Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-03-23 17:21:00 |
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The winter cold was finally slackening its grip on the city. Today, Ari had felt brave enough to venture out without her cloak, taking advantage of the bright, sunny weather to run the errands that simply couldn’t be put off until the following week. The lack of the cloak’s weight across her shoulders was welcome, especially considering how very many bags she had managed to acquire over the course of the outing. As was the norm, she had little concept of just what was in the bags anymore; they would lie unopened in some corner of her flat for a week or two as she rediscovered the items in them one by one, at need or on a whim. Except perhaps the rather large garment bag draped over everything else she carried, but then, it seemed unlikely she would forget what it contained. She had to hand it to Countess Genevieve Albrecht -- even on a painfully tight schedule, everything seemed to be coming together, though she supposed that expecting anything less of Vivi was naive. She walked now down a familiar street in the Commoners’ District, giving some thought to taking a turn at the next corner to drop in on Drake (and possibly con him into carrying her purchases home for her) when a particularly effective display caught her eye. Jewelry, this week -- but then, Tom always had had an eye for beautiful, interesting things. Well, why not? They hadn’t caught up in some time, both being far too occupied, nor had she had anything of worth to fence in well over two months, but this seemed as good a time as any (and Drake, unintentional pack mule that she was set on making him, would wait). She swung the door open, smiling at the musical tinkle of the bell. It was quiet this afternoon, she noted -- no customers were immediately visible among the shelves and counters of items, appealingly and somewhat haphazardly displayed. “Is anybody home?” With the clamor of the door's chime, Tom snapped out of the lazy daze he had found himself in, from the lack of customers that day. Hey, it had been a dreadfully dull day. He shook his head, as though clearing it, and approached the store front, faded floorboards creaking beneath the weight of him as he stepped forward. "Aye," he answered, then smiled. He could recognize that voice from anywhere. "Is that my dearest friend Ari? Or-" Espying her, nearly drowned among her recently-got wares of the day, Tom laughed aloud. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Or is that just a mountain of bags that sounds exactly like her?" Steering herself towards the familiar voice, Ari eventually unloaded her bounty on the counter, offering the proprietor of the shop a bemused little smile. “A gentleman,” she said, “would have offered to help. I suppose it comes as no surprise that you didn’t.” She knew very few gentlemen well enough to call them friends, after all. She stretched her arms over her head, loosening the tensed muscles. How knights and their ilk wandered around in hundreds of pounds of armor, she’d never know; a few dozen shopping bags plus an instrument case were surely her limit. “I see you are hiding in your cave of treasures like a veritable troll despite the nice weather,” she commented. “Not that I blame you, with some of this.” At home, she wandered over to one of the display cases, admired the oddly shaped items laid out on a swatch of dark velvet. A polished sextant lay next to several other items that had not quite been wiped of the signs of water damage. “Someone has been raiding shipwrecks,” she said, interested despite herself. Not Tom himself, of course, but he was supplied by many different individuals. There had been so many last spring -- really it was no wonder that someone had finally gone diving (though she personally couldn’t imagine anything worth that sort of venture). "If I were a troll, I'd charge you a fee to cross my bridge. Or to see my lovely wares," Tom pointed out. There was no chastisement to his voice, Tom was as pleasant as ever. As the displays caught Ari's eye, Tom observed her, and the quirk of interest he spied in her expression caused within him the swell of a businessman's innate desire to push for a sale. But he barely had a moment to act upon that desire, as Ari teased him about his shipwrecks. Suddenly that urge had dissipated, immediately replaced by one to explain to her the specifics of the sextant. "Sky pirate in Reinberg," Tom said, sidling up to the same case and leaning against it gently. It may have been made of sturdy stuff, but a good portion of it was still glass, and he didn't want to push it over. He crossed his arms over his chest once more, his expression wistful, as though he were thinking back upon old times when it had only been a month ago. "Said he was retiring. Wanted to make a big splash of it by faking his death before he nipped off to the Fi'noi isles with his dog, but needed to sell off a load of things he thought better suited elsewhere than the bottom of the ocean." Tom uncrossed his arms and splayed his hands outwardly. "Who was I to say no to a man wanting to share the history of his prized possessions?" “I certainly wouldn’t have turned them down,” Ari said. Of all people, she likely cared least if merchandise was ill-gotten. And speaking of… “Are you also in the market for jewelry, I wonder? I may have one or two pieces I’ve tired of.” More like she hadn’t had the opportunity to take them to any sort of reliable fence with how her schedule had exploded due to Romulus and Juliana not to mention the wedding. “If yes,” she said, “perhaps I will use the proceeds to acquire something that might go with this.” She gestured to the garment bag. “And on the subject of the upcoming nuptials,” she grinned, “I hear you will be joining us for the performance of the year? Too bad you will not be my counterpart, darling; we look so good together.” She flirted as easily as she breathed, meaning utterly nothing by it as she wandered over to explore the contents of the next display case. Perhaps her shopping wasn’t quite done for the day, after all. SUrely she could carry one or two items more. This conversation with Ari was interesting enough on its own, but once she began talking about the wedding - the performance as they had come to call it - his interest had been piqued tenfold. Tom abandoned his casual stance against the glass display case and edged even closer to Ari, his expression clearly interested in what was in her bags. "Oh did you get your dress?" He asked. It was typical Tom, wanting to know more about the costumes had in mind for the event. "Obviously I wouldn't mind buying some of your jewels off of you. I've never had a problem with that. Jewelry is one of the easiest products to sell, and it tickles me to see Emillion's elite wearing pilfered wares. And you'd better be able to acquire something that goes perfectly with what I'm sure is a wonderful, expensive-looking gown." “It’s perfectly elegant and very… Alys,” Ari said, settling on the name in place of an adjective. It isn’t at all Aud, she didn’t say. How could she not approach this as a performance when everything about it was so unlike the woman she’d grown up alongside? “I see you eyeing that bag, you know,” she said. “Ask nicely and I’ll show it to you. Or maybe you can just give me a discount on the something suitable and expensive?” Unlikely, but she wouldn’t be Ari if she didn’t try. “You can even help me pick it out. I trust you not to drape me in gaudy nonsense.” With a nod, Tom acknowledged what Ari was getting at. It was very much a performance for them, and it was all about the roles they were assigned to portray. It really was a shame that he couldn't take Ari on his arm to the affair, because he was not sure what to do about a date. It just wasn't done, going to a wedding alone. Ah, well. "You should show me," he said decidedly. "But no discount." “Stingy,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him, but she didn’t argue. “Promise me a good price on what I’ll bring you, at least?” That much, she thought he might be willing to do. A nod from Tom affirmed what she already suspected. “I suppose I wanted to show it off anyway -- but you’re going to have to lend me the use of your curtain. I am not quite shameless enough to strip here in view of the window, though goodness knows some of the rumormongers wouldn’t bat a lash at the prospect.” She picked up the garment bag and took it behind the counter, her aim the alcove in the back. Curtain drawn, she began stripping off her clothes, tossing them onto a nearby table without care for anything that might already be lying there, as she continued speaking: “I do believe your counterpart is Aud’s little sister. Try not to look at her sideways or the bride may fly into a murderous rage.” And if she had to guess, Aud would attempt to keep Juliette from Rhys at any cost. She pulled the dress on, holding it against her waist, then shot a glance over her shoulder to the curtain, still drawn (he was, perhaps, a bit of a gentleman). “Come and zip me up, darling,” she called. Tom did as he was bade, edging past the drawn curtain but taking care not to ogle. Ari was a good friend as well as somebody he did business with on a frequent basis, and staring like a lech was a bad idea no matter how much innocent flirting went on. His lengthy fingers seemed to stumble before finding the small zipper but he deftly drew it upward without any further trouble. The dress bared her shoulders in a way that made her seem, if possible, more slight and delicate than she already did. But Tom knew better than to underestimate Ari. She was a powerhouse in her own right, and one he admired more than he let on. (That, too, was Tom's way; joke and make light of his friends, but admire them quietly.) He observed her in the mirror, and grinned. "Well if Aud's little sister looks as pretty as you, I'll have a hard time keeping my hands to myself, let alone my gaze." A joke, but still true Ari turned around, smoothing her hands over the gauzy skirt, her smile (it was always nice to be admired) turning to a laugh at his joke. “She’s sixteen, Thomas Miller, you dreadful lecher.” Sixteen and almost painfully proper and innocent. Ari recalled herself or even Aud at the same age; there was no comparison that could possibly be made. “Be prepared for a great deal of blushing and stammering if you try -- followed, of course, by your swift and untimely demise. I am certain Aud will pick a dress with enough skirt to conceal any number of weapons.” Warning thus delivered, she wandered back out into the shop in her gown, gravitating towards the jewelry counter. “So, what do you recommend? And please,” this after a glance around to ensure no other customers had appeared while she changed, “not something that one of the attending gentry might recognize as having once belonged to them.” Dismissing the matter of Audrey's little sister with a casual shrug of his shoulders, Tom immediately pushed himself toward the jewelry display. He had some things in the back that he had not yet finished polishing and perfecting for its sale, and some things which might have been recognized as former possessions so they would have to avoid them. There was an extensive display of jewelry that encapsulated three display cases throughout the store, with gems of varying colors and different cuts, many different sort of jewel settings. Tom had plenty of gold and silver jewelry, and some platinum, too. Rubies, sapphires, diamonds and emeralds were the most popular gems, but he had some others, too: jade, pearls, amethysts, peridots and aquamarine stones. These he had in fewer supply simply because the demand was not as much as those most popular among the city's population. However, this was a wedding, and an extravagant affair at that. Tom withdrew a long keychain that he held within his trouser pocket and unlocked the smaller display case. He sighed gently as he reached in and drew out the tray containing the less common wares. "You have an eye for the green stones usually, don't you?" He asked, though it was apparent he already knew the answer. "I have plenty of emeralds but I'm sure you've seen them all before. Maybe the green amethyst, with the pear cut," he pointed to a soft green stone that hung gently from a delicate gold chain. "What d'you think?" "I always like the emeralds," she said, but then with a sigh, added, "but sadly, I don't think they'd suit, which is a real pity." The subtle, pastel tones of the wedding were perfectly elegant and perfectly bland to her eyes. And so, with another sigh of regret (there was quite a lovely bracelet in the larger case) she looked instead to the tray that he offered, examining the wares displayed there instead. She gave the necklace a critical look. Elegant, yes, but not too stuffy. Not her usual style, certainly, but not impossible that she might wear it again. Or pawn it, or gift it. Plenty of options. "Well, no one could call me a tasteless, common harlot in this," she mused. "Neither tasteless nor a harlot, in any case. I'll wear the common part with pride." She picked up the necklace, letting the chain drape over her hand, the gem dangling and catching the late afternoon light. "Your wardrobe choice is probably more suitable than mine might have been," she decided at last. Handing the necklace over to him, she lifted her hair again, said, "Since you're going to sell me on it, let's see how well it goes. I'm sure you've a perfectly matched pair of earrings lurking somewhere, canny businessman that you are." "What compliments you pay me..." Tom teased in that familiar way of his. He smiled as Ari bared her neck to him again, commanding him to put the necklace on with such a simple gesture. He didn't stumble this time, and clasped the necklace in place before he placed his hands on her shoulders with an audible sigh of awe as he would with any other customer he was attempting to persuade. It was a thousand times more dramatic this time around, however. "Now, Ari, this is the one. It goes so well with the dress you've chosen, and it will just beam when the lights hit it in the right way," Tom said, beginning his selling lines. "But it still wouldn't be half as beautiful as you will be that day. I bet you'll outshine the bride, and the other bridesmaids, too. And because it's you, I will give you a fair price for it. From anybody else off of the street, I'd ask for four hundred gil. At least. But you, I'd sell it for," Tom made a show of grimacing right there. "Three hundred." “Oh yes,” she said, rolling her eyes at his overdramatic reaction, “I can see that you are simply mesmerized by my beauty, which has been perfected with the addition of this one ideal accent piece. You ought to see my director about understudying the nurse in Romulus and Juliana, for surely you would do the part justice.” Still, she admired herself in the hand mirror lying on the counter (no doubt for occasions such as these). She had to admit that the piece did suit the dress, understated as it was, and she looked rather pretty with the green teardrop resting just so between her collarbones and the gentle curve of the neckline of the gown. Still, she knew this game; where he had made a show of self-sacrifice, she now made one of outrage, gasping as she placed her hand above her heart and saying, “Good sir, you jest -- are you attempting to rob me? It is an amethyst, not a diamond! Two hundred seems far more reasonable.” "I would never!" Tom said with mock affrontery as he stepped back from her as if burned by her close presence after such a slight. But even beneath the act, Tom was nearly burst at the seams with laughter, which threatened to bubble up. "I am a businessman, madam, not a conman. And I must insist that I receive at least--" Here, he held up a finger, bidding her to wait a moment, and Tom went back into the casement, only resurfacing once he had found a pair of earrings which, as Ari had predicted, would suit the dress and necklace to near perfection. "--Two hundred and seventy five for the lot." “All the best businessmen are conmen,” she disagreed. Still, now that he was offering the earrings to go along -- at a lesser price than he had wanted for the necklace alone initially -- she felt she had jabbed him enough and said, with a sigh, “I suppose that’s fair. Two seventy-five, then, and a similarly fair price on the baubles I’ll bring you next week.” She put out a hand to shake, gave him an expectant look. “Deal?” Tom looked on the verge of shaking her hand, but he paused for one more moment. "And a round of drinks tonight at the pub?" His eyes shone hopeful. “Make it the Spoony Bard -- and expect mine to be virgin -- and I suppose I can live with that.” One song in trade ought to buy his drinks, she thought. “But only if you’ll dance with me afterward.” Tom made a big to-do of bowing over her hand before he took it in his and pressed a kiss to her hand lightly. He grinned at her. "Of course I'll dance with you afterward." Tom had always liked dancing with the girls; it was one of the more fun parts of being part of the 'merry women'. "So it's a deal, then. Let's go write this up and head off to the Spoony Bard, shall we?" He gestured toward the desk, nearer to the storefront, where he typically wrote up these sort of transactions. “Pleasure doing business with you, sir,” she said, well satisfied with the bargain she had struck. It seemed to her that visiting here had been just the thing to cap off her afternoon -- and with the tavern so close to her flat, it seemed reasonable to assume he’d even help her get her purchases home before she treated him, to boot. A victory all around. “I will gladly pay you for your very stylish selections,” she said. “But first,” an amused, teasing grin, “you have the sad burden of helping me get out of this dress. Woe is you.” She crooked her finger, beckoning for him to follow her as she headed back to the curtained alcove. Not that he’d take advantage, but really -- in the end, today they both won, in one way or another. |