1663/Shopping at Marette's

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Shopping at Marette's
Date of Scene: 25 February 2015
Location: Hydaelyn <HD>
Synopsis: Shoe shopping day turns out to be a very dangerous day!
Cast of Characters: 640, 708


Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
It has been several days past and the memory of her flamboyant visitor and his little stunt has acquired a distinctly unreal quality, the event hazy for one sore eyed elezen. Pricked thumbs, pained wrists and hours poring over metal hammered thin and couched by the finickety fingers drains a person.
Hers reason in short why she barely pauses in her rhymthic shuttle of the silver needle listening to the rowdy noise outside this late evening. For where she lives, the growing darkness provides succor from endless, suffocating heat packed by those preoccupied in daily work. The hour to let loose and indulge in the delights and distractons no upstanding 'daywalker' would fae contemplate.

Echo (640) has posed:
     There is a sound at the door and in steps what? But a Bat! In this case, it's an anthropomorphic one, wearing a low-necked black dress and white furred, curiously. She seems to peruse the contents of the store before continuing in, a pair of simple leather sandals on her feet. Probably wore something a bit more practical considering the streets in medieval places are like cobble stone lined islands among the gutters and mud.

     She doesn't call out to ask if there is anyone there, simply reaches up to adjust her long black hair and those white wings on her back rustle softly, she seems... quaintly amused with the place.

Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
Sharp ears pick up the faint shirring of feathers as they disturb the dust collecting in the shop, soon to be concealed under a cowl as she stands, ready to dab powder hastily across her cheeks, in order to assume the pink flush and lessen the stark whiteness that is her face. Disguised thus, she slips out from behind the door left ajar, feet arched and toes pressed light against the damp infested boards.

Hands tucked unobtrusively away in voluminous sleeves, she approaches the counter where an entirely ordinary mop is leant at an angle. Completely, utterly unremarkable save perhaps the rather curious markings that score its length, or the fact it appears to be propped scraggly modhead pointed ceilingward.

"May I assist you, madam?" Voice crisp, carefully enuciated. A consummate merchant, the candence pitched as though they were situated in an upper crust establishment and not a place even the rats might disdain as unkempt.

Echo (640) has posed:
     "This place, it's dark, dusty, I think I can hear the termites feasting on the very floorboards--it's so darling!" Echo cupped her hands agaisnt her breast, looking delighted. As for the bat's toes, her feet were quite humanoid, though those nails of hers were red and a bit pointed. She barely seems to have noticed Selaine speak up until a few moments after the duskwight does, finally looking over in her direction as if her attention was drawn toward it absently.

     "Hello there! This is a tailoring business, mmyes? I was wondering if you were in the business of... shoes," she stepped closer, the long skirts of her black dress fluttering. "I was hoping to look over your stock and try a few on, if possible."

Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
"I...I have a few basic shoes, madam." Selaine murmurs, eyesight penetrating the growing gloom to fully digest the uniquely batlike creature outlined in what scant light her hanging lamps radiate. Their gutted glow more to highlight than provide real, substantial illumination.

Either way, the shopkeeper seems to be unhindered by the lacking light and daintily edges her way round both counter and bat to rummage amongst the piled wares with an absent flick of her wrist to counter the hair threatening to obsure her vision entirely. "Alright...what type of material is your preference, madam? We own a pair of silk slippers in fetching red, open toe...with a few adjustments, it could be made eligible for wear."

Echo (640) has posed:
     "Quite fond of leather, or that strange vinyl the humans from outer realms seem to fancy..." Echo turned her yellow, slit-pupiled eyes to bear on the duskwight, blinking a little as she scrutinized her face. "Adjustments? my feet don't look too strange to you?" she reached down and very easily those white-furred batty feet were slipped out of the sandals, seeming to not mind walking barefoot in the shop. Indeed, they seemed formed quite like a human's, well, despite the pinkish pawpads under the bottoms of the feet and the toes.

     "Tell me more about these silk slippers, I assume you mean something with a heel to them?" she looked around for someplace to sit, and would likely flop down there, keeping her sandals in one hand, two fingers hooked around the straps.

Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
Thankfully for the comfort of would be customers, there is what upon inspection appears to be one working seat in order, its sage green cover frayed and balding. If one overlooks the odd spring poking it, the chair is almost presentable in the current light.

Having squinted and murmured a few inaudible remarks that sound vaguely approving, the equal scrutiny of the duskwight for Echo's feet creases her unlined forehead.

Dropping gracefully to the floor, shoes dangling from one hand, the duskwight kneels to gently encircle thumb and forefinger round her customers ankle, touch brief and impersonal.

"About an inch or two, madam. A slight uplift that does not leave the amateur tottering helplessly." Faint amusement punctures Selaines sales patter, as her hands push and bend the foot into position for the shoe itself, slid discreetly under the uplifted right foot, held lightly in place by those fingers that are surprisingly soft for a tailors. No calloused tips for this one.

Echo (640) has posed:
     Echo just goes and has herself a seat right there, bare feet out in front of her and all. She wasn't especially tall, so she was even shorter and more petite looking while sitting down. As the girl gets down and grasps her ankle, Echo reaches down and brushes a finger across the girl's forehead. Her finger comes away and she rubs at it, brows crinkled just a bit.

     "I'm quite not the amateur, but, hmm," she seems to change her mind part-way through the sentence as she feels and notices the look of those red slippers. "Not bad, not bad at all, I think I shall wait to see how these look, and feel..." she rubbed her chin just a bit, then looked down at the elfen girl. "You have marvelous hands by the way, m'dear," oh boy.

Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
Selaine Marette simply nods, absorbed in her work fitting foot to shoe and the gentle squeeze as she determines whether the limb is throttled by its confinement or as is with the fitted shoe can wriggle enough to maintain healthy circulation. Registering not the endearment nor the light swipe of her powdered face that leaves a smear of bone white like an old scar marring the illusion of a ruddy cheeked human.

As for the slippers themselves, the design is basic, the heel more wedge than finely pointed stiletto fluted to curve inward and covered in the sinous silk scarlet. Embroidered in blossoming pink is curling petals, each one executed with an eye for detail.

Scraping her own clumsily shod boots against the boards, the girl shuffles back, still knelt so her height advantage is not immediately noticable versus the petite Echo.

Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
"Thank you madam." Selaine belatedly appends dipping her head to display what is indicated by the open gesue to be humility, though her voice belies thi claim by retaining its faintly imperious hauteur all throughout the formalities.

Echo (640) has posed:
     "Why do you wear this... makeup to cover the pale skin that you have?" Echo asks, as if as an afterthought, though the bat is already rising to test how the shoes look and feel, after the duskwight has so graciously helped fit her into them. She holds her hands off to the side, ehr wings almost stretching outward as if by instinct. She seems to fancy them, looking at them from different angles--but does seem to notice the fact the straps are untied, gasp!

     "If you would please, I am the sorceress Echo, by the way, what do they call you, pink-skinned masquerader?" she gestured with one foot, as if motioning for the girl to assist her with that, heh heh.

Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
"Um...I know not what refer to madam, it is merely to protect against the sun." Selaine says with a touch of asperity, her own hands impervious to the affront of their mistress as she props on her elbows to reach across and knot the ribbon, slippery and cold beneath trembling digits. Cobbled to protect against sharp rocks, mud and other travelling obstacles, it is netherless counter to most rigidly moulded boots most might don; far more breathable and permitting the wearer to odd flex and twist without much resistance.

"Selaine...I mean Marette. Madam." Eked out is the answer, slightly breathless when it comes to the second foot and its elusive ribbon, tucked neatly under the heel itself. Attempting to sound contrite, she adds a quiet pardon in there before her blunted nails run down the bats ankle, thumb and two fingers endevouring to hook underneath to release the trapped material.

Echo (640) has posed:
     "But you feel so anxious and like you're worried about something, I can hear it in your pulse," Echo paused to lick her lips, red tongue going over those ivory teeth and long fangs of hers. "Nnnh... evenings such as this do give me the quite the craving... but I think these shall be lovely slippers to wear around my house," she of course lets Selaie finish tying the ribbons on her shoes, apparently taking no discomfort at being waited on.

     "Do take your time dear, and do continue calling me madam, I quite like it," she grinned just a bit, those long fangs of hers denting her lower lip. She seemed to purr as those nails ran down her ankle, freeing the trapped ribbon. "You should let your pale skin shine like the moon in an evening such as this."

Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
"Not an option, madam." Calm authority thinly layering the frentic pulse beating so quick and fierce against the fine tissue of skin, barely visible twitch at the temple. "It generates less vested interest to be like others." Pausing herself to tightly knot the ribbon, thumb glancing over the arched instep then it is time to retreat and avert her flushed face from possible scrutiny. Silently muttering a prayer of thanks for the heavy folds that obscure any heaving ribcage beneath smothering layers to portray only the lightest rise and fall.

Composed again; embarrassment hidden away, Selaine tentatively attempts to stand on unsteady toes.

"Please, do your best to put them through their paces, madam."

Echo (640) has posed:
     "Mmnn, I see, so you do not like to encourage attention," Echo clucks her tongue, letting it flick off the the edge of her top teeth. "I suppose I can see how that might be prudent, in such a place. I live alone, in a section of land that is quite wilderness. I only have the moon and the creatures of the night to call neighbors, the occasional howl of the wolf over the crackling fire," she cants her head to the side, as if picking up on her rapid breathing.

     "I shall," and Echo does, moving about the shop with those slippers clip clopping about, mincing about on her white-furred feet. "What do you think? I don't think they go with this dress, of course, I have a much shorter red 'come hither' number at home," Echo did too, it was blood red and made of a red gauzy lace.

Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
"How p...poetic." A stutter however small is bound to catch attention, so Selaine follows it up with more sales patter, the almost imperceptible twitch of the cowl that lies level with her cheek and the eyes whose hue matches Echos own dressy number.

Tilting her head upwards, she opinones with a slightly breathy gusto that is netherless still reasonably subdued. "A daringly vibrant red to draw out the entire ensemble. A splash of colour in the wilderness."

Echo (640) has posed:
     Echo catches the little stutter like a shark who finds blood in the water. Soon she has sidled up along the sales-elf and was emitting that same pleased purr. "Oh really? would you like to see it perhaps, deary? I can open a portal to it right here," she reached up and trailed a finger along the duskwight's cheek now, finding more of that powder against her finger. "Does remind me I need central heating for a shower system in it, could help in getting that stuff off you," she mutters under her breath.

     "Plus, you can also join me for dinner, m'dear, would you like that?" she purrs.

Selaine Marette (708) has posed:
Selaine Marette jerks her head backward, open confusion creasing her features mingled with an enigmatic twist of her lips. Elegance, thy name is not Selaine.

"I would invite the chance to...to view the craft by a genuine professional madam, however it-it...there is another client I must satisfy before indulging in personal jaunts across time and space." Despite her hammering heartbeat, a wry uplift of her mouth suggests she is mildly amused in addition to the palpable panic threading its way through her nervous system, sending her body into a conspicuous jitter.

"Perhaps, after then...madam. If you may permit a sketch of the garment."

Echo (640) has posed:
     Depositing the gil worthy of the purchase on the elf's counter, or rather under it, the bat moves to bar the door before a dark starry space seems to engulf the floor. "Oh, but I insist," leaving the shop barred from the inside so no intruders could get in there, the /closed/ sign is put up and the elf would find herself and Echo being drawn downward, as the floor is no longer tangible. They are drawn... well, somewhere else. Namely Echo's castle.

     "You can sketch it with me wearing it in person m'dear, ohohoho~" and what a night it would be.