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An Informal Education (Tag: Tiael)
Topic Started: Nov 30 2011, 04:12 PM (381 Views)
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Though at the time he had rather suspected she'd forget all about it, Breantur's fellow Candidate, Tiael, didn't forget that she'd asked him to teach her a bit about Weavery sometime and that he'd agreed to; indeed, within days, she'd asked him just when was a good time for them to meet up for such a lesson. The Hatching had happened on the day he'd originally suggested, which obviously put their plans off for the moment; but a sevenday or so had gone by since then and finally, tentatively, the Journeyman had approached her to offer an alternate time: Their next restday, after the midday meal.

So there he was, ten minutes before he expected to meet Tiael, fretting about what to wear. It was a perfectly ridiculous anxiety, of course; it's not like he'd asked her out on a -date-. He wasn't even interested in her that way. (Though, she -was- pretty, and he rather liked her worldly air and apparent cleverness; he wasn't consciously aware of her mild appeal but it existed nevertheless.) It was just a simple lesson in... something pertaining to his Craft. And for that matter, just what was she expecting to learn, anyway? What could he teach her? Forgetting all about the matter of clothes, deciding he might as well just wear what he had on -- the tunic and trousers were just work clothes, but they were recently made and clean, having been worn for less than a whole day, which was not always true of his work clothes -- Breantur fixed instead on the problem of what to teach. Moving away from his clothes chest with a small sigh, he absently stroked his tiny blue fire-lizard, newly Impressed just a few days before. Indigo was sound asleep in the crook of Breantur's elbow; he had his arm crossed against his chest in a manner that looked rather odd until you spotted the tiny flit he was carrying.

Well, the Journeyman told himself logically, what do the Masters back at the Hall do with a prospective new Apprentice? They try to determine his or her aptitudes. So this time he'd just try to figure how much she already knew and perhaps if she was particularly good at any one thing. Without actually going to the Craft caverns they wouldn't be able to do any dyeing, but he could show her some basic utility and embroidery stitches, show her how to choose cloth and thread for various purposes... oh, there were so many things to learn about the Craft! He found himself actually rather enjoying the prospect of teaching someone, and realized that, if he didn't Impress, this was most likely his future... instructing others in the Craft as well as practicing it.

Well then, I'd better get good at it right quick, hadn't I? Breantur told himself sardonically. Then he heard footsteps and turned in the direction of the sound: Tiael must be coming.
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So, today was finally the day. One she had actually been waiting for. Yup, today was the day she would probably sew her had to something. All in all, it was sort of exciting. Alright, there were no dragon eggs involved but she would hopefully learn a few things so she could stop eying all her clothes with distaste. She was under no illusions, she didn't have the first clue about weaving; but Breantur seemed a patient man so hopefully it would go ok.

She'd been unsure what to bring with her, he'd simply said cloth. Tiael didn't have cloth, but what she did have were her old musty work clothes and a few piles of them. So in the end she'd simply pulled out three shirts, one a loose fitting dark brown shirt, the other a slightly neater and tighter fitting white and the third, had started out as white but was now rather mottled in colour after so much work and staining. She'd decided it would be best to test things out on this garment first.

The rest day seemed to be a long time coming, though it was only a sevenday or so after the hatching. It was something to look forward to though after things hadn't gone entirely to plan. The morning had dragged, spent mostly rummaging through deciding what to bring and arranging her possessions in her room yet again. Finally though, the midday meal was called and Tiael ate as quickly as she could.

Once done though, she trotted back to her room, picked up the clothes and made her way through the barracks towards Beantur's room. Grinning she knocked on his door with her free hand, peering inside. "Hope I'm not late?" She said cheerfully, then nodded to her clothes. "Cloth, as promised. Well, the closest I could get." She added with a short frown, then shrugged. "So, where do you want me?" The candidate asked, flicking her gaze back up to Breantur and watching him curiously.
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A very boyish, mischievous thought regarding a possible reply popped into Breantur's head in response to Tiael's question, but he ruthlessly quashed it. He wasn't a particularly flirty person, and, moreover, he figured saying anything like that to her would only end up with him getting punched. He'd rather stay on friendly terms with her. He wished it had occurred to him to get an extra chair for her, but he hadn't; there was one chair, a very small, rickety wooden table, a clothes-chest, and a bed, and that was it as far as furniture was concerned. The Candidate Basics. After a moment of thought in which he frowned pensively, biting at his lower lip, he shrugged dismissively. "Anywhere y'want, I s'pose. I'll give up th'chair if y'want it, or else you can sit over there," he added, gesturing vaguely at the bed and the clothes-chest with his free arm; it wasn't clear which he meant. Quite probably both of them.

His injudicious movement awoke little Indigo, and the violet-tinged blue lifted his tiny head, squeaking sleepily. Immediately Breantur crouched, all but folding in around the baby flit, petting its face and neck until it yawned, snuggled deeper into the folds of Breantur's shirt, and went back to sleep. Once he was sure the fire lizard had gone back under the veil of dreams, the round-faced Weaver relaxed, standing straighter, and grinned apologetically, scratching at the back of his neck with his free arm.

"Sorry 'bout that. 'E'll make this 'arder, but not impossible. Let's see what all you brought, then," he added suddenly, peering curiously at the clothing in her hands.
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As the comment either sailed cleanly over his head, or at the least was pointedly ignored, Tiael mused that she should possibly reign things in a bit. She was here to learn, and Breantur was dedicated to his craft it seemed. As he gestured vaguely about the room and gave her several choices in where to sit, she wondered if the comment had really missed it's mark.

Before she could even raise an eyebrow though, a squeak brought attention to the Blue firelizard nestled in the man's arm. She hadn't even spotted him when she'd entered. As Breantur curled about him protectively, Tiael leaned back on her heel a little and pursed her lips thoughtfully. Perhaps she should invest in a Firelizard, it seemed no one was impervious to their cuteness plus she knew they could carry things....things no one would miss...interesting notion.

As Breantur straightened up she smiled. "Not a problem, he's a cutie. Congratulations...Does he have a name?" She added after a moment, then peering around the room and debating between the clothes chest and the bed to sit on.

At his question she moved into the room. "Alright let's see then." Dumping the clothes on the bed, she spread the shirts out and peered at them. Pitiful. Suddenly ashamed of her meager clothes and the fact that she was now displaying them for a waver, she rubbed at her neck a moment. "Nothing fancy, but good to start with. I uh, lost, a lot of my old things." She added vaguely and hoped he wouldn't press the matter. "I thought this one might be good to practice on?" Tiael pointed at the shabbiest shirt and then looked back to Breantur questioningly.
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"Indigo," the Journeyman answered, a warm flush of pride entering his light tenor voice. "'E's almost th'same color as indigo dye," he explained after a moment, realizing belatedly that she might not automatically recognize the significance of the name. "See, there's an 'int of violet in 'is tone, if you look close," he added, gesturing with his free hand toward the little flit and moving under the light of one of the glowbaskets in the room (all of which were filled with fresh glows and opened wide -- apparently he preferred brightly-lit quarters) so as to better illuminate the creature's coloration.

The tiny flit, his tail ringed with paler lilac-blue, slept on, totally unaware of their scrutiny. His belly was so round with food that individual lumps were vaguely visible. After a moment, he looked up and saw that Tiael had dumped her armload of clothing on his bed and spread it out. He walked over and stood beside her, trying to ignore his sudden heightened awareness of her physical proximity (dammit, man, stay focused, she isn't here for that, if she were you'd hear about it, he told himself -- an ironic thought, considering he'd totally missed her own slant on that seemingly innocent question... consciously, at least.)

He thought nothing of the shabbiness of what she'd brought. There was a reason he loved to embellish his own clothing -- he'd grown up in poverty, where there was never time or supply enough for any kind of creative expression. He'd once had to make do with much worse on a daily basis, and though those days were long gone, he'd never judge anyone else for being in similar circumstances. With his free hand, he pinched the fabric of the white shirt, nodding approvingly at her words.

"Yeh, yeh, ye'll want an old, raggedy sort of thing t'work on," he agreed. His accent made 'th' sounds come out like 'f's or 'v's' (wiff or wivv for with, for example) and there was a peculiar roundness to the way he formed sounds, especially vowels. He felt very conscious of it all of a sudden, swallowed, and, when he spoke again, tried hard to sound more like a Vaioan. "Wouldn't want t'mess up somethin' nice with practice-work."

Then he paused for a moment, looking at her steadily. They were standing very close together, and suddenly that fact seemed to loom large in his awareness. Breantur blinked a couple of times and shifted his weight on his feet restlessly, feeling a bit awkward all of a sudden but stubbornly forging past it. "Did you 'ave somethin' in particular y'wanted t'learn? We'd 'ave to go out to t'where I work t'do any dyein', but there's plenty we could do here." He tried hard to keep that last sentence from sounding suggestive, but there was a small twinkle in his eyes that showed he was aware of how it came across anyway.
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"I see." Tiael commented, glad he'd taken the time to explain his name choice for his flitter. "A fitting name then." She said, peering over at the Blue as he was held up to the light. "Almost like a gem stone." She commented a little quieter, surprised at his vibrant markings. They were pretty and you could have more than one....definitely tempting, but could she raise something that required her attention?....What was she saying she was hoping for a dragon, they needed nothing but attention.

As her clothes were assessed, she was oddly relieved to find she'd done the right thing. Well, it showed she wasn't a complete dimglow so that was good. Hopefully it would show her to be a promising student. Even if he was a Journeyman, people had to pay a lot to be taught if they weren't actually in the craft. The fact that he was offering his services for free had made her determined to make constructive use of their time.

His sudden shift in speech made her raise an eyebrow and wondered why he bothered, he was easy enough to understand. "I've been to almost more places than Pern has dragons, you don't have to change how you speak. I find you perfectly easy to understand. My uh, family, traveled a lot...."

It became clear as Tiael flicked her gaze from the garments back to Breantur, that he had, stopped. He shifted as an awkward moment seemed to settle into the room. Uh...huh. Tiael didn't move, just held his gaze for a moment until he suddenly plunged nervously on. She suppressed a chuckle but a knowing smirk did cross her features. So, he wasn't entirely clueless after all. It would be all too easy to make him completely forget why they were here, but then Tiael knew she wouldn't get what she wanted. Still, it was fun to press a few buttons as it were. "I'm, quite comfortable here thank you." She said with a slightly teasing smile. She paused for a moment, then snatched up her mottled shirt and held it up just under her chin. "Shall we? I'm sure there's a lot you can teach me." Rocking back on her heels for a moment, she grinned and then abruptly turned to flop on the clothes chest, shirt draped over her legs.
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Surprisingly, Breantur colored up a bit when Tiael mentioned his accent, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand and feeling rather awkward. "Yeh, well..." He coughed, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looked down at the floor, then became very absorbed in rubbing Indigo's eye ridges for a few moments as if needing an imaginary bit of private time in order to compose himself again. He looked up again fairly quickly, but he still seemed to be having trouble making eye contact with her. She seemed to have discovered a point of insecurity in an otherwise fairly self-accepting person. "The other 'prentices use'ta make it pret'y clear 'ow stupid I sounded t'them." He shrugged, as if it didn't matter much to him, but it was obvious from his behavior that he'd taken the teasing to heart and, perhaps unconsciously, genuinely believed that he sounded stupid; in objective truth, he did sound uneducated, because, outside the Weavercraft, he was. He could read and write just well enough to get by, but that was it. Indigo would never see use as a message-bearer not just because he would prove difficult to train when older but because Breantur found writing too difficult and slow to be worth the bother unless it was a real emergency, and he doubted someone like him would ever be in such an emergency. He lead a simple life and would likely continue to do so even if he Impressed.

As the conversation moved on, he seemed quietly relieved, but he did stop trying to modulate his accent consciously. He found himself picking up more of her little verbal habits as they spent more time together, but the Journeyman wasn't aware he was doing it. He -was- aware that he could be charging her for this, but he dismissed the notion quickly. He didn't really need the Marks. There was always work for a Weaver. He didn't need to be cadging a fellow Candidate out of her marks, especially not a pretty young woman.

Feeling very bold, Breantur had dared a very small bit of flirtation, and was rather wrong-footed when she responded in kind but just a bit moreso, not just sitting but almost throwing herself down onto his clothes-chest in a way that he was certain was deliberate. Or maybe it was just that he himself was feeling conflicted -- he wanted to look at her, yet didn't want to seem to be staring. So he rubbed at his stubby chin unconsciously, glancing at her face, then at the shirt on her lap for a moment, before clearing his throat and speaking again, apparently doing his best to forge along his originally-intended course despite certain distracting thoughts intruding. "What sort of thngs 're most useful t'you t'learn? D'you want t'be able t'make yer own clothing, or jus' mend what you got? You prefer simpler things or d'you want t'learn 'ow to embellish?" In speaking the last word, his eyes lit up subtly and there was a very minor but noticeable upward lilt in his voice. He clearly enjoyed 'embellishments' himself, but he seemed willing to teach her anything she wished to do.
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Tiael shrugged indifferently at his apparent discomfort. "Then they can't have been all that intelligent themselves." She said with a snort. "How someone talks doesn't dictate how intelligent someone is. People are good at different things." She realised she probably sounded blunt, or even cold, but the words at least were hopefully encouraging to the Weaver. The last thing she wanted was him getting cold feet and sending her away; plus, people could be really stupid sometimes. It had always mystified her, the way some people behaved. Social groups were more of a game than anything, something Tiael liked to dip into but not get too caught up in. It was far easier to look out for herself.

It seemed Breantur wasn't all that used to people, or at least, not to girls. It was a useful fact about him that she tucked almost greedily away. He was kind, but she mused, rather easy to flick the switches on. If she were a more ruthless person why, she could take advantage of such a thing. It was good then, that she wasn't ruthless, no. She just, had a slightly different outlook on things than most people. Yup, that was it.

As the awkward silence seemed to stretch on for a moment, Tiael looked up from her seat on the clothes chest and smiled innocently, rocking her knees from side to side for a moment. Breantur seemed to be having issues looking at her....maybe she'd pushed things a little too far. She frowned for a moment, debating whether to speak. Finally though he got himself together and attempted to press on with the lesson.

"Hmmm..." She ran the question over in her head, pretending to give it real thought. Truth be told, she knew what she wanted to learn, it was whatever Breantur enjoyed. Endearing him to her was important, it was the fastest way to gain trust and hopefully some free work on her clothes. Plus, whatever he was confident with, would be what he would teach best. "Darning would be useful certainly, given the chores.." She finally began. "However, I really want to learn how to make these things look, well, better." Perhaps she could even trade them in for some marks if she did a semi-decent job at the next gather and get herself some garments actually worth owning. She had a few things she could throw in and altogether it seemed a much better deal to her than buying them outright. From there on, it would be a little easier to fit in and that, was key to being noticed less. "I don't think I'd be able to make anything completely. Plus, I'd just like to look a bit more, pretty...I love beautiful clothes." She said, ducking her gaze and growing quiet for a moment. Biting her bottom lip for a moment, she appeared to be considering the fabric, running her hands over it. "You're sure you don't mind helping me?" She said suddenly, looking up at him with an expectant smile.
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Breantur didn't really know what to say in response to her blunt, but probably accurate, assessment of his past fellow Apprentices, so he just nodded and moved on, accepting her words at face value. He didn't want her to think he'd been fishing for sympathy, but it did make him feel a bit better that someone at least didn't think he sounded stupid, though he wasn't consciously aware of it. Without meaning to, he relaxed about his diction and spoke more naturally from that point on.

Listening as she responded to his question about what she wanted to learn, the Journeyman nodded thoughtfully, with a bit more enthusiasm toward the end when she mentioned loving beautiful clothes. After all, he did, too, or he wouldn't be a Weaver! He was about to say something, but paused and shook his head in reply to her question. "'Course I don't. If I did, y'd know, trus' me. Now, it's soundin' like I oughter teach ya 'bout needlework firs' an' foremos'... can do a lotter practical-type fings, but 'tis also fer decoratin'. Plenty of Weavers specialize in decoratin' what others've made." Glancing at her for permission first, he reached down and picked up the piece of clothing she'd brought, tugging at the fabric to assess its strength and durability, turning it over and over as if inspecting it closely. At first he tried to do this with one hand, but as this rapidly proved impossible, he relocated Indigo to his shoulder (who squeaked once in quiet protest, then fell back asleep instantly) before continuing his inspection of the garment. After a moment, Breantur nodded in satisfaction.

"This'll do for practicin' on. Good choice. Lotsa folk woulda brought their best, thinkin' t'make it all nice righ' away. But y'gotta 'ave a practice piece to do anyfin' you want on or ye'll waste a lotta good clothes messin' up. 'Cause there's a lot of messin' up learnin' anyfin' but 'specially this." He grinned ruefully, showing her his callused, needle-prick-scarred fingers.

After a moment, though, he looked from the garment in his hands back to her, and his gaze flicked over the clothes she was wearing again. She really -was- quite pretty, and it was a shame for such a woman as her to be wearing such clothing. Well, no, there was nothing -wrong- with it, not in that it implied anything bad about her... but he wanted to see her in really nice clothes. Clothes he'd made himself. Yes, that was it. An idea was forming, an inspiration. He typically worked for himself or for other men... he didn't often get to do women's clothing, at least not as often. So, all of a sudden, he found her presence quite inspiring. Chewing at his lip, he thought for a moment, then said, suddenly, "'ave you ever 'ad your measurements taken?"

(( Sorry this took so long! x.x ))
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Hearing Breatur sure that he did not mind the lesson, Tiael smiled and settled in to listen as he mulled his plan over. He seemed to be honest, which was good. Truth be told, she doubted he was a man that could really hide anything. His emotions and expressions gave him away almost constantly, at least, around her they did. Confident they'd not be stopped short from a sudden change of heart, Tiael paid attention to his information. She didn't know just how much actual work she wanted to put into this, nothing like a full time weaver that was for sure. She just wanted to be a bit more, useful, to her clothes.

"I've found, the more patterns a piece has, the more marks they price them at." Tiael nodded along as he commented, so, she could indeed settle for just embroidery? Perfect. She silently left out the part where she rarely actually paid for the clothes she wound up with, it wouldn't have gone down well. People always got so, tetchy, about things like that. As he looked at her, Tiael blinked for a moment, then saw him reaching for the fabric. Chuckling, she leaned back, allowing it to fall limp in her lap. "Go right ahead." She said quietly, that familiar twinkle in her eye again. He was doing well, all things considered, to keep on track.

Crafters, they flicked to 'work mode' like a switch she found. He was looking at the fabric, studying it, testing it for Faranth only knew what. It was interesting, watching the change. Tiael remained quiet throughout, until he finally spoke again.

A good choice? Well she seemed to be on a winning streak today. She smiled, putting a little more relief into the expression than she actually felt. "I had a feeling it would be something like that." She commented, then peered at his hands. Curious, she reached out and touched the ends of his fingers for a moment, feeling the rough skin there and then glancing up at him. "Is um, is it mandatory mine end up like that?" She asked, innocent smile playing on her lips as she finally dropped her hand to her lap again.

He was studying her again, she realised. Looking her up and down, thinking. She raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to comment, and then shut it again. Nope, lesson would not get done if she carried on like that. Besides, she was curious to hear what was running through his head. His question, when he finally blurted it out made her blink, then chuckle in amusement. "Well, that's a bit forward don't you think?" She said, as if she hadn't spent the better part of their meeting dropping all sorts of indecent notions into the conversation. Finally she winked and then shook her head. "Ok, I'll be good....To answer your question, no." she said, lifting her gaze to him and, curiosity peaked, tilted her head to one side. "Why? Are you interested in them?" She seemed to consider the question for a moment then stood up, spreading her arms and peering down at herself for a moment. "You're more than welcome to them, Journeyman." She said, tacking his rank on with another grin.
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