Who

Kairmine

What

The Hatching Caverns Entryway banner is almost complete. Kairmine says goodbye to his old booth, just in case. Not the fish, though. Screw that guy.

When

It is midmorning of the twenty-second day of the fourth month of the eleventh turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Central Bazaar, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 29 Jun 2017 07:00

 

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Central Bazaar

All roads in the weyr ultimately lead here, to this center of commerce. Canvas awnings jut out over time worn, sandy cobblestone, sheltering customers and wares alike from the majority of Igen's elements, and funnel scents both mouthwatering and vomit inducing through the thin streets. Almost all store fronts are open air, delineated by sandstone arches with intricately carved facades. The insides of these stone-shingled buildings act as an amplifier for the salesmens' bawled enticements, and are held up by the chipped swirls of marble pillars.


Alright, it’s been a sevenday since ye brought this thing and after much examining, poking and prodding by a fine Journeyman such as meself and maybe a few unmentionable others… It could be mended, but so much of the original fabric has been frayed and worn out, hemming isn’t gonna save it. It’ll look uneven and it will take away from the original appearance of the banner. A lot of the needle work would have to be pulled out and restitched and yer gonna be hard pressed to cover all the holes and hope it holds. It’s been cleaned, but best make a new one and send this one down to the archives for preserving. Make sure that Headwoman gets this letter. Can’t have all ye troublemakers kicked out of Candidacy for taking some initiative.

The letter is neatly folded and placed back into the book the weaver-turned-candidate uses to keep all of his notes when it comes to work. A paper trail might be necessary to prove the banner was taken under the best of intentions sevendays ago. Even though the booth had been his second home for turns, the place feels rather hollow and Kairmine could feel it. Everything is so clean and sterile, like he was never there and there’s a little bit of pain in his chest at the thought that he might never come back. For now, while he’s alone, he just walks around, glancing at all the old images his Journeyman posted during lessons, the patterns and measurement charts for basic tailoring. The random crude drawing that would be hung behind something work related, but sticking out to test if Kairmine actually looked at them. One he hasn’t seen before gets his attention and he groans, shoulders sagging, the man reluctantly looks… and hastily covers it up. Nothing’s changed.

All of the old noises echoing from the crossroads of the bazaar are somewhat soothing, the scents from the shops just as they always were. Soon, he might not be able to take it all in anymore. Candidacy has made him scarce in these parts as it is. Kairmine moves over to the counter, glancing over it and noting every little chip and chisel into the otherwise polished surface. Even the damn fish has been dusted and polished, with fresh scraps dangling from its gaping mouth. Those stupid fish eyes as judgemental as ever. “At least you put in an appearance, Dulci.” The little green firelizard cranes her little head out of the mouth like a little tongue and she yawns before burrowing back in for sleep. Green eyes glance up, the awning is new. Same bright brocade but redone in a newer cut of fabric. Everything is so new. Time moved on without him.

His Journeyman was never the tidy sort, so to see the booth again like this leaves the poor man with a tiny feeling of abandonment. For now, he just shoves it deep. He has to breathe and keep moving forward. At least the loom looks like it hasn’t changed a bit. Hesitantly, he steps on one of the pedals and watches the mechanisms move. Same smooth rhythm with the little kick towards the end. Glad some things never change.

Kairmine moves back behind the curtain, stepping over to stand between a pair of standing frames which are both erected in the open work area behind his Journeyman’s booth away from prying eyes. Light from the canvas overhead fills the room with a golden glow, giving the weaver-turned-candidate just enough room to see the differences between the original and the reproduction down to the finest detail. Fortunately for the weaver, the simplicity of the banner didn’t require any unusually high level of skill, just several marks to supply an adequate amount of thread dyed to the same colors to prevent any level of inconsistency.

He reaches up, touching the threads and noting how and where they overlap. The standing frames make it a little easier to work on, allowing him to move from one side to another without much strain on his back while the stitches are made in quick but cautious succession. Also to make sure it’s as accurate to the original as humanly possible. There really is little downtime after chores, so this project has taken longer than he imagined, when it would’ve taken nothing more than a few days uninterrupted when he was a mere apprentice rather than a candidate. Thankfully, it’s all done in more durable materials with a stronger hem around the edges to keep the fraying at bay. It’ll be long before it would have to be touched again.

Igen’s three black sand dunes stand in stark contrast over the rich yellow, together representing the desert weyr. If this banner had any more intricate designs or patterns to it, there’d be no way it would be done before the hatching… The hatching. It’s soon, and the thought of it looming in the near future only makes the task a little more pressured. It wouldn’t do well to have it missing from the archway when the people of Igen and else-weyr arrive and not see the familiar piece. Kairmine places his hands over his face, taking a deep breath and holding it before running his fingers through his hair as he exhales. A little part of him is worried, it’s… a little unusual that no one’s come and ask where the original went. There’s no way something so important as the banner would just be forgotten. Kairmine shakes it off. That can’t be right. He just needs to finish this and send it back to be put back up where it belongs. "This… just might be my last one."

Almost there, just a little bit more.

The hatching has to be soon, that’s what the whispers say as he does his chores throughout the weyr and the little bits of gossip that manage to slip through the bazaar. Despite it all, if he’s left standing on those sands come hatching day, he could leave behind this contribution to the weyr before falling back into obscurity.

Of all the projects ye chose to do, Kairmine. Ye had to choose this one.

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