Who

Sienna, Thierry

What

Pride is swallowed when Thierry needs Sienna's help for a girly decision.

When

It is evening of the fourth day of the second month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Cloth Corridor

OOC Date

 

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Cloth Corridor

Countless cloths of every cut, color, and size obscure the open air of this bountiful booth. Extravagant silks embroidered in so fine a metallic thread drape in diaphanous folds, billowing in the wind as one parts through veil upon veil of hanging fabric on display. Beyond, yet more plain or patterned cloth tower in neat stacks, the likes of which are oft seen wrapped about many a stylish Igenite.


Evening has the bazaar's streets bustling with life, as the cooler air draws folks out into the vibrant Igen twilight. There are hawkers and vendors hollering about their wares, children giggling as they dodge between the crowds, the occasional brawl-talk between burly men… and Thierry. Toke-puffing, strutting, side-stepping through the throng, he's a man on a mission… a /fabric/ mission. His stinky little cigarette is snuffed out before he gets to the booth he wants, fingers not /entirely/ clean reaching out to run over the fabric of a selection of scarves.

Sienna went to The Night Flight first, of /course/, but now she's here in search of a few other things. Which she steps out of the back dressing area, turning to check her reflection in a tiny, precious mirror, she doesn't yet notice Thierry. The greenrider is dressed in yet another piece of traditional garb, though this one is a deep violet, and one shoulder is *gasp* visible as the cloth drapes down over her forearm. So traditional with an oldtimer twist, then? Pausing, she gathers her curls in her hands to hold them up, tilting her head one way and the other, no doubt imagining how it'd look with her hair done, maybe some simple jewelry, while the store owner stands nearby and murmurs meaningless compliments.

Was it the sight of bare skin that caught Thierry's attention to make him look to Sienna? Or just her appearance from the back? Either way, it's the former than his dark eyes settle on, as it stands out from the purple fabric of Sienna's outfit. He watches, still idly fingering the fabric of a scarf as if he knows what he's doing, waiting until she's got a handful of her hair to comment. "Why d'you not wear Oldtimer stuff?" Driven by curiosity more than anything else, the question is still not completely /devoid/ of barb, as the teenaged guard recruit frowns over at the greenrider.

Sienna shifts her weight a bit to try and catch Thierry's reflection in the mirror, before letting her curls fall. "I do," is her simple and truthful answer, giving a soft answer to the shop owner before she vanishes into the changing room again, pulling the curtain closed.

An answer that doesn't help Thierry much! It leaves him frowning thoughtfully, shifting his attention to another scarf - one from the pile that looks slightly less expensive than the first one he was fiddlin with. His eyes flicker up to the changing room curtain every few seconds, waiting for Sienna to emerge, because he can't talk to her while she's /changing/! She could be naked in there.

Sienna is. Or was, rather, as when she emerges again she's in oldtimer clothes. Sturdy black pants tucked into calf boots, and a white tunic that wraps around her middle, cinched at the waist with a small, understated bow. "See?" the AWLM asks, turning to 'model' for the guard before she fastens her knot onto her shoulder once again. "That scarf won't match your eyes," she remarks, nodding at the one he's fingering.

Oh yes. Now he sees. Thierry eyes the outfit with a disapproving air, before he shrugs. Not worth arguing his views, perhaps? At least Sienna's remark about the scarf makes him smirk, looking from the fabric he's fondling to the greenrider. "And I thought I'd look /pretty/ in it." Sarcasm aplenty there - at least until he shrugs again, setting the scarf down amongst its fellows. "Dunno what to get my mum," he admits quietly, not looking up… because he's embarrassed that he's seeking help, especially from an /Oldtimer/. "It's her turnday."

Sienna is a bit startled he even admitted that. Didn't everyone say this guy was a jerk? So far, Sienna's found him…not that bad. With a gesture to 'wrap it up' to the shop owner regarding her purple purchase, she moves forward towards Thierry to regard the scarf. "And she likes scarves?" she asks, picking through the piles until she comes up with a lovely blue and gold one, with delicate embroidery along the edges.

Thierry shrugs again. "Dunno." He doesn't know much! Or maybe his guarded stance suggests he's not /giving away/ much, depending on how his posture's read. "Don't normally /buy/ her shit." The blue and gold scarf is looked at, the embroidery stroked with his rough fingertip, and he shakes his head in dismissal. "Too pretty."

Sienna neatly folds the scarf and sticks it back on the pile, eying him askance. What…"You usually make her things?" Because him /stealing/ her things isn't an option. Right? "Well everyone could use a nice pair of gloves," she says, drifting among the stacks of fabric. "What does your mother do?"

"I usually… /get/ her things." Thierry's reply is cagey, and he shoves his hands into his pockets, reflexively going for his tokes - though a look from the bazaar stall's tender when he pulls one out makes him glower, shoving the lighting gear back away. The unlit toke stays out though, and he fiddles with it, swapping between his lips and his fingers, even tucking it behind his ear. "She does… /women's/… stuff." Doesn't sound like he knows exactly what that is! "Stuff at the ring. Kitchens. Drinks. I dunno." He shrugs again, following Sienna at a safe distance. "Dunno why she'd want /gloves/, though."

Sienna arches a brow at him. "Well what do you usually /get/ her?" Then there's a bit of a blink. "Not…The Pit?" Is that the ring he's talking about? "Because Igen is hard on the skin," she says, lifting a decent pair of close-fitting brown leather gloves, putting one on and flexing her fingers in them. "These are nice."

"No." Thierry gives Sienna a /look/, as if he can't believe she doesn't realise who he /is/ - though of course he's no longer wearing the ring's insignia since donning his uniform. "/Tunnelsnake/ ring. I'm a /Sersang/, not a Steen." He straightens up his tunic, giving the greenrider a haughty, proud sort of look. "She doesn't go anywhere for her hands to get rough." His mum is too perfect for that, says his prideful tone! "Maybe she wants a new veil."

Sienna returns his look. How would she know who he is when it was so hard to just get his /name/? "Ah, Sersang." Like she knows who those folks are. "I didn't think you were Steen." But before he can take offense (or would he be flattered?) she elaborates. "The twins are fostered with the Steens and I'd never seen you around there. Veils would be nice, perhaps a few of them? Maybe a handkerchief?"

If he's taken offence, Thierry's not showing it. What he /does/ show, however, is a yawn - loud, noisy, and uncovered, leaving Sienna with a good view and the /scent/ of inside his mouth, if she's close enough! It's very smokey, amongst… other things. He digs his hands briefly into his pockets, then shakes his head after a little bit of fumbling around. "I'm only getting her one. What's she want more for? She's got loads already." He pulls one off the display, holding it up between him and Sienna at a level where he can squint to imagine she's wearing it. "I dunno what's nice. Shoulda brought Worm to help."

Sienna wrinkles her nose at the smell, but…she makes cheeses and has a dragon who loves to roll in dead things. It's not that bad. She reaches out to try and take the veil from him so she can hold it up to her face, when it's clear that's what he's doing, lifting her brows at him. Well? Look good enough for his mother? "Who is Worm?" she asks, looking at the counter again and lifting a…is that a small, decorative whip? Delicate enough to slip into a handbag, but damn, that'd hurt if you got hit by it. Sienna shakes it out and gives it a little flick, brows lifting. Huh! Maybe it's not so decorative after all.

When Sienna puts the veil on, Thierry looks her over, carefully. "Doesn't work with /that/." The dip of his head suggests the rest of her oldtimer outfit. So he grabs a large scarf, flicking it out as he holds it up so he can effectively /hide/ the rest of Sienna's body. "Mmmph." Not good enough… but when the rider's reaching for a /whip/, he's not going to try putting /more/ on her. He eyes her warily, dropping the scarf messily back onto the pile he took it from. "Worm's my boy." Dark eyes settle on the whip, and he's suddenly made up his mind. "I'll take that one." To the storekeeper, he points to the veil on the greenrider.

Sienna sets the veil down with a smirk. "I know. You should see my red bikini," she teases, looking down when he flicks the scarf at her. "And I'll take this." Because she just can't resist a tiny whip to go with her purple dress. Then she eyes him. "Your…son?"

/Bikini/. Thierry's eyes go wide with shock and disgust - and his cheeks go /red/. Dark red. So much blushing! He has to quickly look away, clearing his throat and being very careful /not/ to look at Sienna after that scandalous revelation. Bikinis are /bad/! "My /boy/," he repeats, stressing the latter word. "He's a…" Friend? Gang member? Thi can't seem to land the right word. "… he works at the ring." Then he sets about haggling down the price of the veil with the salesman. "Don't have no fucking kids," is added a moment after the Reilan relationship description to Sienna.

Sienna /grins/. That was fun. Now maybe he won't check her out? "Ah, got it." She waits until the haggling is done before she steps up to the counter, but before she begins she glances at Thierry from the corner of her eye and winks. "Fucking's the only way to /get/ kids." Then she's haggling, and she's pretty darn good at it.

/Too much/. Bikinis /and/ talk of ess-ee-ecks with a /woman/ within a few breaths? Sienna makes Thierry sputter, causing him to drop the veil that's just been handed to him. He stands recovering in silence while she haggles - thankfully /that's/ nothing dirty or inappropriate - taking a step back so he can light a toke without getting yelled at by the vendor.

Sienna accepts her wrapped package and turns, pleased, though she blinks when she notices he's dropped the veil. If he doesn't bend to get it, she will, and hopefully they both don't go for it at the same time and knock their heads together.

It's down there, dropped and forgotten as Thierry concentrates on chasing /other/ thoughts out of his head - but if Sienna /does/ bend for it, he'll swoop in there first to pick it up. Quick-like. No bending over required, lady, as that will just fuel the fire. "Forgot your name," he says quietly as he straightens up, veil shoved unceremoniously into his pocket, eyes warily looking anywhere /but/ Sienna.

"Sienna. And you are Thierry." She remembers that one because it was so hard to /get/. She lets him pick up the veil, glancing at him and then looking around as well. With a warm smile, she moves past him towards the door, but takes her time in leaving so it's not an abrupt end to the conversation. "Happy turnday to your mother. I hope she likes the veil."

"Sienna." The name's repeated quietly to himself, perhaps to commit it to memory. Thierry moves out of the way to let her pass, /well/ out of the way so there's no accidental touching, and he nods to her. "Uh-huh." The sight of a group of Nowtimer-clad women coming towards the stall brings that surly frown back to his brow; he settles his toke between his lips, shoves his hands deep into his pockets, and stalks on out past Sienna before they can come in, hissing a whispered, quick 'thanks' as he tries not to push past her in his effort to escape quickly. Streetrat Thierry stomps away before the Weyr-woman can say anything else - because what would it do for him to be seen /talking/ with her?

Sienna pauses just outside of the shop to adjust her purchases and shift the bag so it's closed and tucked tight against her side as a deterrent to any potential pickpocketers. Nodding to Thierry's back after his thanks, her expression is briefly puzzled before she turns to head back towards the weyr, wondering the whole time why this guy's reputation is so poor.

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