bit bemused by his next, and when he reveals the full extent of the outfit, she nearly laughs again. “I’m flattered you think I could get away with wearing this,” she says, “but…I think you and I might have different definitions of ‘untamed’.” She just might be able to dance, but she doesn’t believe for one second she could do such an outfit justice by it, either.

“Who says a pretty girl can’t just wear a pretty dress?” Timo questions, pointing at more than a few of their patrons sporting Zingari fashion just for a night out. “And you’ve just the skin tone for it.” Timo waits for a beat before he speaks again. “But, if this is not to your liking, I have this…” Timo picks up the third wrap and lays it over the rest, opening it. Within, is a Zingari style gather outfit. It features an off the shoulder, white, long sleeve tunic that flares out at the elbows, a black supple-leather corset that laces up the front with gold thread, a waist shawl made of gold beads and chains, black and royal purple skirts that layer over each other and a black hip scarf with deep red desert blooms embroidered upon it. Layered together it is an elegant but striking outfit. (https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1J9ztIXXXXXaRXpXXq6xXFXXXZ/2015-hot-sexy-cosplay-halloween-Gypsy-costumes-for-women-C85.jpg)

Brenna’s smirk is enigmatic in that beat of silence. Is it to her liking or not? She may not give Timo a straight answer, the urge to tease the weaver coming on strong despite just having met him. Fortunately, he saves her from making a quip to go along with it by producing the third outfit. The colors of this one immediately catch her eye, as does the cut of the tunic. “Now this is most definitely to my liking,” she comments, brushing her fingers over the corset. “One for everyday wear, one for nights just like this one…and another in a color I might wear as something else…” A tunic or simpler dress, perhaps, though that’s a discussion she may have with him another time. “Alright,” she says, straightening a bit and glancing over all three outfits in turn. “What do they cost?”

Timotin seems pleased with himself, though not overly so. But two out of three guesses isn't bad. He looks delighted when Brenna seems to ask after the price of all three. “For the full outfits like this I usually charge two and a quarter marks (at least that seems reasonable?), but for one of our allies I think I can let them go for half that.” Timo smiles, but is otherwise quiet from this point on, allowing for Brenna to think and decide. He crosses his arms and steps back so that Brenna might look and be able to fully appreciate the outfits while she ponders over them.

Brenna is bracing to hear a much higher figure and looks genuinely surprised when Timotin names his price. She is quiet for a moment, but only because she’s trying to think of what she would have readily paid for it again. “That…doesn’t seem like nearly enough for work like this,” she says, and her tone is sincere rather than teasing. Hazel eyes flick pointedly to blue as she gives a little shake of her head. “I wouldn’t dream of paying only half, Timo, especially for this one.” Her fingers brush the gold-beaded sash on the last outfit.

“Well I certainly won’t say no to taking the full price, but do keep in mind the Reika basically have a permanent discount with the Zingari, we don’t mind.” And Timo being a blood relative of Willimina’s is especially grateful to the people who’d helped Willimina track down her late husband’s murderer and so much more over the turns. Timotin smiles and sneaks the first outfit out from under everything and wraps it back up. “Let me go get one with no ruffles on it for you, these others should fit you perfectly.” That’s another thing Timo had taken in when he was examining Brenna before, and he had accounted for her size with the outfits. He’s a keen eye for that sort of thing.

Brenna truly just can’t help but be amused as she listens to Timo speak on and watches him so adroitly go about moving clothes around further. “Alright,” she answers when he offers to fetch a ruffle-less shirt for her, “but once you do, can I convince you to be still a moment?” She hadn’t originally come over for business, after all…and that’s really all it’s been since she pounced on the fact that he’s a weaver.

“Of course.” Timo responds with a smile and disappears inside the stall again, coming out just a few seconds later with a new wrap. “Here we are.” He presents the wrap with a grin and sets it with the others before turning back to Brenna, hands going to his pockets.

There’s something about that grin Timotin gives, combined with that habit of sticking his hands in his pockets, that strikes Brenna as rather boyish. She can’t help but smirk as she watches him, giving a little shake of her head as she digs into the soft leather pouch at her hip and pulls out the requisite marks. “For the first and last outfits,” she says, offering him the marks in her fingertips. “And for this…’ She touches the pink and burgundy outfit with a thoughtful pressing of her lips. “Could you make a tunic in this color, something…asymmetrically cut, maybe off the shoulder? And another one of those ruffle-less ones in a dark green…” She offers up a lopsided smile again. “And then I think I’ll be done asking you about clothes.

Timotin nods along as Brenna makes her requests. “Aye, I most certainly can, though you might want to define ‘dark’ green miss Brenna, there are many shades of green.” And the ‘dark’ descriptor covers a few of them at least in Timo’s mind. She'll be done asking about clothes…Timo idly wonders what else she might want to ask about. He takes the marks with a roguish grin and pockets them. “I'll have them to you by seven’s end.” He'll start wrapping the pink dress back up now, but turns light eyes to Brenna, attention grasped by the prospect of what else she might have to talk about.

“Forest green,” Brenna clarifies, then gives a little tilt of her head in the direction of her caravan’s camp. “A touch darker than the Reika green. I have to be a little bit rebellious.” Though it’s likely she tends to be more than just a little of that. Timo’s promise on the timing earns a grateful nod, and then he’s back to wrapping up his clothes, and she leans against the stall with a shoulder and canted hip, her arms folded upon her chest. “I suppose I’m just curious,” she says, “why you don’t just…close up shop on nights like this and just sit and play instead. I thought these were nights for relaxing.” Though perhaps he doesn’t find there to be anything taxing about showing off his wares no matter what the occasion.

Timotin laughs as he does up the toggles on the wrap. “I do some nights, but when opportunity is there, why not grasp it?” Beyond that, Timo is a single man, why not work? “And I like watching the crowds, they are an entertainment in and of themselves. You see all sorts come through on performance nights.” Timo grins, he's seen his fair share of interesting scenes, that's for sure. He straightens when he's done toggling the wrap and sets it aside so he can turn to look fully at Brenna.

“Spoken like a true trader,” Brenna notes atop a chuckle, but it isn’t a tease. There’s an air of knowing to her tone. She’s been guilty of working while most everyone else seems to be doing other things herself. At his mention of watching the crowds, she looks out over the people milling around the fire in turn, nodding a little. “I can imagine, considering how…interesting it can be when you aren’t having a performance night,” she notes, and turns her gaze back to him in a somewhat sidelong fashion. “How long have you been playing guitar?”

Timo shrugs, eyes flicking over to where his guitar leans. “Since before I can remember, most of us know how to play one instrument or another, but very few of us use it as a main performance.” After all, Pern has Harpers for the concert type of experience. “And some of us don't perform at all. Despite all the fanfare and glitter, not all Zingari are as apt to be so…flamboyant in their talents, some are just as happy doing the grunt work.” Timotin grins, as he's definitely more the latter type, he does his work, and will do all the grunt work asked of him, but he's no true performer, not at the heart of things.

For that, Brenna has to smile; even she has made the assumption that the Zingari are fiery, outgoing performers as a rule. Perhaps that’s another reason she finds herself fascinated by this one; for all his amiability, he is rather opposite others she’s encountered. “So you don’t perform; it’s more for your personal enjoyment?” she ventures, then notes with a gentle smile. “You do seem a quieter sort.”

“Aye, more for personal enjoyment than anything. It's something to do with my hands.” Timo holds up his hands. “I don't like being idle much.” And Brenna has hit the proverbial nail on the head, when not conducting business, Timo is of the quieter variety. He shrugs at the comment and nods. “I like to keep things simple.”

“Oh, I completely understand how that is,” Brenna says with a quick grin, reaching up to tuck a bit of hair back behind her ear before it gets in her eyes. “Working on wagons is a near-constant thing, and when it’s not, there’s always something to be fixed or fashioned.” She glances at his hands when he holds them up, giving a little shrug of her own. “Absolutely nothing wrong with big, strong, and quiet,” she notes with a playful wink before pushing out of her lean against the stall. She tucks her newly acquired outfits under her arm and gives him a subtle, querying head-tilt. “If I go put these somewhere safe, what are the chances I might return to find you playing again?”

Timo finds he likes the look of the wink Brenna drops him, it's cute. “I'd say the chances are pretty good, not too many customers this evening and like I said, I like to keep myself busy.” That roguish smile slips across his lips again as he gathers up the dress wrap to put it away.

Brenna rather likes the look of the rogue’s smile on Timo in turn, which only adds to her incentive to return. “I’ll be back this way soon, then,” she says, and turns to stride easily off into the darkness between the Zingari and Reika camps to stow away her new treasures. She may even return wearing the not-so-practical one, if she’s of a mind. But more on her mind, for whatever reason, is the prospect of seeing what more she might be able to get the quiet, light-eyed Zingari weaver to say.

Add a New Comment