Who

Daenerys, Milosh, Echo

What

Just a simple fitting for a belt commissioned from Daenerys by Milosh for Echo.

When

It is afternoon of the tenth day of the second month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

The Cattery (Daenerys' Yurt), Igen Weyr

OOC Date 31 Jan 2018 06:00

 

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The Cattery

The tools of one's trade are never quite retired; along one leather-and-lace lined wall of this intimate, monochrome space, they are on display, fleshing knives, scrapers, awls, and various brushes are hung in precise order, a tight-woven wicker basket beneath them, empty but worn and well-used. Tied between two posts, a net holds various cured skins, ready to be cut and shaped into various kinds of gear; that same set of posts also supports a worktable whose shelves keep various bits of parchment organized and provides a convenient workspace from which his goods are produced and repairs are made. Flung across the floorspace are two large black feline hides, fur side up; the heads still retain their skulls, all empty eye sockets and rows of gleaming white teeth, while the paws display sharp talons polished to a deadly gleam. As far away from the opening as one can get, yet another fur is spread over a comfortable, pillow-stuffed hammock stretching to clai the small alcove in which it's been stationed. Yet more posts support a narrow balcony that circles the walls at just above the height of a very tall man; at either end, a rope ladder dangles. What's up there, no one knows, nor is willing to risk life and limb to find out about. Scattered about are piles and piles of pillows embroidered in black and gold, black and silver, and black and blue.


Afternoon, and Daenerys — miracle of miracles — has some free time. Free time in which to work on the intricate belt he's been comissioned to make for Echo, putting the final touches in place: tiny, tiny carved shells, each in the shape of a runner mid gallop. Once placed, it will look as though a runner is chasing itself around the Herder's waist, broken only by the buckle itself. The leather itself is woven of three shades of brown, from the reddish to the nearly black, and as sturdy as can be. He's wearing very little, for his braziers are well-lit, and have warmed the interior of the yurt to near-summer: loose black harem pants ride dangerously low on those slim hips, the waist and tight-banded hems done in intricate silver embroidery. Loosely tied around those hips, a scarf, gleaming with tiny cymbals and bells, tinkling pleasantly with his every movement. His torso is bare, while each bicep is decorated with a leather bracelet. His four firelizards are up in the rafters, each attending to their grooming.

Milosh is garbed against the cold, having just come off a shift not long ago. Deciding his temper has had long enough to cool and that he should check on his order, Milosh makes his way to Daenerys' yurt, he'd collected Echo on his way there, knowing that the making of a belt requires at least one, if not a couple of fittings. He still is sort of miffed about the kiss shared between Echo and the tanner, but he'll get over it. And he's not too bothered at the moment, it seems. Reaching Daen's yurt, MIlosh announces himself and Echo with a deep "Yo!"

Having been collected, Echo follows Milosh demurely as they make their way to Daenerys' Yurt. She's a little distracted after the conversation she and the leatherworker had this morning, not to mention the friendly kiss on her cheek. Was she ever glad that one of Sir's fair wasn't around to witness that, even though she is sure it was an innocent peck on the cheek from a new friend. When they arrive, she waits back a little bit and wonders if the man is even in. "You know, he did say he had started training with the guard when I saw him earlier, maybe he's not in." Look at Echo trying to be helpful.

Yo, indeed! Daenerys looks up at the sound of that voice at his door, and spins to make his way across to allow the pair access, absently tucking his hair behind his ears so it remains clear of his face. The belt's ready for a fitting, lacking only the nitpicky details that will make it truly custom, mainly fitting it to Echo's measurements. Reaching his door, he unties and pulls back the flap, beckoning the pair inside. It's been long enough that he's quite over his pique at Milosh over a single — delightfully innocent — kiss. He eyes the pair with the kind of warmth one professional would grant another, and perhaps a hint of mischief for Echo. "Well. Here for your fitting? C'mon, then."

Milosh moves inside, eyes taking in the surroundings and mind already mapping speedy and emergency ways to get out. Such is the mind of a spy, and his keen gaze takes Daenerys in for a moment too, dressed as the man is he'd make anyone look twice. He is pretty, Milosh will give him that. He looks at Echo though, when Daen addresses him, after all, they are here for her fitting, not his. "Good afternoon Daenerys." He greets, friendly enough, for now.

Echo takes a deep breath as the leatherworker is indeed home and invites them in. Eyes downcast as the wheels are still turning, as she waits for Milosh to enter first and then follows behind, her gaze still on the ground in front of her, completely lost in her own thoughts for the moment before she remembers she is the reason they are there and then she looks up to find both men looking at her expectantly. "Huh?" she squeaks. "Did I miss something?" Then her eyes really take in Daenerys in all his shirtless glory and her usually almond shaped eyes grow round in surprise she gives him a quick once over, before she turns away from the two of them, a blush rising to her cheeks. "Shard Daen, you keep your yurt near tropical." She chuckles nervously as she makes a show of shrugging out of her heavy fleece lined leather jacket.

Oh, Daenerys knows he's pretty; that's the root of trouble, with this one. His gaze takes in the pair, half-hidden by his lashes, and the hint of a smirk plays around the corners of his mouth as he steps further back into the yurt and letting Milosh look all he wants — the place holds no secrets, bar those of lover to lover, or more rarely friend to friend. There's only one exit, which also serves as an entrance. But oh! how tempting it would be to tease the spy just a little bit! Too bad it's much too soon for any shenanigans that might lead to other things. His gaze drifts to Echo and her blushing face, and nobly refrains fro the teasing that might otherwise ensue. She's just adorable when she blushes, Milosh's Echo. "Hmm. I hail from a tropical island, and I miss it." He laughs softly, letting the flap fall behind the two as he turns away and glides across the space to where the belt lies, his walk deliberately a near-slink. What? He's aware of that second glance, and wants to bask in the admiration, as is his wont. "So. Your belt, Herder." He picks it up, coiling it around one hand as he turns back to her, canting his head to one side and waiting expectantly. "You'll need to lose the jacket for me to fit you properly, you know."

Milosh sits in a nearby chair, allowing for Daenerys to go about his work and so that he's out of the way. It is now he begins to watch sharply, this part of things why he'd been insistent on coming. He eyes the belt as it comes into view too, admiring the craftsmanship and the design chosen. It's definitely a handsome belt.

Echo finishes slipping out of her leather jacket and neatly hangs it over a nearby chair. The collar of the jacket was sufficient to hide her collar while out in the camp, so it is now in full view. Underneath she is wearing a simple peasant shirt in cream, tucked into her tight leather pants. Her hands go to work on removing her current belt, a little worn but well cared for. When she slips it off she places it over her jacket. Then she steps closer to Daenerys, "Ok, where do you want me?" she asks, trying to make sure her eyes don't travel down from his face, because she just knows if she does, she will start blushing again.

Daenerys's lips twitch. He can't help it, for Echo's question has so many potential answers, few of which are even slightly appropriate for the situation. One perfectly groomed eyebrow arches slowly, and he slides Milosh a look that might be full of wry amusement for the thought that he's all too sure's writ all over his face: is that an invitation or what. However, he is capable of remaining professional when he has to be, if only to keep his nice yurt nice, and merely loops the belt around her slim waist, measuring the belt's length against her proportions until he finds the proper length. There's enough room to barely get one's fingers between the belt and her belly, yet will allow her ease of movement all the same. He marks the place with a bit of chalk that is easily removed from the finished product, then measures a bit of extra length to provide enough to thread through the beautiful buckle. Looking up, he meets Echo's eyes, his own still dancing with supressed mirth. "Comfortable, Echo?"

Oh yes, Milosh noticed that look, but he's choosing to ignore it in favor of trusting Echo to behave herself. All the same, he watches Daen's movements like a hawk. "The design is well laid, good work." Milosh isn't afraid to compliment where one might be due. He's leans back in the chair and goes quiet again, in order to allow Echo to answer.

At the look passing between Daenerys and Milosh, Echo hikes an eyebrow in confusion, what was that for? But then Daen gets to work on her fitting and she awkwardly holds her arms up and out of the way. When the belt is wrapped around her waist, she can't help but look down at it when Milosh gives his compliment, taking in the detail work and craftmanship. "Wow, that's beautiful Daen." She whispers as her gaze flicks back to him, but unfortunately it travels over his very near, very bare torso before getting to his face, pulling a pretty blush to her cheeks. Is she comfortable? She'd be a lot more comfortable if he'd put on a sharding shirt. No wait, he's talking about the belt. She nods a little bit and smiles softly, "Oh yes, it's very comfortable."

"Ah, thank you Milosh; I wasn't certain it would work until today." And yet, it had. Somehow, the theme managed to fall into place at the very last minute. Good luck with that whole wearing a shirt thing, Echo, Daen doesn't do shirts in his yurt. Were it summer, he'd likely be wearing even less clothing. And there's that blush again! Daenerys offers her a gentle, serene smile for her trouble, and slowly — perhaps a tad too slowly — removes the belt from her waist and lays it aside. "So are you." It's an honest compliment, with no hidden meaning behind it, for once; sometimes even Daenerys can be a forthright young man. "Good. I think that'll be everything I need for now. Once the buckle's on, I'll need one final fitting to be certain nothing digs or catches." He steps back, letting the fall of his hair hide his wry expression for a long moment.

Milosh is not a blind man, Echo is indeed beautiful, and he tries to let the comment slide, however, can't help just one prickly glare in Daen's direction. Milosh too, wishes Daen would put a shirt on, one because he has Echo blushing, and two because it makes the cat-like tanner far too appealing to try and be prickly at. Really, the man's looks are a distraction. If he had ever impressed a dragon it probably would have been blue or green, such are the nature of Milosh's sexual desires. He stands when Daen announces he's done and moves to join them, standing just behind Echo.

Well so much for trying to keep her blushing down, at Daen's compliment her cheeks go bright red as she averts her eyes down, BIG mistake as now she has an eyefull of those sharply defined muscles. Eyes grow round as she tries looking up instead. Oh that works, what a lovely ceiling. As Daenerys removs the belt, a little shiver runs up her spine. But then she is very aware of Milosh's presence behind her, and suddenly she finds herself in the middle of two very pretty, long haired men. Good thing she is looking up at the ceiling, it's simply facinating.

Adorable Daenerys is adorable? Perhaps only in his mind, that actually happens on a regular basis. But if it keeps Milosh just slightly off-kilter to see Daenerys as appealing, then he'll go right along with it. But look, Milosh is glaring at him, and that cheeky smile is back, along with a subtle flicker of long, long lashes, especially now that Milosh is right behind Echo. Hello, Echo, would you like to be made slightly more uncomfortable right now, what with the very close eyeful of a body honed to the best of his ability through long hours of dance and exercise? Idly, he picks up a bit of scrap leather, running it through long, lean fingers as he looks at the pair sidelong. Somehow though he is determined to ignore it, he can feel the pair's eyes on him almost like a physical caress and very nearly purrs his pleasure. He might even be preening just a little bit beneath it all. Mrrow? "Do you have time for a drink? For hospitality's sake, you understand." Does he dimple at them like the very imp of the perverse, attempting to prolong the awkward tension that radiates outward? Nah, not Daenerys! Just ignore the flirtatious way he sets his teeth into his lower lip, the very picture of playful indecision.

What a strange day. What a strange encounter. This was supposed to be a belt fitting right? MIosh isn't dumb, he can feel the tension in the air and most of it is lusty tension. What the fuck? A hand moves to Echo's waist, intending to guide her to the door so they can make their exit. But then Daen is offering a drink and Milosh nods, not wanting to be rude, for hospitality's sake that is. "A drink would be great." And maybe a shift back into the real dimension? Not likely.

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