01-30-2010, 02:41 AM
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I don't know about experienced, since it's 12 am for me right now. I just tried to give you enough room to work with xP;
Strel gave the young woman a smug look, daintily brushing off a few stray threads that were too short to ever use again. The one who did not enjoy being complimented was most certainly going to find himself impaled somewhere. Or just grumpy, really. This was a skill in and of itself, accepting compliments without appearing vain, egotistical, or praise-hungry. It was easy to see that the redhead either needed more lessons at this or was simply not in the mood to be modest. As a designer of sorts, the duty was his to make any woman, or man, look the way they wanted to look or to find a way to raise their self esteem if by a few drops and teaspoons full at a time. The chevalier shrugged at Alaine, finally attempting to be a modest man. Naturally, he botched it the job, saying, "It's just something I know how to do." Normally, the redheaded man was far more polite than this, but the way the woman went about it, well, it could only aggravate his already massively bloated ego.
Raising a fist to his mouth, he cleared his throat in a self-conscious manner. Eying the material on hand, he noted he had far too much sunshine yellow and not nearly enough floral pink to satisfy his needs. A search for ellusive petal soft color would be required if the whole summer dress would be of the color. Yet the gears in his mind whirled and clicked, piecing together a mental picture of the outfit on some nameless mannequin. Strelein fazed out, eyes half glazed over as his concentration wavered. The outfit would be a new project for him, something mightily massive and time consuming. Oh, the prospect of it was enough to make his blood race in the way that a hard and complicated sewing puzzle could do. Perhaps a bodice of a lovely coral color shifting into a butter squash skirt or something equally light for the next few seasons. Winter would not last forever and this woman seemed like she deserved a very pretty garment for the airy spring, the warm summer, and the nippy fall. All the stitches and patterns he would need seemed to flow through his mind's eye, one picture after the other. The issues he saw were decided on how to decorate it once the two parts were joined together into a uniform piece. Though this was probably the least important of his worries. Yes, he would need to go ahead and find a full, or almost full, bolt of cloth for the skirt part. In the very least. A good quality dress could not be made from the modified cloth of blouses.
Finally, the chevalier remembered where he was and whom he was standing with. Sporting a sheepish grin, he ran a hand through his dyed red mane. "Please, I wish you wouldn't call me 'sir' like that. I'm not that old. I'm only two," he said, looking awkward at it. No one else referred to him like that to his very face. Maybe jokingly some would, but none treated the man as though he were truly a gentleman worthy of such a chivalrous mark. At least she too kept some professionalism about her, chiding the male as though he were a naughty pup not listening to his mother. Guilty look aside, Strelein nodded curtly, keeping to the table as support. "That sounds like an amazing idea. I swear, where do you come up with these things?" he joked lightly, trying to go slow enough on his feet that the woman would choose to lead the way. "And as for the dress, I'll be sure to bring it to you - you live here, right? - when I finish it." A twinkle in his eye betrayed his interest in the project. "But I hope that you won't mind my refusing you seeing it until the final fitting, mhm?"
I don't know about experienced, since it's 12 am for me right now. I just tried to give you enough room to work with xP;
Strel gave the young woman a smug look, daintily brushing off a few stray threads that were too short to ever use again. The one who did not enjoy being complimented was most certainly going to find himself impaled somewhere. Or just grumpy, really. This was a skill in and of itself, accepting compliments without appearing vain, egotistical, or praise-hungry. It was easy to see that the redhead either needed more lessons at this or was simply not in the mood to be modest. As a designer of sorts, the duty was his to make any woman, or man, look the way they wanted to look or to find a way to raise their self esteem if by a few drops and teaspoons full at a time. The chevalier shrugged at Alaine, finally attempting to be a modest man. Naturally, he botched it the job, saying, "It's just something I know how to do." Normally, the redheaded man was far more polite than this, but the way the woman went about it, well, it could only aggravate his already massively bloated ego.
Raising a fist to his mouth, he cleared his throat in a self-conscious manner. Eying the material on hand, he noted he had far too much sunshine yellow and not nearly enough floral pink to satisfy his needs. A search for ellusive petal soft color would be required if the whole summer dress would be of the color. Yet the gears in his mind whirled and clicked, piecing together a mental picture of the outfit on some nameless mannequin. Strelein fazed out, eyes half glazed over as his concentration wavered. The outfit would be a new project for him, something mightily massive and time consuming. Oh, the prospect of it was enough to make his blood race in the way that a hard and complicated sewing puzzle could do. Perhaps a bodice of a lovely coral color shifting into a butter squash skirt or something equally light for the next few seasons. Winter would not last forever and this woman seemed like she deserved a very pretty garment for the airy spring, the warm summer, and the nippy fall. All the stitches and patterns he would need seemed to flow through his mind's eye, one picture after the other. The issues he saw were decided on how to decorate it once the two parts were joined together into a uniform piece. Though this was probably the least important of his worries. Yes, he would need to go ahead and find a full, or almost full, bolt of cloth for the skirt part. In the very least. A good quality dress could not be made from the modified cloth of blouses.
Finally, the chevalier remembered where he was and whom he was standing with. Sporting a sheepish grin, he ran a hand through his dyed red mane. "Please, I wish you wouldn't call me 'sir' like that. I'm not that old. I'm only two," he said, looking awkward at it. No one else referred to him like that to his very face. Maybe jokingly some would, but none treated the man as though he were truly a gentleman worthy of such a chivalrous mark. At least she too kept some professionalism about her, chiding the male as though he were a naughty pup not listening to his mother. Guilty look aside, Strelein nodded curtly, keeping to the table as support. "That sounds like an amazing idea. I swear, where do you come up with these things?" he joked lightly, trying to go slow enough on his feet that the woman would choose to lead the way. "And as for the dress, I'll be sure to bring it to you - you live here, right? - when I finish it." A twinkle in his eye betrayed his interest in the project. "But I hope that you won't mind my refusing you seeing it until the final fitting, mhm?"