Who

Yules, Niyati, and Desmeth

What

Yules needs some new leathers. Desmeth needs a hat. Niyati might need some rest after this.

When

It is at night of the seventh day of the twelfth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Craft Complex

OOC Date

 

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Niyati's Workroom

Windows overlooking the sea offer an outstanding view when the shutters of this nicely sized apartment are open and the theme of sea and sky has been carried through into the furnishings. A bed that borders on large takes up one side of the room, its posts hung with white, gauzy material that obscures the view of the light blue coverings. Small tables at either side holding vases of flowers as well as whatever the owner sees fit to place upon them before sleep.
A small sitting area is arranged in one corner, consisting of long cushions upon a richly colored rug while smaller pillows have been scattered as backrests. A low table provides a surface for drinks, food, and work though yet another vase containing a fragrant floral arrangement dominates the space. Here, as in the rest of the room, wall hangings depict everything from plant and animal life to plays of color on fabric.
The rest of the room is open space that houses a large wardrobe as well as a long trunk and a stand containing a pitcher of water and bowl as well as a mirror. Dominating this space is a loom that could be merely for decoration but for the signs of use in the form of a half completed length of cloth.


It's been a long day, and Yules looks just a little peeky under the eyes as she presents herself to the Weaver journeyman, hat theoretically in hand. She still hovers a little by the doorway, but is quick to state her reason of being here: "Good evening, Niyati." Sounds polite enough, "I'm sorry if I interrupted your sleep, but I just got off the Sands." She's still shifting from foot to foot: "Desmeth has finally told me to get new Leathers. So…" The woman trails off, both hands spreading to indicate the Weaverly workroom, "Uh, he sort of insisted."

"Sleep? Oh I've not been able to sleep just yet. The very thought of a bunch of stuffy old men with delusions of a fashion sense coming to see if /my/ work measures…." Deep breaths, deep breaths. Niyati's features school into a pleasant smile and she even manages a chuckle at herself. "Well, but that's neither here nor there, is it? I hadn't had a chance to convey my congruatulations. That is /quite/ a clutch. Just lovely, but you know that. Come sit! Let me get you something to drink and we can discuss these leathers. I hope you haven't been talked into rose or pink…"

Clearly not 'up' on the travails of Crafting at Southern, Yules just looks a little confused: "Stuffy old men? We don't have enough?" Hmph, of course. "Thank you. Desmeth is very proud - thus, the new leathers," and the Wingleader's just a little put out by her dragon's unmoving stance. "Oh, a drink would be nice. And no, no rose or pink, not that Desmeth wouldn't be tickled, er, pink at the idea." Yules takes a tentative step towards where she thinks Niyati means to sit (even if it's totally the wrong direction), "I want something a bit more, ah, not pink, but still a little…" sounds like she's having trouble with the word, "Feminine." The last syllable is clipped and Yules rushes on, "And something that will complement Desmeth's colouring."

Fortunately, it's exactly the right direction and Niyati brings out a light wine this time instead of her usual tea. "Apparently our esteemed Northern crafthalls have decided that we all need to be one big happy family. They just get to decide which ones to adopt. They can evaluate all they like." Instead of sitting, she walks to the chest and searches through it long enough to pull out a large book that looks as if it is filled with leather. "I've had a chance to see the eggs and he has every reason to be proud. With shells that lovely, they're bound to be quite handsome dragons." The book is placed on the table in front of the couch before she finally sits, then reaches out to open it up to the darker shades of rose and burgandy. "Feminine without being girly?"

Sinking into one chair, Yules' eyes alight on the wine but replies well enough, "Well. They'll find the heat most likely unbearable, or something," not aggrieved at the slight to Southern at ALL, this one. She watches Niyati move about and her eyes light up at the sight of the book and in agreement, "Exactly. I want to look good, while yelling." Said so calmly like this is the every-day situation. It might just be. Yules eyes the pink and the burgandy with pursed lips: "Hm…" One finger flips to the darker wine red and then flips to a sheaf of leather that is bright, ostentatiously yellow: "Maybe with accents like this?" Did that sound too hopeful?

Niyati leans in to inspect the colors. "I could make that work," she agrees thoughtfully. "Normally I'd say you needed to pick a more subtle color but this time…" She half smiles. "Well, you do need to be /noticed/ after all. Once you've got their attention, you should be able to keep it past the first yell." Pause. "And they'll find /me/ as unbearable as the heat." Attitude. She has it. "Oh you know, a little rolled leather, like cording only sturdier and more insulating. It'll be like those lovely burgandy and yellow flowers I've seen around here and there. Big things hanging from cliffs and around rocks." She picks up her book to begin sketching before turning it to view. "Something like this? We can line the major seems with the yellow and maybe do a half and half on the gloves."

Yules is clearly surprised that the Weaver agrees: "Yes?" Confirmational that her own picks are as good as she thought: "Desmeth wasn't sure about the yellow," is her explanation for uncertainty. Though, "Yes, the flowers… Those are pretty. No one mocks those." Possibly because flowers just don't care. Craning her neck to look at Niyati's sketchbook, Yules huffs, "Yes, like that. That's quite nice." Her emphasis of the word might indicate Yules thinks it's more than nice, but she does wonder, "What about the gloves? Half and half?"

"I think it makes just the right contrast in this situation and it will make his hide stand out nicely as well. Oh the gloves, we'll do the palm side in the burgandy and the backhand in yellow." Niyati frowns. "Mocking is something very small minded people do. I don't have patience for it, really." She does look pleased at the appraisal of her design. "You'll be eye catching and stand out without being gaudy. Should go quite well with a well timed yell or two."

Speaking of the dragon, Yules frowns for a moment, her eyes crossing in thought. In fact, there's an uncomfortable silence that stretches out for a minute before the rider comes back to the here-and-now, nodding: "Desmeth says it will be good. He's the sartorial one of us," as a hand waves down the front of Yules' garb for her visit; a loose shirt and pants hemmed half-way up the calf, "Me, I like comfortable." True dat. As for mocking, Yules grins a little sharply: "They don't do a lot of it anymore." No more explanation is given on that quarter, but for a moment, Yules is away again before coming back: "Have you done work with Donatien?" The sharpness in Yules' voice hasn't changed much; but now, it's differently directed, now at Niyati herself.

Niyati grins as she sets the book aside. "Well, then I'm glad he approves! Oh I adore comfort. You should be able to feel as if you could fall asleep in whatever you wear. Probably not leathers, but they should at least be comfortable as well as attractive." She nods then. "Well, I should hope not. Donatien? No I haven't yet, but I've hoped to. Leather is such an interesting material to work with. A real challenge. I've been hoping to have an excuse to ask for his assistance and now I have one! I have to say you do have a way of making things brighter. I'm not in the least bothered by the prospect of evaluation now."

Mph. Yules mphs again, actually, nodding along in agreement with the Weaver journeyman: "Should know Donatien. He's a good sort, does marvelous boots. Doesn't do much standard weavering though, leaves that to his apprentice. Arnut. Dharnit. Arnaut. Whatever that boy's blasted name is." Suddenly, Yules' eyes focus on the wall behind Niyati like it's a very interesting feature and she asks, "Are you heading to bed right now?" Abrupt.

Niyati chuckles. "I'll remember to ask after his apprentice and let you know. Bed? Oh, not quite yet. I'm sorry to say that in my zeal to show these evaluators that they could evaluate my fashionably clad arse walking away from them, I made a bit of a mess of my supplies. Well, never craft in anger, as they say. It's my own fault. At least I didn't have at the loom this time. I've no apprentice to help me clean up the mess THAT would have made. Did you need another outfit drawn up? I'm not opposed to a little procrastination."

The look of relief on Yules' face is not subtle: "Oh good. And art is never neat. When you cook, use whatever utensil necessary; I imagine it's a bit like weaving." From topic to topic: "No. Thank you." The latter is a bit more apologetic, and Yules continues: "Desmeth wants a hat. Well, another one." Customary roll of eyes here, "And wants to know if you can make him one." Yules rises to her feet, and has already taken a few steps to the door - someone's impatient, and it's not Yules. "So you'd need, like, dragon measurements, right?" When uncertain, this brownrider goes for tetchy, "Figures he'd roust someone out of bed for a damn hat…"

Niyati laughs. "Oh my, a hat? Oh this I /have/ to do. I may be the only Weaver who'll ever be able to say she's been out to measure a dragon for a hat." Far be it from her, apparently, to miss THAT opportunity. "By all means…" She stops to pick up the measuring ribon, making sure to pick up the longer of the three. "Of his head and the positioning of his headknobs…" She takes a moment to stifle another laugh. "By all means, let's get his measuerments. It wouldn't do to keep anyone waiting on a hat."


Lower Bowl
Cobblestones sweep as far as the eye can see, a unique feature to the lower section of the bowl — but necessary, perhaps, as the stepped western bowl drains off into this high-trafficked area. The shallow bowl is bounded by craggy-black bowlwall with entrances pockmarked - and some boarded over in an effort to prevent entry from un-renovated caverns. Directly south, the wall neatly crumbles away to roll southerly into rollicking fields of soft hills; a glance of the stables can be seen through the gap, nestled against the entrance bridge that spans westward.



Desmeth is waiting - there's enough light from various glows, left over from the celebrations of Khalyssrielth's (and Desmeth's!) clutch that the brown is pretty well defined. Yules is still crotchety as she leaves the Craft area with Niyati in pursuit: "Oh, stop that," she scolds the dragon, who's getting very good at ignoring his rider's crotcheting, "Yes, the weaver is here, she brought her tape measure and bookstrap and whatelse have you." Desmeth brings his head down low, conveniently having waited where he's out of the way of most foot traffic, so both humans can get a good look at the top of his head. "Desmeth would like a… dapper hat," and it's clear Yules has no idea what that means: "Short brim, a bit of height over the headknobs… Sma… What do you mean, small? So it can fit between your headknobs?" Clearly, Desmeth is crazy. Yules looks over at Niyati: "And rounded, he says. Nothing 'square'." Yes, with airquotes.

Niyati is doing her level best to not laugh, which becomes easier once she begins to consider the task at hand. "Between them? Oh, I thin I know just the thing." Fortunately she always tucks her sketchbook into that length of scarf that wraps about her waist and she pulls it out to make a quick outline of said hat that's somewhere between a Panama and a fedora. "How about that? We could notch it a little at the sides so that it can't get knocked about by the wind. … unless you mean to fly in it. Then you'd need a strap."

Desmeth shifts and moves so he can come see what Niyati's drawn. Unfortunately, dragon eyes don't read terribly well, so Yules moves over to peer as well. "Yes. Yes, something exactly like that." And for the flying? "Oh, yes, a strap would be necessary - perhaps something with a quick release, but adjustable on the sides, in case the wind isnt as strong?" Southern will be the new fashion house for dragon millinery. From above, Desmeth sniffles at the page and then sniffles again. His head lowers while Yules is discussing the fine points of comfortable hatting: "He doesn't want to wear one in a Threadfall, just in case it could get ruined…" Now, Desmeth's head is getting in the way of the conversation and Yules has to push his nose away, "Sorry - but for sweeps and so on, he'd like something," nose again, shoved out of the way, "to keep sun off, look a little," nose, away, "chic… Desmeth, would you STOP it?"

Niyati takes a few seconds to speak, and it's clearly to keep her laughter under firm control. "We could do a quick release sort of thing. Sort of like a clasp on a necklace, you squeeze it and it comes undone. Well now that /does/ make sense. Hard to pay attention to what you're doing with the sun beating down on your head." Even if she can make it make sense, it's still just damn funny. This time her attention goes to the dragon. "The color?"

Desmeth will not go quietly into the night - he is brave, he is vaunted, he is… Desmeth of the hats! He gives his rider a mildly disgusted look and huffs hard enough to make Yules' shirt ripple. In return, Yules pins him with a hard look, but tries to sound normal: "Oh, that would be good. He'd be very pleased with that." As for colour? "No, not black, Desmeth, that'll be just as … I don't care if it's chic. You'll get firehead or something. Pern's first case." Back to Niyati: "How about a dark green? That would go well, yes? Or," shudder, "rose to match his straps?"

Evidently this is another argument that Yules lost to Desmeth: "He says he's the one wearing it, it should be his choice." Desmeth brings his head low, cocking his head charmingly to look up at Niyati. O hai there. Yules just grits her teeth: "And he chooses you to Stand for his children." There's a rote tone to Yules' words, like she's translating word for word. And then, a little more awkwardly: "So, um. Will you?" Given that Yules' hand is already in her pants. Pocket.

"Oh a nice rose to match the straps with a darker band to match Yules' leathers would be perfect. Absolutely perfect." Niyati is really doing her best to act as if she gets charming looks from dragons every day. "But of course, he should have final say." For a moment, it looks like she's about to say something else but then she's looking between rider and dragon. "Well now, with charming looks like that how could I ever refuse!" Of course, she still appears to be trying to sort all of this out in her head, so it'll probably dawn on her later. For now, half her brain is still trying to fathom the dragon hat.

Sagging a little with relief, Yules nods and pulls out a white knot from her pocket: "Good, then." Desmeth's a little more eloquent, huffing cutely from his position, then raising his head high above theirs to trumpet happily. "Desmeth!" Scolding hasn't gotten her anywhere but Yules keeps trying, "There are people trying to sleep!" Desmeth coughs his whatever, or maybe that's a bit of firestone left over, but Yules is already handing over the knot and repeating the ol': "There's no drinking or fancy-pantsying going on during Candidacy, of course," like Niyati should know this already, but, "And you'll be busy, so if you want to come find your bunk before the good ones are taken…" Again, Yules is stepping forth then looking to see if Niyati follows suit. Desmeth's happy to follow along with.

Niyati does her best to stifle the laugh that is her response to that bugle but manages. "I'll be sure to let everyone know what a masterful job you've done of it tomorrow," she assures the dragon before taking the knot. "I suppose the only thing I'll miss is the occasional wine," she replies. "But busy I can do and I'll get the leathers done along with the hat. They won't take THAT much time to get done." Not knowing the way to the barracks, she follows along behind Yules. "I do hope they have us help in the kitchens. I've always wondered about what goes on in those."

It's a faintly knowing grin Yules has as she starts off: "Oh, you'll definitely find out about the kitchens…" And they're off!

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