He knows not what he does

[Anonymous]

It was a beautiful city to say the least, it reminded him very much of Arca, just...smaller. Compared to Arca, it was a pretty quaint little place, though no doubt to others it was quite large. He had decided to stay on the Whitesand side of the city, finding that there the corruption was a bit more to his liking. Not that he liked corruption over all, but if he had to pick between the two cities and their corruption, Whitesands was a little better off.

It was quite an interesting sight, to see a man in the guard armour of another city walking confidently down the streets of Selevea. He had the sigils of Serendipity and Arca on his armour, as well on the tattered blue tabard that was attached to his shoulders. Despite the rather noble look of his armour, and of the halberdpike that he carried (He was still unable to tell if the weapon was a halberd or a pike or a combination.) the rest of the man looked particularly average and rather pedantic really. He was of average height for a human male, he didn't look altogether that special, more so with the visor of his helmet down. The only thing one could see was his lips and teeth, which...were odd. Some of them had been filed and made a little bit sharper.

Which they were.

The man stopped for a moment to raise his visor, looking around at the busy streets. He had strange eyes...they were completely green, a bright green for that matter, with small slits for pupils. A pleasant grin spread across his face as he wondered what to do in this exciting city. He just wondered why he had decided to wear his armour out. It might have been because he felt better in it, he felt more...uh...safe? No, it wasn't safe. Comfortable! That was the word he was looking for. "Yes yes, I'm safe in my metal clothes too, but that's not the point." He said irritably seemingly to himself, looking downward somewhat at himself. Rolling his eyes he decided to start walking again.

There was a lot of very interesting shops in the city, and he decided to find himself somewhere to replace his tabard. There had to be a place that could make him up a new one. The one thankfully wasn't really important to him, it wasn't like the one that his mother had made for him when he became a guard...so he could just easily replace this one! His walk was quick, it wasn't hard to find a seamstress in this city after all. The shop he strode into with his head held high was pretty busy, which made him rethink what he should do.

"No, I'm not a guard here, I can't demand official business here, that's not how it works." He muttered quietly once more to himself. It was slightly annoying to answer all these questions, but it had always been better than the alternative...which he was glad that they couldn't go through with anymore. "You know, we could always go to Esfia's and get her to sew us something." One woman said quietly as they waited in line. "I would love to but I don't have any gems...though did you see the scarf she made out of my grandmother's ring?" Her friend said back to her. Delicate brown eyebrows raised slightly as he focused on the women. "Pardon me, I couldn't help but overhear...what's this about spinning a ring into a scarf?" The guard asked as he stepped up to them.

"Oh yes, Esfia, she's a seamstress here on the Whitesands side. She does her sewing out of her house, she does beautiful work too. She has this power to take gold, silver, and precious gems and can sew them into things." The older woman explained tot he young guard, though she was looking at him a little strangely, more so at his eyes. He just smiled and nodded, clanging his armoured hand on his chest. "Where would she be located?" He asked, though there was already something that was recording the instruction. After he had received the location, he politely excused himself and decided to go find this strange solid weaving woman.

It only took him a little white, but finally he found a house that had a sign in the window saying simply "Seamstress." It was logical to assume that this was the place, so he strode over to the door and stopped in front of it. Was it a business? Should he just go in? It looked like a house after all so...he had a thoughtful expression on his face as he tried to think about what to do. Better safe than sorry to say the least, so he lifted his hand and knocked upon the door. Hopefully someone was home...

((I hope this is okay considering that she's deaf and won't be able to hear but ahem! Let's hope you can respond! If not let me know!))

[Anonymous]

((No-no thats fine! I hope mine is ok ^ ^;))

The day had started with a small storm, arriving from the west like a bull at a gate and departing just as quickly. This had startled the young seamstress and caused her to be up with the lark, dressing swiftly as to not seem rude to any other early risers and departing like a calf from the bulls anger, the little breeze wandered swiftly to her mornings meal. This was compiled mainly of a few bits and pieces from last night, cold meats; mainly chicken thighs as they were far cheaper than the breast and in Esfia's mind more succulent, a slice of bread; picking off the little dashes of mould and making a mental note to purchase a fresh loaf later on and of course a glass of water. It wasn't that her funds had run so low she could not possibly address the problem of food it was simply that Esfia was the type of person to play her cupboards to the knife edge, till she had only a bean in the house before considering going shopping for anything to sustain her.

When the winds had settled down outside and her morning rush had ceased, Esfia maintained that now was a good time to rinse her face. The cloth was cool against the flesh of her face as the last traces of sleep were summoned back into the bowl beneath her and with it ran away with her nightmares; terrible dreams witnessed the night previous of dark horses and being chased but not moving. Esfia was certainly not one for nightmares, not that anyone ever is, mainly because her sleep was never accompanied by dreams no, usually her sleep was very drab and uninteresting consisting of a darkness pervading her vision before the sun awoke her the next day.
The young woman mused at how maybe her dreams; so beige and unappealing if any chose to accompany her, were a sign she truly did need a change of pace.
Not that sewing wasn't her passion oh no, and as the morning delivery came; from somewhere beyond the reaches of a boat sent by her mother off having grand adventures with Kings and monks, Esfia buzzed with an excitement to start her first orders.

"I'd like a full length dress, paned sleeves and a lace trim round the collar." He first order brought a diamond choker and requested various materials from those laid out in a hotchpotch sort of affair round and about her front room, to which Esfia replied that it'd be done in no more than three days, received her first tickling of money and laid out the details neatly round the back; in other words her kitchen-come-store room.
Busy assembling the garments of today, Esfia was quite aware of what people wanted. Fashions always changed but one thing stayed the same, a bit of glamour never went amiss. A dash of gold, a sprinkling of silver and it lifted a boring garment and turned it into something that would turn heads. Hopefully, Esfia pondered, her business would begin to pick up with six months and the money that flowed in would be enough to give her a change of scene- somewhere deeper in the city would be nice. With a perfect flower arrangement outside a perfectly marbled building with five- no six people working for her... The finest fabrics in all the land at her disposal as well as the finest jewels across the globe. Foreigners would travel from every corner to gain even the smallest time with her- oh it'd be marvellous. Then her mother could stop her travelling and settle close by, all the letters from far away would cease and Esfia could go back to being with her mother like a parent and child should.

But the dreaming ceased as a shadow eclipsed her front door and the faint tickle at her toes reminded her that there would be many more days of this before her dreams would be close and so, the young woman rose to her feet and eased her front door open. The gentleman she saw was not of the type she had become accustomed to. He was a armour clad sort of fellow with a stance that billowed not only his authority but a very casual air as if he knew he was a segment of authority but that didn't stop his conversations with the normal folk. A guard perhaps? He did have that air so Esfia took him as such. As she drank him in she noticed his rather extraordinary eyes like the sun pouring through the green of a leaf. They were quite remarkable... And Esfia found herself staring, like a bee caught upon a flower- an acid green flower that is. It was only when some moments had passed before the female righted her actions and smiled- "Hello sir. And how may I help you?" What a strange, soft voice fled her lips as if rather than being batted out her mouth by her tongue it rather rolled over her tonsils and escaped with an air so unlike one who at least had some idea of their pitch and tone- no these first words were tentative as if even her speech was played on the knife edge; practise until she found the notes that were correct.

[Anonymous]

((Yours is absolutely awesome!))

"Yes, I can hear someone too. Well I don't care how you're hearing them. Hush." Another strange interaction, as if he were talking to someone that was standing right beside him. Everything went quiet as the door opened up, and the man smiled at the woman who had opened it. She was a woman of such elegant beauty it seemed, he found his eyes searching her own chocolate ones as she gazed at him. She was a good deal shorter than him, and he did have to look down a little as he stood a foot taller than her. There was so much of her to take in, from the bouncing curls of her soft brown hair, to her milky white skin.

There was this moment of electricity, none of them seemed to talk, and then silence was broken by a strange voice. It was practised, forced, rehearsed a thousand times over, but it eluded him as to why. However, that didn't matter, the young woman was an attractive sight, and he was glad that he had shaved this morning, and had polished his armour. He'd hate to look slovenly in front of this woman. For just a moment, his eyes seemed to flash, his pupils expanding for a moment before returning their slitted appearance. "Good afternoon Miss, I hope I'm not disturbing you." He started off delicately. Flirting wasn't exactly a strong point of his, but he knew that he had an unconscious charm of sorts, and if he just acted as the guard that he was, then he'd be fine.

"I'm a visiting guard from Arca, and I seemed to have brought a rather ratty tabard...cloak combination..." He gestured to the cloak at his back, using his free hand to pull it around and show it to her. Why did he have so many things that were a combination of things? Halberdpike, Tabardcloak, soon he'd have some sort of Sworddagger and Axepick. Not a pick-axe mind you, but a weapon that was primarily an axe with a little bit of a pick attached to it. He quickly shook those thoughts from his head though. "I was told that you can do some amazing things with clothes...and was wondering if I could get a new tabard...cloak...combination made? I'd certainly find myself the envy of every guard in Arca...and not only 'cause I got to spend some time talking to such a divine woman." The guard gave a goofy little grin, one that helped to lessen the fact he had some sharpened teeth. Of course, it was at that time he remembered some of his manners. "I apologize, my name is Neilson, Guard Neilson of Arca...most people just call me Neilson though." He hurriedly went through the introduction, feeling a little idiotic that he had not remembered that first.

Good start, real smooth! Definitely showed that he may once have been a farm boy that had been in the city a tad too long.

[Anonymous]

((  :D oh thankyou! Yours was pretty splendid too!))

He smiled.

It were as if the spinning top had been ceased by some unseen hand and all Esfia could do was stare, suspended in time. Her eyes blinked a few times, making the deciphering of his speech a difficult task however she understood. He seemed kind, almost too kind. A guard- a kind guard so friendly to a woman he had never met; this seemed almost too unheard of for, wasn't it his duty to remain on the cusp of society never venturing into their worlds but like a puppeteer controlling it from the outside. Wheels within wheels, Esfia thought as her once soft words came out in a harsh, stilted rasp. "You are not-not disturbing me sir." Her body shifted, bare toes curled in the dust and debris about her door. So much like a rabbit, her first tentative steps into the wide world, the first time her eyes drank in such a place both eclipsed by her only child like fear.
Life to her were as if suspended high on a tightrope with only her vision for support and the focus she gave him was unlike any creature should give. Through her doe like fear at being approached by a man of authority and her curiosity as to what she could have possibly done wrong, curls bounced and eyes watched his like a hawk; dancing between the green stars upon his face and his slightly dry, world worn lips while they whispered codes the young seamstress lived to decipher.

His request was not one she had ever done before. She dealt with smart clothes, outfits for high society but never a cloak... Tabard... Thing. And she stayed silent throughout his conversing, eyes boring holes into his speech while mind worked like a machine to work out every stitch, every breath and every motion it'd take to make this piece of uniform no less than perfect. Eyebrows knitted together, still not even computing a response beyond her very slight nods.
Her fingers reached out and ran down the fabric as if touching a swirling pool; flesh just skimming the waters and it was clear this piece of fabric could indeed be saved. It wasn't as battered as it first appeared, true the edges were frayed but with some handiwork it'd look as good as new.

"This... Can be saved." She began, finding the words slowly as if choosing the brightest stars in a cloud filled sky. "If you... Remove it I can get to work. It shouldn't... Take long." A pink tongue ran over her lips, wondering if that was all she had to say. It did seem that way; his bright smile and casual grace skimming the surface of her thoughts and never venturing to a mind that may see it as anything 'flirtatious'. No to Esfia, he just seemed kind and happy. A kind, happy guard by the name of Neilson.
Esfia looked down upon his words that she was anything close to 'devine' and thanked him gently, easing the door open behind her to allow him passage inside. All the while her mind rolled over not only his tabard/cloak but those teeth so very inhuman- those eyes almost too bright. Esfia reasoned with herself that if he did want to cause any 'trouble' she could do no more than polity show him the door for she could do nothing more to a guard than that.
"I will try to fix your uniform Mr Neilson, sir. It is a pleasure to meet you... My name is Esfia."

Once inside, it was clear her duties had started early in the morning. Already, in the gloomy home illuminated by candlelight even when the sun was at its highest point, clothes and half made garments were laid neatly where space was free. A box upon the floor by the fire, so very worn, contained various jewels and artefacts neatly labelled with various coloured ribbons and kept safe. To anyone else, these items would have been perfect to sell and buy a fine home in the country. Dutiful and honest as always, Esfia could never do such a thing.
Upon a long dining room table, a white cloth was laid. Upon it was arranged various needles ranging from the longest, largest eye at the very right, to a needle no bigger than half a human pinky finger and as fine as a hair at the very left. A variety of thimbles sat neatly behind them and all the colours of thread a human mind could think of were stacked carefully in order upon a wooden tray, with equal rectangular compartments for each shade. An old book, with yellowing pages was half open beside the area in which a dress of a maroon shade was draped, obviously the space in which Esfia worked. The book detailed notes and drawings of clothing and tips she had accumulated in her time as seamstress.

For him she laid out food, a bit of bread and some freshly cooked chicken all the while wandering between boxes placed upon a shelf in the very corner of the room; constantly followed by the eyes of three wrens perched upon the fireplace. Rolling in her hands were a selection of sapphires ranging from a vivid, almost black shade to a milky teal. A wooden cylinder no longer than her thumb was sat upon her desk while pale hand began opening and closing, causing something rather magical to take place. The gems began to turn into a goo between her hands, shimmering and casting a magnificent shade upon the opposing wall as the sunlight licked each dangling droplet. Esfia kept going till the globules of stone became thinner and thinner until within her hands lay a vast quantity of sapphire threads and then, patiently she wound the long thread around the cylinder and cast him a look. And a smile. "Please... Set it upon the table here-" fingers tapped the area of the table she wished for Neilson to place the cloak. "And... I shall begin."

[Anonymous]

((x3))

If there was one thing that Neilson had learned, above all the fighting, the battle stances, tactics and weapon training, it was that a smile could go a lot further than a sword ever could. He was no stranger to violence really, if it had to be employed he would, but people often liked it when you talked gently and smiled earnestly at them. Guards were supposed to be the protectors of the people, but so many of them acted...unapproachable. Usually he even left his helmet at home so that he'd look less intimidating and he'd appear more friendly. Of course, appearing friendly and actually being friendly were two different things, and he made sure to be both!

The young woman seemed to be like that...she seemed to realize his authority and his command, but he hoped to simply put her at ease. He wanted her to know that he was by no means a threat, and had not come on any official business. It was amusing to him actually, he could just order a new cloak...tabard from supply...but he didn't like being such a bother. Especially if he could just get a new one made, or hopefully have this one saved. He didn't hold any real attachment to it though, so it wouldn't be like he were sad or anything like that.

As he searched her face, he noticed her eyes just weren't upon his at all times. Something was off about the woman, but he couldn't exactly tell what. Not only did her speech seemed so...practised and carefully spoken, but her eyes were more focused on his lips, on what he was saying. He had met eccentric people before, and maybe that's all this was...though he simply couldn't let it pass. Asking however would be incredibly rude...luckily he had a more...interesting way of accumulating hidden information.

It's what made him a good guard.

"Really now? That's quite wonderful news really!" His face lit up like a child's might when told they would receive a gift. It showed on every feature on his face, the slight grin touched even his eyes. As she opened the door for him he squeezed by her into her home, his eyes searching the surrounding area. It was a very worldly looking home, definitely that of a tradeswoman. His house was sparse when it came to personal objects, he barely had anything to his name. It was better that way. When she spoke he turned his attention to her, his eyes searching that young face of hers. "Esfia, a very pretty name, but I shouldn't be surprised." It was a name that he hadn't heard before, and that made it rather unique. However, he didn't want to say words like unique and special, people might get the wrong idea, as if he were patronizing them.

He'd never imagine a more honest woman than this, he saw the box with various precious commodities within it, and couldn't imagine someone not occasionally dipping their hand into it. However, she didn't seem like a woman of wealth and high stature, the gems were obviously for her business, not for personal use. He had to admire that in a person. Honesty, especially in Selevea he had heard, was a rare thing to come by. He was still observing all the cloths and clothes that she had made, barely noticing that she laid out food for him. The smell got his attention, and he found himself looking at the food with a strange hunger in his eyes. Would it be enough. That was always the question. What would be polite for that matter?

He took a bit of the chicken, as well as a slice of bread and tried to eat as slowly and as properly as possible. Usually he would just inhale food...of course, when he ate, he would be alone, or would be in a tavern of other people not unlike him who wouldn't find a voracious eater. He managed to finish what little he had taken, and his stomach...well, his chest rumbled hungrily. "No, we'll have a meal later." Neilson said in quiet tones, ones he hoped the woman would not hear. He was interrupted by the woman asking him to place the cloak upon the table, and he set about the many things he had to do. First, his halberdpiike had to be set aside, then his helmet, allowing for his shaggy brown hair to be free. Quickly, out of shame perhaps, he ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it out and look a little more presentable. Then his gauntlets had to be removed, as did the chest piece and small pauldrons on his shoulder. When all was said and done, he finally removed the cloak and tabard, leaving only his simply rust coloured tunic.

Carefully he placed the cloak upon the table and smiled at the seamstress. "Sorry it took so long, the armour sometimes takes a while." For a split second, one could swear that the fabric around his neck and chest had suddenly...moved a bit, as if he were harbouring a rat under his clothes. His eyes winced in some pain as this happened, and the smile on his face was more forced, as if one was simply bearing through the pain.

What a strange man she had let into her house.