Part Segundo VII - Chatty Geilar
Exhack
We Won't Build The Plane!
- Location
- Montreal, Canada
Author's Note: Haha, just kidding. It's actually done now.
[X] You want formal, military clothes that give off an air of legitimacy and discipline.
[X] You want dressed-up formalwear in all styles to look good for every occasion.
[X] You want practical clothes that are easy to move and work in.
[X] You want accessories, hats and scarves, mantles and capelets.
[X] The earthen red hues of the de la Bota's house colors.
[X] Go in creams, pastels and white to emphasize your unusual palor and fine looks.
Geilar takes your measurements in short order and starts taking note of your requests: you desire a mix of formalwear, military-looking clothing for ceremony and practical clothes you can use for leisure and work. Kermes' second takes some time fussing over the specifics and throws down some sketches for you- you took a bit of Sidonie's words to heart about trousers but still intend to have a pair or two for yourself. You're also sure to mention materials, the colors you want them in and the level of embellishment you're comfortable with.
You spend a little while outlining all of the things you want to get from your wardrobe. Most of the clothing is already templates and just needs to be cut and embellished as you like it, so there won't be a need for any additional fittings except for when the clothes are finally delivered. While you're not keen to become a homebody, it is rather nice to know that you won't have to spend all of your leisure time checking on your clothes as they're worked on.
You spend almost an hour on the back-and-forth. Kermes drops in only once and merely takes a copy of your measurements to the back of the workshop to continue talking with Sidonie. By the time you're done, you feel the tang of an appetite eating its way up to the bottom of your throat.
As you sit and wait for Sidonie to come out, Geilar glances over from his perch over his table, already starting to cut from great bolts of cream and white fabric to make your clothes.
"You know, I can't quite place your features. I'm surprised to see a foreign escudero under provincial nobility."
"Ah. Well." You sigh, scratching your temple a little anxiously. "You could say I'm not quite from these parts."
"Well, don't take it the wrong way. You speak Ispano with a thick Tesorian accent, so I'd have assumed you were from these parts if I were blindfolded. A noble, with the inflections."
You actually had noticed some nuances in the way people spoke, the softness or hardness of 'th' sounds and a few other features, but it hadn't quite struck you that there were such dramatic differences of status and region inherent in the accents people carried. In a way you're a little grateful it came up now, and not in the high court. "Not quite from these parts, no. And I learned from someone who speaks a lot like I do."
He looks just a bit nervous. "Did you have a father?"
That's an odd question. Your mind races to place a context, and find an answer vague enough to satisfy him without arousing suspicion.
"Yes… although I can't speak to his condition. We're a little estranged." You perk an eyebrow and give a faint shrug. It's not a lie, even if the estrangement is mostly an affair of time.
"Of course, of course." He rubs his chin, taking that answer as something other than what you meant, you have a feeling. "I suppose, given that you're new to these parts… I should warn you speak a little bit like a woman."
"Like a… w-what?" You stammer a bit.
"No offense intended, it's simply that… well. You emphasize words a little softer than most men do." He chuckles, clearly uncomfortable. In your mind you wonder why he bothered mentioning it at all. "I didn't intend to make assumptions, but I was wondering the reasons for that."
You suppose this is the price of your hubris, hastily transcribing engrams of the Ispano language from your new mistress rather than learning it yourself. You will have to broaden your sources and make some effort to learn enunciation on your own terms to not be taken the wrong way. If appearances matter as much as you expect once you reach the high court, your borrowed manners may earn you more trouble than not.
You shake your head and laugh a little. "Not at all! As a matter of fact, you may have saved me."
He smiles a little, his expression growing a little more sheepish after a moment. "Oh, good. Though I'd appreciate if you didn't mention this exchange, then. I'd get in trouble for harassing the guests again."
"Again?"
"I like to talk. A lot of interesting people come in here but they're always the kind who value their privacy or have reason to come to a shady little hole in the wall like this!" He whines, although you can sort of understand the frustration. "Why just the other day there was this man in a polished iron mask with ruby lenses over the eyes… some kind of duelist! Wouldn't say a thing to me except for what he wanted."
You nod a little. "He sounds like quite the character."
"Came in the middle of the night, too. Just the oddest thing." He sighs. "One of the fun things about being a tailor is rapport, you know?"
"Well…"
You could probably make his day by talking about yourself. Or you could say nothing and avoid making troublesome contacts.
[ ] Sympathize with him but keep at meaningless small-talk until Sidonie returns.
[ ] Talk your archengine, technology, etc.
[ ] Talk about Mireia's fight with Balduino.
[ ] Talk about relationships.
[ ] Ask about the city you're in.
