Making the Cut

[Akantha SolEilran]

The creativity made the designer, the craftsmanship made the tailor. Some focused on one of those two parts, and some did both of them. There were many that could follow the patterns that were set out for them to follow by their masters and mentors, but designing those patterns was a whole different story. A bespoke gown wasn't going to have any such pattern for others to replicate. Oh, some did; some had their basic cuts that started before the different elements and adjustments began... but the whole of the outfit? No. And that was the best part. And whether Filaurel knew it or not... there was like as not to be a lot of commotion about his craft the day after the gallery opening.

He could likely see the way she was visualizing the outfit in her head as he described his ideas. Chiffon was an excellent fabric, it draped well and had structure, it was accessible, it was light, it was elegant, and considering the soft and mild weather, it breathed well and Akantha found it was quite easy to manipulate further with aerolyth dragonshards when one was so inclined. And since it would likely be made from silk, it would take to the dyes well, allowing that gradient to be made just so... Depending on if he wanted to use the ruching technique, perhaps he'd cut and sew different colours of the textile together instead of the dying, considering the difficulty of that art, but all of this was up to Master Len'Alen.

"Of course," she nodded when he offered to sketch, adjusting her position a bit so that she could watch the easel while being out of the way so that she was not blocking the kineticist at his efforts. There were the elements that he'd spoken of, and it certainly gave her insight into the way his thoughts were going. Perhaps she could have sembled him to try to glean more, but Akantha was not about to try. There was something to be said about the deliciousness of anticipation, after all. Her head tilted as she watched the pencil, and her hands clasped in front of her.

Her blue eyes were keen, and Akantha smiled at the sketch, and then at Filaurel. "This will be wonderful... Exactly what I need for the soiree. I can have the deposit brought to you this afternoon, if that suits you, Master Len'Alen."

"There is no rose without a thorn."

[Filaurel]

•───────── Gloaming Hapertas ────────•

50th of Glade, 124th Year of the Age of Steel

Filaurel gazed upon his own sketch perhaps a little longer than was wholly personable, the image overlaid in his mind with the ghost of the real thing. It would be gorgeous, he was sure of that much. Inspiration had well and truly struck, and his fingers itched to get to the making of the thing... even though those digits would play no real part. He was sure now that the hardest part of the schedule would be forcing himself to work on other projects first.

Akantha's words broke him of his stupor. He blinked, clearing his throat as he cast about for a moment to recall exactly what she'd asked him.

"Ah- yes, of course." Filaurel replied, at last, "Yes, the deposit. I will write you a bill to cover the material procurement, and you can settle up for the labor when you pick up the gown."

It was yet another sign of the store's modest standing. The purveyors of clothes to the great houses took much more up front, for even if the customer refused the finished product they would insist their auteurs were handsomely paid. A small atelier like this one, however, felt entitled only to require that it not lose crowns upon the cloth itself.

"Thank you for your visit." Len'Alen spoke the formalities, but was surprised to find quite a bit of earnestness behind the words. There was something spiritually refreshing about this encounter, and though he could put no words to hi, he was gladdened anyway. "I do not mean to pry, but I must ask for a name and place for the dispatch once the work is complete."

He was generally ambivalent about the affairs and circumstances of his customers, but something piqued his curiosity here. Still, it was not his practice to inquire any further than business demanded, and he held himself strictly to that standard.

[Akantha SolEilran]

"Of course," Akantha agreed with a nod, interlacing her fingers in front of her, smoothing the front of her dress with her thumbs.

She wasn't about to argue with a businessman about his prices. Some charged that way. Some refused to charge her properly for their time and effort and materials, and charged too little or nothing at all when they learned who she was. But Akantha was a true believer in supporting artists and artisans, and she would simply tip later and send others their way - because when she wore that dress, she might well wear a charm that prevented others from delving too deeply into the secrets of the craft, but one thing would always be available: the designer's name. And this gown would surely keep him busy long after. And hopefully, he would be able to increase his prices as he wished - charge those who could afford it more, and keep his regular margins for those who had less free pursestrings.

But of course, it was always eyes on the prize - and it wasn't just her soiree dress at stake. She had wanted to see how he worked and what he could create so that she could put his name forward for the party with her Sire. And to gauge from what work was already available to see here in the shop, this design, and the creative process she had witnessed, Master Len'Alen was well on his way.

When he asked her name, though, there was no more hiding it. Of course, she could, but there was no need to hide one's light under a bushel, after all. She did wonder if he had guessed at all, and now wanted confirmation, but she wasn't about to ask. "The pleasure was mine, Master Len'Alen. You have a lovely atelier here, you know, and I am glad I was finally able to come and see it. My name is Princess Akantha of House Sol'Eilran," she smiled at Filaurel, and inclined her head in greeting now that she had finally introduced herself. "It can be sent to Eilranoikos." The Royal family's home in Silfanore, for the Phoenix King's eldest child.

"There is no rose without a thorn."

[Filaurel]

•───────── Gloaming Hapertas ────────•

50th of Glade, 124th Year of the Age of Steel

Watching the Princess' words break through Filaurel's thoughts was almost a comedy in its own right. The man nodded thoughtlessly and jotted down the name as it was given to him, and looked away towards his stores as if moving on to consider what he might need to order. It was only then that he frowned, realizing that he'd missed something vital, and glanced back down at his sketch, reading Akantha's name. He blinked, reading it again, sounding it out with his lips as though trying to overcome some sort of mental block.

Then realization struck all at once, and Len'Alen nearly fell out of his chair. The look of shock spreading across his usually-stoic face could have inspired a generation of sculptors, assuming those artists were assholes.

"Pr-" the word seemed to stick in his craw as he spoke it, but he powered through, unwilling to stutter "-rincess? Ah, my... my apologies, your Highness."

Though she had produced no evidence and Filaurel had never seen the Royals, save for at a great remove at certain events of state, he had no cause for doubt. She was obviously wealthy, he'd noticed that much, and it was clear now that the other elf was a guard or minder of some variety. Nobody in the upper circles of society would make such a claim in jest.

"I did not recognize-" again, he stopped himself. Obviously he hadn't recognized her. There was nothing so pointlessly shameful as to babble and exclaim the obvious at a time like this. Instead, he sought refuge, as ever, in professionalism.

"My deepest apologies. I will have the gown ready and sent to your home by discreet courier at the first possibility." The tailor's voice recovered admirably from his shock and horror; by the end of that sentence, it was as dispassionate and clinical as he preferred while talking with his patrons. He afforded the Princess one additional courtesy, however, making the effort to pull his limp body from the chair before bending it in a stiff bow. It wasn't the sort of graceful obeisance he'd practiced for back in his service days, but he'd had little occasion to learn how to bow through Kinetics thus far.

...thus far. He thought to himself. But he could probably learn, if there was money in it.

[Hekatos]

R E V I E W

PC: Akantha :PC

XP: 8 :XP

MXP: 2 :MXP

Injuries: n/a :Injuries

Loot:

• 1 gown as described

:Loot

PC: Filaurel :PC

XP: 8 :XP

MXP: 2 :MXP

Injuries: n/a :Injuries

Loot:

• payment

:Loot

Notes:

• Since they're doing casual, quotidien magic, I'm only giving some magic XP. This isn't meant to be a punishment, but my DMs are open if you want me to reconsider the XP allotment.
• Since presumably we don't want to do maths, I'm going to ask you don't put the dress or the coin on your ledgers. Akantha's wardrobe is covered by the crown, and I don't want to make Filaurel do a business sheet unless he wants to so we can just assume she had the dress for her gala and he made rent. As with the previous note, my DMs are open for negotiation or brainstorming.
• The format of this review might change to ensure I'm giving Mirage what he needs for his NaNo scrivening, but the data won't change!:Notes