Keep Movin' In Forward Motion

Tanner Occupation

POSTED: Mon Jul 01, 2019 3:14 pm

OOC: AW for one. Tanner occupation thread. "Start the process of tanning; skin, prepare treatment mixtures of fat or brain, and flesh the hide to get it ready!" WC: +2

IC: The scent of fat, meat and brain was heavy on the summer air. It carried far from the little makeshift camp of Zsorthia's in the forest near the lake as she worked with multiple frames of wood with different pelts and leathers stretched over them all around her teepee. It wasn't the prettiest of jobs, but it was her job. She alone seemed to have the skillset required for tanning to this extent. The Mercedes woman had at first despised the idea of returning to the work that she had done as a yearling. But as she came to realize how valued her work was around Del Cenere and how much The Ashen really appreciated her for it, the praise had gone to her head and now to her heart and she was throwing her all into the projects she'd been given. As well as those she'd assigned herself.

Today she was working on her knees arms deep in a shallow tub of brain and animal fat. She needed the mixtures for treating the freshly scraped and fleshed elk hide she was working with for Auger. These would be his new pair of pants. There was also a set of drying, treated leather arm bracers awaiting their final treatment hanging over a small, but very hot fire she'd been keeping an eye on. The heat treatment ensured the leather remained pliable but firm. She'd dunk them in water after this so they'd maintain their form and expand slightly. She hoped Auger would liked them and they'd serve their purpose. Mixing the brain about in the tub, the woman realized then that she'd actually come pretty far since she'd left her homelands. Even though the action of prepping animal leftovers was like being back home, she had to remind herself, she'd actually just passed her fourth birthday amidst all the insanity she and her now pack mates had faced from the wolves.

Smirking to herself and retrieving a single arm free from the smelly mixture, the red woman, shook out her hair from her vision before reaching a still dripping hand from the flask at her hip and took a big, celebratory swig of whiskey from it. She didn't mind the stink in her nose nor the fiery burn down her throat. Returning the flask to her hip she chuckled dryly. "Happy belated birthday to me...I'll need to properly celebrate later." She muttered and pulled her other arm free, drying both of them and her flask with a rough bit of fabric before replacing it on the tree branch she got it from. Leaving the brain mix to set the coydog went to check on her elk leather, testing it with a little pressure of her paw against it, flicking her tail. It would be ready shortly. Her first real project since Del Cenere's foundation. This would be the real test of her skills and her loyalty. She would not fail.
Last edited by Zsorthia Mercedes on Mon Sep 02, 2019 6:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Sun Jul 07, 2019 12:33 pm

In the early days of her pregnancy, back before she was certain of her condition, the tanning solution that wafted up around camp would have made her violently ill. But now, by some inexplicable and mildly disturbing miracle, the putrid aromas made Evelyn feel oddly ravenous. That wasn't to say she had any desire to eat the slurry of brains, urine, and fat, nor would she ever admit to a single living soul the response her stomach was having to the stink, but there was no controlling what pregnancy made her body do.

She had not wanted to seek the maker of the smells out, but Vegas – the habitual escape artist that she was – had come by this way and Evelyn, with help from Paninya and Ronald, was tracking her with the purpose of taking her back to her corral. With the other two pursuing different potential tracks, Evelyn stepped into Zsorthia's tanning workshop on her own just as the coydog was returning her flask to her hip. "You seen a dapple mare come through this way?" she asked, eyeing the woman impassively.

But Evelyn doubted that the mare would have passed by, not with the stink of death so strong. Watching as red woman tended to an elk hide, the Vicar gestured to her flask with a small nod. "That help mind th' smell?" she asked. "What's your poison?"

OOC: Hellooo!

[WC — 233]


Del Cenere Gang
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Little Bandit They stole my dirty socks... :( Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Tue Jul 09, 2019 8:40 pm

OOC: Heyyyy! <3 Zsorthia doesn't know Evelyn is pregnant btw. She hasn't heard the news. WC: +2

IC: The red coydog was aware of how far and wide the stench of her tanning mixtures could travel. The brines were made up of some of the most unpleasant bits of leftover kills and some other secrets from the trade that Zsorthia had learned growing up. There was really nothing she could do to mask the scent. All she could do was try to be as mindful as possible to her fellow pack mates and keep her workshop far from the main bustling trade center of Charmingtown where most of The Ashen were putting in most their time these days restoring the old crumbling town. Sure, the Mercedes woman had put in time there herself between her tanning work. But at this phase of the project, her skills weren't particularly of use. Her muscle was the only thing she could really contribute and there was plenty of that to go around.

"You seen a dapple mare come through this way?" Zsorthia's ears flicked and she turned towards the sound of the sudden voice. She hadn't smelled the other woman's approach for obvious reasons. The only living animal she knew of that was in the area was her own horse, Whiskey Jack. The red roan stallion was tied to a makeshift hitching post by the old shack of a building Zsorthia was using for a temporary shelter while she worked on her hides. It was by no means her home, she had her teepee for that, but maybe, just maybe one day it could become her home. Who knew? Glancing around, Zsorthia shook her head as her company approached. "Nah. Not through here. Only equine I've seen is my boy." She said with a gesture to the stallion.

Zsorthia recognized her guest as Evelyn. She had been one of many of the others whom had fought the wolves alongside her. Although the red woman didn't know much about the shroud wearing yote, what she did know was this woman was responsible for making some of the best booze in the area according to rumor. As if on cue, Evelyn pointed then to the flask half empty at Zsorthia's side. "That help mind th' smell? What's your poison?" Zsorthia chuckled and lifted the flask and turned it over in her palm, the liquid sloshing within. "Whiskey. And it definitely helps. Keeps me from thinkin' too much and stay focused on my work too." She said and gave a wry smile. "I hear you're the one to come to should I ever wish to ah...try somethin' new?" She grinned, tail swishing and moved to check on a tub of fat and brain mixture that was soaking a beaver pelt in it. Wrinkling her nose she swished some flies out of her face and glanced over at Evelyn. "I'd be willing to make ya something in exchange for a batch of your latest?" She offered hopefully, raising an eyebrow.
Last edited by Zsorthia Mercedes on Mon Sep 02, 2019 6:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Fri Jul 26, 2019 4:20 pm

With a flick of her eyes, the sunlight catching and flashing fire in the gleam of the living one, Evelyn followed the red woman's gesture and considered the hitched stallion without a change to her impassive face. Poor creature, she thought as she returned her gaze to the woman again. She wasn't sure she would wish having to deal with such a pungent stench on a regular basis on her worst enemies.

The Vicar dipped her nose in acknowledgement of Zsorthia's response. "Shame," she replied flatly. But she wasn't surprised. Vegas was likely to avoid this area as though her very life depended on it because, if these aromas were any indication, her very life might just have been on the line if she didn't.

Watching as the red woman turned the flask over in her palm, Evelyn considered disengaging herself from the conversation prematurely. But if talk of horses – specifically, talk of the horse in question – was not viable, then talk of alcohol was perhaps one of the only other things that the fire-kissed coyote was truly interested in. So she remained, though she offered no outward evidence of her interest. "That's right," she confirmed confidently.

Instinctively, she wrinkled her scarred nose delicately as Zsorthia checked on her tub of terrible smells. But when the woman made an offer, Evelyn's lips curled subtly. Now this was more to her liking.

She was quiet for a long while, her ruined face and mismatched eyes considering the red woman and her offer without emotion. "Hn." And then, with a mild twisting upwards of her lips: "Is that so?" she asked dully. "Well then." Evelyn glanced around her, searching for a finished piece that Zsorthia could show her before returning her eyes on on the red woman herself. "Show me what you're worth."

OOC: No worries! <3 And sorry for the wait! D:

[WC — 310]


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Little Bandit They stole my dirty socks... :( Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Mon Aug 12, 2019 5:10 pm

OOC: <333 WC: +2

IC: The red coydog knew Evelyn was a tough broad to crack. She was hard to read and even harder to get to talk. But if the Mercedes woman knew one sure fire language they both could speak, that was alcohol. Since she could be of no use when it came to the other woman's horse, she figured why not bring up the one subject they both had mighty in common. Although she'd never admit it to her face, Zsorthia actually admired the copper eyed woman. Ever since their fighting side by side while not yet Del Cenere Gang against the band of wolves, she couldn't help but find a sense of silent awe in the steadfast, hardy and determined Escuella female. She was a force to be reckoned with, and Zsorthia aspired to be some fierce some and assured of herself.

"Show me what you're worth." Smirking a little as she gained the full attention of Eveyln (as much as she could guess based on the mostly stony expression that ever lingered on the woman's visage) at the mention of a trade Zsorthia flicked her head in the direction of the half run down cabin behind her. "Right this way." She grinned and turned away from the tub of brains, leading the hardened woman towards the far end of the cabin. Coming around the side of the rickety building, once there she pulled a large worn piece of hide off a neatly organized pile of finished goods. It wasn't much, but what she had there was some of her best works to date. What she had left anyways after all her travels and trade before becoming part of The Ashen.

Among the miscellaneous completed works was a heavy fur shawl, a quiver for arrows adorned with feathers and bone accents, a simple leather skirt and tatter fringe leather top outfit, and the biggest ticket item, a fully finished saddle bag with a simple tooled pattern on the front. Gesturing to her "loot" the Mercedes woman stepped back to allow Eveyln to examine what she had. "I'm in the midst of making some pants and bracers for Auger. I can do a custom order if ya don't find anything here to your fancy." She said shrugging, but closely watching the other woman's face to see if anything was of interest to her.
Last edited by Zsorthia Mercedes on Mon Sep 02, 2019 6:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Tue Aug 20, 2019 11:23 am

With a final glance at the tub of terror, wherein held the mystery mash that the red woman used to tan hides, Evelyn followed Zsorthia toward the tired old cabin that the Vicar assumed she had chosen to reside in. She watched silently as the red coyote lifted a sizable stretch of hide to reveal a modest pile of completed projects. Regarding the pile impassively, Evelyn waited for her fellow Ashen to peddle her products with all the shameless wordcraft of an experienced saleswoman.

Instead, the woman stepped aside and gestured for Evelyn to take a look herself. Hard eyes considered Zsorthia a beat longer than what might be considered "normal" before, with fluid movements, the fire-kissed coyote turned and stepped up to the neat little pile. What trade tactics worked for some didn't work so well for others. And besides that, knowing your target audience was equally as important as the tactic itself.

Still, Evelyn would have preferred it if the would-be tanner had put more work into selling herself.

Keeping her opinions to herself, the Vicar browsed Zsorthia's completed works without emotion. Whatever her earlier thoughts, she was impressed with the woman's craftsmanship. The fur shawl was appealing, particularly for when the weather turned again, but it was the saddle bag that caught her eye and refused to give it back. She reached out toward it and rubbed the tooled patter with her thumb. "What's your price for somethin' of this quality?" she asked, turning to look at the woman.

OOC: Lol sorry sorry Evelyn's a tough, opinionated lady :')

[WC — 258]


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Little Bandit They stole my dirty socks... :( Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Mon Aug 26, 2019 4:04 pm

OOC: I know she is. <3 And Zsorthia knows she is, doesn't care to try and truly impress her at this time at least, LOL! XD WC: +2

IC: To the Mercedes woman, it was a casual offering between pack mates. And although Evelyn was known to be one of the silvertongue and of harsh scrutiny of others at times, Zsorthia wasn't trying to impress her with her words, but rather with her craftsmanship. As she revealed the small pile of goods she'd completed, the red woman didn't miss the side eyed glance the tan woman gave her before stooping to get a closer look at the items lain out before her to investigate.

Zsorthia had to keep a small annoyed curling of her lips at the glance, but instead, simply rolled her shoulders and shook out her hair allowing Evelyn to judge her handwork. She remained silent in her contemplation, making the masked woman slightly anxious to hear a verdict. But after a few tense moments Eveyln reached forward towards the saddle bag, bringing a proud smile to the red coydog's face. That bag was one of her finest works for sure. "What's your price for somethin' of this quality?" The fire kissed woman asked and Zsorthia clucked her tongue thinking what would be fair. It had taken her many tries to get the pattern of the bag right, and then another good while to tool in the design on the leather. "Hmm. Would three jugs of your 'shine be fair to ya? That there is one of my best works and the one that took me the longest to make." She'd seen the kind of larger containers John and Twelve had been lugging around with Eveyln's famous brew in it and was itching to get her paws on some of her own. Her small flask of whiskey just wasn't cutting it anymore. The red woman crossed her arms and waited for her trade partner's response.
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POSTED: Mon Sep 02, 2019 11:05 am

Evelyn watched the red woman's face as she considered her question. She imagined that she could almost see the gears within Zsorthia's head turning. What was the worth of someone's time? Of their expertise and their labor? How does one compare the time, labor, and expertise of one trade with that of another? The Vicar had contemplated these questions countless times before, in myriad other barters and transaction.

And she did so now, again, when the bandit-masked coyote made her offer.

The Vicar held a measured look of consideration over Zsorthia's face before she glanced back down at the leather saddle bag, running her bandaged fingers against the smooth leather surface; over the ridges of stitching; along the tooled designs. She was no leatherworker, but Evelyn knew quality tack when she saw it and she recognized the amount of time it took to make. Shaping and stitching scraps of leather into something like this, which, if treated well, could last years, was well worth three jugs of moonshine.

"This here is fine work," she said at last, looking back up at Zsorthia another beat before she held out a bandaged hand. "I do reckon three jugs of moonshine sounds a fair deal to me in exchange." Once they shook on it, Evelyn would insist that the red woman keep the saddle bag here until such a time as she could bring the 'shine to her. There were plenty of times when the Vicar had been less-than-honest in her dealings, but she had rules and never would she do a packmate wrong.

OOC: <333 If you've got enough for your co-rank, we could probably wrap up with your next post. c:

[WC — 268]


Del Cenere Gang
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Little Bandit They stole my dirty socks... :( Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Mon Sep 02, 2019 6:37 pm

OOC: This post makes me set, yep! Thanks for helping me with this. :D Hope the last little PP at the end there is okay! WC: +2

IC: It was indeed difficult to put value to someone else's time and effort. Their skill. But Zsorthia was not by any means new to the art of Tanning so she did know her worth, to some extent. As she improved and perfected her craft and learned what kinds of goods she created caught the eyes of her customers, she would only learn more of her worth and what she could and should charge for her work.

As it stood, she didn't know much about what Evelyn had to go through for her own craft, so she had taken a gamble on three jugs of moonshine. Masked golden eyes watched the other coyote's bandaged face as she once more examined the carefully designed leather, the tightly woven thread, the formed leather under her fingers. She knew she'd definitely made something worthwhile here. And for Eveyln to be so entranced by it's workmanship made the red coydog feel a small sense of pride. "This here is fine work." When Evelyn finally looked up and held out a paw, Zsorthia grinned broadly at the compliment, ears momentarily folding in acknowledgement of the high praise. "I do reckon three jugs of moonshine sounds a fair deal to me in exchange."

The Mercedes woman's heart leaped happily and she held out a dark paw and grasped her pack mate's own firmly, shaking it to seal the deal. "Deal." She wagged her tail a few times. And with that the two women finalized the little details of their arrangements. On a whim, it so happened the horse Evelyn had been after was spotted in the distance and it was then that the two Ashen parted ways.
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