slip stitch with broken strings - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: slip stitch with broken strings (/showthread.php?tid=23601) |
- Caspa Al-Fateh - 12-22-2011 3+ [html]
Outwardly there were no dramatic marks - a broad scabbing split on her bottom lip and florid but fur-covered bruising. Her hunched gait told the story of pain, however the Baroness was determined that she didn't need help nor to let the recent misadventure take over her life that it could so easily have taken away. Lying on her floor waiting for sinew and bone to knit, dwelling on her strategy once healed, was no way to carry on all the time. She remembered the fun she'd been having, days that seemed lifetimes before, meeting Skoll and Charlotte, inventing with Terra, creating their magic show. She'd kept the other wolf's coat afterwards, meaning to make decorative amends to it - by consulting the resident tailor, of course. She had no talent for ornamentation, and she had no excuse to go on avoiding the fact that Strelein was the man for the job. Any avoidance of that fact would have been irrational, and Caspa never allowed for irrationality. She stood gingerly up, one arm crossed across her chest as if holding in the pain and moved to the hallway, taking the coat from where it hung on the door. It was a good coat, a dark aubergine purple and plush and long but a little tattered around the edges. It was wasp-waisted with flamboyant flaring sleeves. She wondered if Terra would prefer it dyed red or brown to match her fiery fur, but thought the purple was a brilliantly magical sort of hue. She held it to her chest and walked gingerly up the corridor, remembering that she and the Dauphin dwelled on the same level. When she came to his workshop, Caspa didn't allow herself a moment's hesitation to reconsider but announced herself with a low woof, "Anybody there?" She had no idea what to call him, having not spoken to the man in a very long time - since before his promotion. They had been on first name terms momentarily, but Caspa guessed she'd probably damaged whatever beginnings of friendship they'd had. table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-01-2012 [html] 527
thank you for your patience <3
Strelein had found a respite from all the problems and burdens of leadership for the day, knowing that he was not needed for business. Things were quiet as winter had come and packs found their meat stores swelling as the herds passed through and game was plentiful. Their own stocks were full and filling. Granted, their times of hunger had, historically, been in the summer, when hunting was harder and the prey much stronger. Yet with all the skills they had acquired over the years of the mutation, they could supply themselves better. Traps, ranged weapons, fishing, and other methods made finding meat an easy thing. The only trouble was the effort needed to set traps or to wait for fish. Regardless, the bolstered stock of meat would do good in the summer and keep them all fed and happy. The pack was small, the numbers lowered as new packs came and took them away. Others left, unsatisfied. Strel was worried, for they were getting to be so few. Hopefully, this winter would bring fresh blood to the kingdom of misfits.
He heard someone speak, and the man ignored it. He had gone upstairs to his store rooms to make alterations to one of his first shirts. Rather, the tailor wanted to rip the shirt apart and use the cloth for another piece of his. He wanted a new vest, and the cloth color of the shirt would be useful in the lining of the vest as well as the side panels. It could always be added to create a wider outfit in case of weight or muscle gain. Not that he would really gain either. His figure was as trim, lithe, as ever and him gaining muscle would be a feat indeed. He rarely ran more than necessary, and whenever he felt the least bit pudgy he would go on a patrol of the interior border of the kingdom. There was plenty of exercise in that and in providing himself a meal.
All of that aside, Strel descended the stairs with his easy grace, old red shirt draped over his arm as he hummed some random tune to himself. The shirt had been gathering dust and he no longer wore it; it was an abomination of sewing and a waste of thread. Thankfully, it had been nothing more than an adapted old shirt rather than a blatant waste of uncut raw cloth.
At the bottom of the stairs, he saw that someone was waiting for him. Strel blinked at Caspa's back, wondering if she was the one calling earlier and if it was he whom she was seeking. "Ah, hello Caspa," he said calmly, standing behind her as she peered into his studio. "Looking for me?" Strel smiled at the woman as he skirted around her and laid the folded shirt over the back of one of the two chairs in the room. He faced her, hands delicately over his hips in a rather feminine manner. "I hope that man, Augustus, found you?" he added with a coy look in his eyes, wondering why that man had been so adamant in keeping her name quiet. .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 01-02-2012 wc: 764 [html] RAMBLE BRAMBLE
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-03-2012 [html] 505
tots fine c: Strel had to admit that he was a rather terrible leader. His efforts to get to know his packmates was limited and his attentions to their persons was wanting. He wanted to get to know them, it was true, but there just seemed so many other things to do. So much got in the way of him knowing everyone as best as he could. But it just did not happen and he found himself at the short end of the stick as people left the pack for better horizons. He ought to become more friendly, and talk more. He ought to go out and seek out the other people living among. Strel could ask them mundane things about their families, how they were doing, what they had done recently, were they feeling alright, did they need anything? He should try harder and he wanted to. But there still seemed to be too much to do. He had clothes to make and patrols to take. Life was busy busy busy and he could do little about it. Still, Strel would take some time to make the effort. Perhaps. The redhead nodded, giving the pale woman an amused smile as he thought of the encounter with the stranger. "Good; he seemed rather bothered by me. I'm not sure why." He laughed loudly, rather proud of the fact that he had unnerved the stranger. Not that he should be so proud of that. What if he scared off the next one to come along. Then what? He would have to let Vigilante do more work and what use would the Dauphin be then? Perhaps a party to get everyone together.. that would make him seem useful and like a good leader. Yes, it was a good idea. "That is noble of you, Caspa. I would have done the same in your situation, and I have done similarly in the past." He quickly rolled his eyes, and sent his gaze to the ceiling. Noss might not have been there but it was entirely toward him. Lavender eyes carefully took in the willowy woman. "They were good intentions and I'm sure he is thankful for your.. attention." Standing proudly before her, hands on hips, the redhead had noticed the thing in her arms but chose not to comment. Strel eyed her as she, rather formally, showed him the coat. His eyes sparkled and he closed the distance. His fingers were visible twitching, wiggling as he smiled at the coat. "Oh, lord, look at that color." He instantly reached out to touch the coat and laughed. "That is really nice." Eyes shining, he locked eyes with the woman. "Can I have it?" But he pulled away with a tinkling laugh, keeping his hands at his sides. "No, no." A head shake and a sigh, he pulled a face as he thought of her request. "It's a lovely color. But is there something else?" Strel shot her a confused look, his brow furrowing and hands resting on his hips. .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 01-04-2012 Words: 651 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-20-2012 [html] 528
I apologize about the length/delay of it. The man gave a playful wobble of the lip, pretending to be hurt. He could, in all honesty, seize the garment, were he of that nature. But he was hardly the sort and it would do nothing for him to do so. Honor and trust were key for a man in his position. Strel would always stand by his integrity in his work. Sure, his moral compass sailed far from due north most of the time, but he was a just businessman and trader. This coat was of a color he adored but he truly knew of no use for it other than seeming bigger than normal, lean as he was for a man of his height. Strel was always one for things that created illusions of a sort, especially in regard to himself. He would have liked to appear bigger, and this coat could have made him seem more mysterious, perhaps. Or he would seem like an elongated dark wine grape. The man's look almost sobered at the mention of Terra, that trickster he had accepted into the kingdom. He did not regret letting her stay, for she added a bit of much needed mischief to the kingdom. They had grown dull lately, and he felt himself to be the cause of it. Shaking off such feelings, the man let his easy look return quickly grinning at the woman. "A magic show, you say? That would be amusing, especially if you truly astounded the Court," he said with a bemused hint to his tone of words. The younger members of the kingdom would truly enjoy such a thing, as any child would love amusements. The tailor carefully listened to her request and nodded along, lavender eyes staring deeply into the dark purple coat as though to see what future lay in store for the poor garment. "You work mostly leather, if I recall, correct?" he inquired of her. Strel let the heavy fabric run though his fingers like a waterfall over rocks, feeling the texture and the weight of it. Brows furrowed in thought, the man recalled the shirts he had found with strange little reflective things on them. Some had silvery tassels and others had tiny beads that glittered in the correct light. Perhaps if mixed with those and brighter threads, the man could give the woman the mood she wanted for the coat. "I think I know what to do, though you'll need to let me know what kind of theme you want. Glitter? Magic? Perhaps sun, stars, and moon like some old wizard?" Taking a deep inhale of air, the redheaded man crossed his arms as he peered up at the pale woman. "I can do something, sure. Though it seems to be a lot of work, and I'm sorry to say I'd have to ask for something in return. However, I guarantee that I'll do my best for your wish for it." Strel's look was truly forlorn, for he did not much like to ask for payment, though often had to. It was not easy what people often wanted and this was a job, not a charity. .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 01-22-2012 Words: 929 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-22-2012 [html] 1020
whoa nelly, you went all out, didn't you Freddy? Lavender hued eyes watched the pale dog woman as she spoke of her partnership with Terra. He himself had his mixed feelings about the other woman, though he was sure that Caspa's intentions were strictly honorable at the moment. While he himself did not have the most moral history, all of that had been long since set aside for what he had to do here in the Kingdom as well as for his mate. He was not necessarily the infidelity type, though he was sure he had helped with that for other people. He had, at the time, never bothered to ask questions, especially if an unknown someone was to be hurt by his own actions. Now, he had no such chance of that. He was sure that the show the two of them planned would be an entertaining spectacle. And it was so sorely needed by the Kingdom. Dull and boring it had become, no longer the time of balls and parties by the shoreline. Perhaps this would be the first event of many that could bring back the life of the Kingdom and create the warm golden glow he remembered from the past. How long had he been here already, he wondered. His mathematical skills were only slightly better than his reading skills; at least he could make alternations in his measurements for his clothing much better than he could write a note to himself. Making only a small noise of recognition, Strel took note of her declaration of her ability. He remembered when he had stumbled upon her nailing her work into the coffee table in the other room and grumbling to herself about the work she was doing. He remembered that meeting fairly well, or perhaps he could not that well anymore; the redhead had always had some level of poor memory retention. But he was sure that he had taken the woman upstairs to his room and his store of alcohol, though he was unsure what happened next. Naturally, it was nothing inappropriate, for he was still there before the woman, alive and well. Noss would have probably skinned him alive for such a thing. Drunk, Strel could still behave properly. If he wanted to, of course. 'I'm sure I'll have something acceptable for you," he said against her delicate work comment, knowing that leather was not the most dainty of materials to work with. Strel nodded at her addendum and revisions to his suggestions. He was not aware of the symbology behind suns, stars, and moons, though he knew they were prevalent in more occult-like workings. Not a believer of anything otherworldly, Strel did what he pleased in what designs he pleased. However, embroider was not particularly a common thing for himself, as it was seen as more of a feminine decoration. While nonplussed about the way people thought of him, he chose to limit how much of a female air his clothing gave off to other people; he was still a man at heart and very much a man in body. Regardless, he had be sure that they had wanted a more mystical aura around the coat of dark purple, though it seemed they wished to astound more than denote an air of the secret occult. Not that it mattered much to Strel; he would do as he was asked to the best of his ability. "A drawing, you say?" he asked, turning his gaze back on the woman and not on the coat. "I have a paper pad and charcoal here if you would like to take it and show me what you think you'd like on here." The Dauphin gestured to the mentioned items atop his clean and orderly table. It was usually cluttered with things: needles, thread, wads of paper, scissors, beads, and all kinds of other things. But now, everything was in it's place. The chain of bobbins on their wires hung from the small dinning room chandelier as well as ragged ribbons with needles stuck into them. The pad of paper was situated near the center of the table, near a small metal bucket of long charcoal sticks. "Though, I have to say, with random swirls and sparkles, it will be so much easier to make mistakes in placement seem like I put them there on purpose," he said with a chuckle, gently touching the table as he rearranged absently some of the materials on it. Sighing, he put them all back into place again. Strel took a seat in the chair by the table and waved his hand for her to take the other situated close to the table so that they might talk business. "How soon do you need this coat done, just so I know exactly how much time I have to work with." His look was serious, albeit rather light despite the importance of his question. Strel worked just fine under pressure though preferred more time to guarantee a better product. Either way, it was as the customer wanted. But what kind of price he wanted to ask of the woman, he was unsure. "Since you're good with leather, I suppose something made of leather," he said, pausing as he thought about what he needed the most in his life right now. A belt perhaps, made out of a darker leather and maybe stained a more cherry hue? No, the Dauphin shook his head at himself, wondering what on earth he could ask for. "Perhaps a small sack I can keep small baubles in. Or even a bigger one for transporting a bottle of two of a brew?" Strel was not sure which would be adequate work for the work he would do, but he also had that nasty habit of asking far too little for a lot of work on his side. Either way, at least he would get something to use himself that was not crafted by his own busy hands. "Or, if you can find some, a bottle or two of any alcohol. Though naturally, I'll still happily take something you've crafted." .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 01-22-2012 Words: 819 [html] got my serious game-face on now! :I Sorry I'm being so long-winded m'dear.
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-22-2012 [html] 1017
You can totally skip the paragraphs with no dialog xD I just wanted to fart out some words xD Once upon a time, Strel had been a young pup aimlessly exploring ruins of human towns. The young pup would wander into these derelict houses and poke through the things that were crumbling all around him. At first, it had been strange things that he found, things without names or an identity in his head. First he found the books, moldy and reeking with age and rot. He left them were they lay, spines broken, pages torn, and turning to a mustard yellow color. They never interested him from the start; they just smelled like too many dried leaves rotting after a heavy autumn fall. Underneath a flat piece of a drywall, the pup found himself a bunch of scratched up yellow pencils. A few had their inner grey cores exposed, broken, or missing. He had fumbled with a small piece between his teeth and managed to scribble on the drywall. It had cracked where he wrote on it and the lead left grey marks on his teeth accompanied with a resoundingly bitter taste on his tongue. He had fumbled through falling houses to find mysterious objects from a race lost to the face of the world. All they had left them were the remains of their long lost lives. That young pup had first bumbled onto the magazines, yellowed with time and moist conditions. They showed the women in crazy outfits, but also in pretty dresses, men in suits, vests, polo shirts, and other things. He found that he liked the way the humans looked, and knew that he could too look like that. He wanted to copy them, those old designers, long since dead and buried - if they had been fortunate enough to receive such a thing. His eyes were caught on shining gold and silver on their necks, wrists, even in their ears. More searches found him the jewelry box, filled with necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings, and things that sparkled in the light. They were untarnished, mostly, as the box kept them out of the sun, wind, and rain. Dragging it, he had managed to hide it away in his pack lands, though soon was discovered. The leader, vain and haughty, ordered the young Strelein to hand over the box and no harm would come to him. After refusing once, the male was beaten lightly and forced to give away the box. Thankfully, he knew that his alpha was a bastard, eager only to look after himself and his get, and had hidden a few things. He still wore that bangle on his wrist, and remembered why he never returned home, where two legs were the devil's get and his talents would be seen as a gift from hell acquired in an orgy of sin. Pulled away from his memories, both good and bad, Strel looked at Caspa lightly. He smiled lightly at the woman, waving away her subtle compliments. "Perhaps the randomness itself will make it an artful work? Since it should be random. Isn't magic creating something from the randomness of life?" he said gently, wondering what kind of magic tricks these two people would make. Would they pull things out of thin air or would they make things disappear? Strel did not understand the occult or the divine. They were unknowns to him and it was better off that way. There were those out there who put all of their life's work into their beliefs. What a waste of time and life, especially when their lives were so short to begin with. Who would do such a thing? In Toronto, the Dauphin had encountered many people of various beliefs. There were a few pagans who believed in the all mighty earth mother who controlled every living thing and was the guiding light for them. They were mostly spiritual and devoted to the preservation of the earth, and very respectful the creatures they killed for their meat. Some did not even eat meat unless they were there for the kill and it was properly thanked for its sacrifice. Others were devout of old human religions, like the ones that came from Europe on the great boats salvaged by the canines there. Others still took on stranger religions that made no sense, following a cult leader. Some, like Strel, did not believe either and disregarded the stories of their ancestors. Strel's loss of religious care came only from his dislike for his pack, which praised the stories of old. He remembered them still, but disregarded them entirely. "Not enough?" he asked in surprise, wondering what on earth she thought would be an adequate price to pay for this sort of thing. "I would hardly feel in the right asking for more. I was worried I'd be asking too much." He looked at her with a level or surprise and respect, marveling at this woman's sense of fairness. Often, he knew he was asking for far too little when more ought to be given, despite wanting to ask for more. But now he was unsure of what to ask for, especially since Caspa seemed terribly set on making the payment fair. "Really, I'd be fine with just the sacks. Really. " Caspa finished the drawing and the male looked at it as she hefted it up. Narrowing his eyes briefly, he imagined the coat with so many pockets and he could hardly believe it. Though, the coat was definitely something big and hefty. "I think if I had to sew through the entire coat it'd be fine. Though if I can avoid sewing through it I will. It will decrease cloth puckering," He had made that mistake once, though now knew quite better. "But it should be okay." Turning around, he pulled out a small wooden box. The joint creaked as the lid opened, though inside were many sheared off sequins as well as smaller glass beads. Setting it on the table, he gestured at it for Caspa. "These are some things I tore off old clothes, as well as found. I think it'll work, yes?" .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 01-24-2012 Words: 1241 [html] They were good paragraphs x) I've done it too though, so all you really need to look at is the speech o___o.
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-24-2012 [html] 578
I wish to slap you for your length because I read it all and groaned. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY. Strel furrowed his brows and nodded along with puckered lips. Modestly, he shrugged, though a cocky grin slipped onto his lips. "I'm sure I've got enough skill for a spiral or two," he said with a chuckle. There was, perhaps, one or two modest bones in the gaudy man's body, though anyone looking for them was hard pressed to figure out which one it was. They had to be tiny bones, for his ego was enormous. It was bigger than his head and was like a balloon of pride. Once in the past, he had been far more modest in his makings. But the moment he passed from apprentice to skilled, he dropped the pretense and acted with a level of pride and bragging was included. Granted, he had had no right to act that way at first, but now he had nothing but pride in his head. Mated and with a successful job, on top of high rank, he was definitely in a very happy place. While his studio had some of his better example, his upstairs closet was significantly better. It was filled with so many clothes ranging from women's skirts to a pair or two of extra jeans. Noss did not use his clothing, namely because the man preferred to go without more often, though he had been a mannequin often enough. There were pilfered shelves from Halifax made of wood with room for folded and hanging clothes. His bolts of cloth were up there as well, against the wall. A table had been set up there for sewing as well as use as a familial dinning table. Thankfully, they ate there infrequently and often cleaned quickly so there was little chance of damage to his precious, precious clothes. It was both a closet and a storage room for all his personal things. Noss had plenty of store room in the main bedroom, where the old human bathroom walls had been removed and the facilities removed and wooden boards was placed over the area to create more storage space. The redhead snapped back to reality again, wondering why his mind was wandering so much at the moment. "I figure just using those light ones, so they can capture light better and not create a vomit of rainbows," he confessed crudely, shrugging as he looked at the sketch again. The lines were rough and there smudges where the woman's fingers touched the paper after being coated in charcoal dust. Forgetting himself, the Dauphin grabbed himself the moist rag in a small plastic tub and handed it to the woman so she might clean off her fingers. "Red?" he mused, smiling slightly at the mention of the color. Red was one of his favorite colors, as was obvious in the hairstyle he always had. Henna dyed red hair was his distinct calling card and he flaunted the color often. It was his favorite and that was the way it was. But it may not have had a place here. "No.. I don't think so. I think perhaps white and gold colors instead? Red is a bit strange with this coat color being purple. If it was black, perhaps, but not with this," he said, shaking his head slightly. Pulling a red thread from the hooks, he placed the bobbin against the coat. It was alright but he could not see it working. "I don't think so.. what do you think?" .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 01-24-2012 Words: 547 [html] LMAO at "The redhead snapped back to reality again, wondering why his mind was wandering so much at the moment." xDD I can make Caspa do a tap dance or jump out the window and then we will have something to actually write about perhaps O_O Or... hmm, lemme see. -starts typing-
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-24-2012 [html] 597
I lol so hard xD It did look strange, didn't it? Strel eyed the color side by side and kept thinking. They didn't look bad but it was far too muted to work well together in the manor that Caspa wanted it to work in. A ripping sound caught his attention and the woman put a white piece of paper against the coat, beside the thread bobbin. Strel compared the colors together and had to admit he had been in the right. The red was going to be far too subtle against such a background. It was not dark enough and was tinted so it would was too muted, far too muted. The lighter white, kind of yellow, paper stood out sharply in relief to the purple coat. It was a lovely color and the tailor had other shades of yellow and white to use. The thread would make the design but the sequins and beads would do the eye catching. The sharp contrast would stand out and look lovely on the coat of purple. Yes, it would work! He had not even noticed the dark smudges appearing on his lighter fingers, so engrossed was he in creative thought. Strel blinked absently at the woman as she apologized, mildly confused about what she was saying. It took him a moment to realize she was scrambling to clean off his hand from the marks made, though they somehow seemed to be getting even bigger and darker. "Oh.. that's alright," he said absently, wondering why she was halfway to panicking over a few little smudges. He got them all the time when he worked with charcoal and dyes. His lavender eyes watched the spectacle over his hand, amusement filtering into his look. It was rather entertaining to see her fumble with this, especially since it was obvious that the smudge was not going anywhere. It grew on his hand, and he thankfully moved it away from the coat. Peering up, the Dauphin suddenly pulled his hand away from Caspa's ministrations and started laughing. Laugh almost sputtering as he tried holding it back, Strel pantomimed pointing at his chin, though he was sure the motion was lost among his twitches on account of the laughter. Snorting, and somehow getting the laughter mildly under control, he rummaged out a small hand held mirror. Shoving it in her face, he stuffed the mirror into her hands as he started laughing again. It was not as strong as before, though he was having a hard time stopping. When was the last time he had laughed so hard over something so terribly silly? Laughter slowing, Strelein took the rag out of Caspa's hands and hung it before him. He snorted again as he saw the thick lines of charcoal on the rag. A glance at the drawing told him that it was ruined beyond repair and that the rag was now grey from residue. "Oh, lord, Caspa..," he said, voice full of laughter. He took the rag to the small tub and rubbed it in the water almost futilely. It was not coming off so well; a stronger wash was going to be needed but it was certainly useless now. "I think we need a new rag..," he said, almost sounding blank as he said it. Squeezing it out, he showed it to the white woman; it was now a much more grey color than before and the water in the tiny tub swirled black. "And your pelt is white," he said, grimacing, though all in good humor as he chuckled at the woman. .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 01-26-2012 Words: 762 [html]
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-26-2012 [html] 503
I am so museless but must post ffff dilemmas dilemmas There was no laughter from the other woman, and the man slowed his own. It was a bit daunting, the way it was so hard to get Caspa to laugh. Strangely, he wondered if he had offended by offering her the mirror. She had a scar on her face, sure, but the redhead rarely took such sights in anymore nor did he give them much thought or care. She was certainly difficult, not in manner and demeanor, but in actually attempting to make friends with her. She seemed so resistant to anything of the sort and it left the tailor feeling shunned and, quite frankly, incompetent. His feelings on the matter would fade quickly after the two of them parted, but he was so very curious as to why she was so resistant to his attempts at casual friendliness. He wasn't that offensive, was he? No, Strel's mouth might run away with him - though less now that he was the Dauphin and had to be a mediator more often - he doubted he had said anything offensive to Caspa yet. The talk returned to the coat and the Dauphin gave a resigned sigh. So, if that was what the woman wanted, let it be. "Perhaps. I'll see what I can do with tester swatches, though I'm sure it'll turn out fine if we leave that mark there. It'd wash out in rain but I'm sure Terra won't wear it outside." The young woman seemed to dislike clothes in general so he was sure she would only use it as a costume. What a waste but the embellishments would make it too gaudy for regular use. "Of course. Leave it to me. It is my job, after all," he added with all seriousness. Whatever playfulness he had before faded back into his easy-going mannerisms. Though he took a note to behave seriously with Caspa as she did not seem to like the way he behaved with her. He treated everyone as a friend as best as he could, especially his subordinates. A large amount of decoration would go into the making of this coat. Thankfully there was little to do other than sewing in the large amounts of pockets and then the decorations of beads and sequins. It would definitely not take a day, though he was sure he could do it in such a span if he was so hard pressed. Caspa seriously asked him just how long it would take him and the redheaded tailor stared at the coat silently for a moment. Honestly, he could do it in a day, but wanted more time so that he wouldn't bore himself and leave room for his duties. A week would suffice but there was a time limit at hand. Lavender eyes gravely looked at the white woman as he said, "When is the show?" It all depended on that for they would need at least one practice with the coat before they performed. .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 01-26-2012 Words: 482 [html] OOC: She doesn't know but I do... the show will be about the 7th of February at the festival. It would be lovely if it could be finished by then =] Caspa isn't going to know when she's doing it until about a day beforehand, so if you think it would take longer we could have a thread where she has to rush over and ask for the coat early/take it not-quite-finished. But that might be awkward... although I suppose that might also be okay. o_O Anything you like is fine by mee <3
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-26-2012 [html] 414
He should finish. I'll probably post a RO of him working on it (just to crap out more words xD). We could have the thread around the start of february (aka around like Feb 4ish) to give her it? Strel gave her a curt nod, tapping long fingers on the table as he thought about the project under his nose. It was not an easy project, but it wasn't the hardest. The most difficult task he had been asked to undertake was where a man from Cercatori D'Arte had come to ask for a tuxedo for a wedding. It had been hard, and then the man had run out on his wedding, and the tuxedo. Strel still had the half-finished garment in his storage room, though it was gathering dust for lack of use. He didn't need it and no one else had so far been crazy enough to request something like that. If anyone did, though, he had one ready to go. Though, most would definitely require a tailoring session, or two, and a lot of cutting just to get it to fit. Shawchert had been a tall man and rather broad, taller than most Strelein had seen in his lifetime. Hopefully no one bigger came along. The redhead could almost shudder at the thought of a man taller and broader than Shawchert, who already towered over the Dauphin -- he wasn't even that short of a man, over seven feet as he was. "It shouldn't take that long. It's just sewing on pockets and decoration," he said quietly, wondering why Caspa preferred to maintain a business facade with him. He was not that offensive, right? Regardless, Strel did not and would not press her for it unless it truly started to bother him. Likely as it was to bother him and weigh him down a bit, he knew that he could go elsewhere for consolation on the subject. "Yes, by all means, leave it here. I'll get it done as soon as I can." He waved a hand toward the empty makeshift mannequins with a light flourish, then sighed. "I have little going on, so it won't take too long. Hopefully." He was not yet sure just how much time and effort would have to be spent on the coat. Strel preferred not a lot though if it required most of his time, he would give it. He had promised to work on the coat and work on it he would. He leaned against the table, hand supporting him even as the table creaked in protest. "Make sure to let me know when the show is, though," he added with a light smile. .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] - Caspa Al-Fateh - 01-26-2012 Words: 579 [html] OOC: lol I forgot to say that I mentioned somewhere else she traded a bottle of wine and left it outside his door some time late January, although she will be hunting for better stuff at the festival as it was quite weak the idea was 'just to keep him going', haha. You could put it in the read-only if you wanted? And yep any time around the 4th is good for me
table image credit to Burksy@flickr [/html]
- Strelein von Rosnete - 01-26-2012 [html] 405
ooh okay i'll be sure to include that then it is a weird posting date! Caspa gave him a bow, and the Dauphin merely nodded his head slightly in return. Red curls bobbed slightly with the motion. He was unsure why she made such an elaborate gesture of gratitude, when a smile and a thank you was more than he needed. Though, the brightly attired man did smile extravagantly at the woman when she consented. He was glad that, formal as she was, she was still giving him an invitation to their magic show. Why shouldn't he get one? He was helping with the costume work, of course he ought to go. Why should he not? "Thank you," he said evenly, smile weakening, though he could hardly keep it off his face. It was just unnatural for him to be moody and depressed - okay, a lie but it was uncommon now when he had little to be sulking over. Things were going his way for once and he could hardly believe it himself. There was nothing to grumble about, nothing bad, and everything was going well. Strel was a happy man and he refused to think of a future without the easy contentment he felt now. Chuckling, the Dauphin assured her gently, "Of course I'll hide it. I won't spoil it for her. I know she'll like it. She'll be happy you thought of her so well." There was some level of wisdom in his head, young as he was, and old as he was. Strel was no young man anymore. He was still in his prime, but his wild ruckus days were behind him, much to many people's relief. How long had it taken him to settle down properly? Too long. It had been a year, two years, of struggling to settle down with the right man, who took forever to come along, he would add. For now, he was set on becoming the Dauphin with all the pomp and wisdom he'd need, even if most of it was on what not to drink and how much not to drink. He waved her away as she started to leave, wondering why she was in such a hurry to escape him. Strel listened to her rush back to her room with a chuckle as he picked up the sopping wet piece of sketch paper. It dripped slightly, and the redhead simply tossed it behind him into a plastic bucket with a slapping sound. .strel-txt {font-family: garamond, georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; word-spacing:1px; margin:0px 25px auto; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px auto; width:500px; text-align:justify;} .strel-txt .inner {background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/GEuNG.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border: 0px solid #000; padding 0px 0px 10px 0px; } .strel-txt .ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto; width:500px;} .strel-txt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding: 0px 5px 0px 0px;} .strel-txt b {letter-spacing:1px; letter-spacing:-.05em;text-shadow:#fff 0px 0px 1px;font-family:verdana, garamond, serif; font-size:12px;} .strel-txt .line {width:150px; border-bottom:1px dashed #000; margin:0 auto;} </style> [/html] |