Just a Day in the Old City

From FiranMUX

Jump to: navigation, search

Shade does, indeed, enter followed by two thugs, but she also enters from the city gates, and moves at a languid pace in the summer heat. The wind tangles through her hair, and if she was wearing a palla, it might pull at that too; instead it sweeps at the skirts of her stola. She fans herself as she walks, and her thugs look thoroughly impatient, like they might rather be moving a good deal faster.

Amidst all the joyous drinking and whoring, there comes a time when Janus must be a responsible sailor. This is one of those horrible, miserable days. The hulk of a man plods along down one of the Nook's piers, carrying a large crate upon his thickly muscled back. Once he gets close enough for some hired hands to do the rest, he drops the cargo unceremoniously to the ground. "Feckin' heavy," grunts Janus, grinning as he delivers a friendly slap to one of the lads' backs, not minding the fact that he nearly knocks the young man over. "Go on there, brother. Get yer ass in gear and move that cargo! Ain't gonna put muscle on your bones if you're layin' around all day."

Shade pauses en route across the Nook, and though the light rain dampens her hair and the gold of her stola, she pays it little in mind, in favor of the commotion around the ferry. It's not often anyone's doing anything of interest there; she watches with unabashed curiosity, already large eyes wide and interested, if, perhaps, a bit offput by the actual workers. Doing work. Work -- what's that? She definitely doesn't look like the kind of woman who is familiar with it. She moves a little closer, to get a better look. Her thugs trail behind, grumbling.

Janus doesn't know who Shade is, not that said knowledge would be likely to have much impact upon his reaction. He happens to catch sight of her watching as he turns for another crate. In that moment, a less than innocent grin tugs apart his lips. "Well now. Look 'at that, boys," says Janus, gesturing with a meaty hand toward the audience. "Sweet lookin' Mes has 'er eyes on us. I knew I hadn't lost it." After a bit of laughter, the hulking sailor hoists another lumber cube upon his back, moving it to where it needs to be.

Janus doesn't know who Shade is, not that said knowledge would be likely to have much impact upon his reaction. He happens to catch sight of her watching as he turns for another crate. In that moment, a less than innocent grin tugs apart his lips. "Well now. Look 'at that, boys," says Janus, gesturing with a meaty hand toward the audience. "Sweet lookin' Mes has 'er eyes on us. I knew I hadn't lost it." After a bit of laughter, the hulking sailor hoists another lumber cube upon his back, moving it to where it needs to be.

Janus can't quite speak until he's relieved of the weight associated with his cargo. He recovers quickly, though, a thumb hooking under his sword belt as he grins over at Shade. "'Good day'? What're you, a noble?" The gladiator snorts amusedly. Making a decision to take a short respite, he perched upon the edge of a sturdier crate that hasn't yet been pushed along. It creaks a bit in protest of his bulk, but ultimately holds together.

Shade blushes as Janus mocks her greeting, and murmurs, apologetically, "...Sorry. Um. It's just what I'm accustomed to." She tries instead, "Hi?" Eye contact is brief, a mere flit of it, before she looks down at the ground instead; yet, she stands tall (nowhere near as tall as Janus -- fortunately, he's sitting) with shoulders back and posture formal. "You all look ... very busy," she says. "It's rare to see much commotion around the West Gate."

"Yeah, well," Janus glances over at the beaten ferry, "somebody's gotta load the feckin' cargo. Got a shipful of women who won't so much as let me look 'em over once, and I'm the only one's got enough muscle to do the liftin'." His sigh is a rather aggrivated one, though it's soon chased by that same grin. "Why're you curious, anyhow? You got the whole prim an' proper routine down real good. Into sailors 'er something?" Janus wags his eyebrows a few times.

Jariko comes in from the north. Jariko has arrived.

Shade blushes all the darker when Janus wags his eyebrows, and takes a stumbling step back -- too small to create any measure of distance, but indication of her embarrassment no less. "N-no," she says, quickly. "It's just, I spend so much time in the Nook, and so rarely is anything of interest going on ... I thought ... I'd just say hi." However clear and pure her voice may be, she speaks abashedly and stumbles through her words.

Janus settles in upon the crate he'd chosen for a chair, with neither his grin nor eyes leaving Shade for long. The sailor puts an elbow to his knee, and then perches his chin upon a fist. "So you're /not/ interested in sailors? That's what you're sayin'?" Lifting his shoulders once, he sighs a bit dramatically. "Well, if that ain't a damn shame, I don't know what is. No luck here, boys." Janus shoots a somewhat clandestine grin toward the help hired to load cargo with him. He's enjoying making their female onlooker blush, one might gather.

Wylma arrives from the Western Gates area. Wylma has arrived.

Feeling she has given some insult, Shade very suddenly says, "No!" Still blushing, she shakes her head quickly, and says, "I mean, I'm not interested in /men/." Wait, that didn't come out right. Her eyes go all the wider, and she tries again, "I mean, other men. I mean, I'm /married/. It's no offense. To sailors, that is." She fans at herself with one hand, and it's difficult to tell whether she's blushing due to embarrassment or flushed due to heat -- likely both.

Jariko skulks in from north of the piers, looking as dirty and disreputable as normal. Shade is identified first in the crowd of people; she does tend to stand out with her bright clothing and cleanly aura. "'ey Shade," he greets with a fond grunt. A closer look at her leaves him with a furrowed brow. "Wha's the trouble?" He glances around at the other people nearby, now, and spots Janus. "You's givin' Shade a hard time, is you?" *Firan*

Wylma steps into the Nook like she owns the place. Well, maybe not quite like that, but there is definite confidence in her step. Her gaze is sharp, sweeping about the busy pier, apparently looking for something or someone in particular. She sort of sifts through the crowds, not making too big of a ripple as she tries to find one Istems in particular.

Janus continues to sit, grinning throughout Shade's stumbled attempt at a reply. The young woman is saved by the arrival of Jariko, who the sailor seems to recognize. "Trouble? Naw," he replies. "She came on over to watch us, an' we just started havin' this friendly chat." Janus pushes away from the crate, his boots thudding heavily upon the ground as he plods toward Jariko. With a broad grin, the hulk throws an arm around Jariko's shoulders and says, "How the feck you been, brother? We gotta do drinkin' soon, catch up a bit."

"N-no," Shade protests, lest there be any skepticism on Jariko's part. "He was just ... being a sailor, I think. My daddy, though, he was a mercenary, and sometimes I went on the riverboats, so maybe he was a sailor sometimes? Or ... just a mercenary. Anyway, I couldn't hate sailors because of that." She babbles through this, trying so very hard to repair the offense she's still convinced she's given. "Oh, Jariko," she says, finally acknowledging the fact that she's talking to Jariko in particular. "Hi." She smiles, ever so dreamily.

Istems, Istems, Istems. Where are Istems when you want them. Oh helloo Jariko -- he seems to fit the bill of an Istems, and conveniently, he's near Shade who might know where the Istems she's looking for is. "Heyla Shade," the healer greets as she approaches, still a little wary. Sometimes her welcome isn't all that warm in the old city, despite recent efforts to patch old wounds. Nods are given to the rest of the crowd, but she doesn't yet state her business.

Jariko is an Istems, but not a very particular one. He grumbles a wordless greetingto Janus, shrugging the arm away. "I's fine. Still alive, ain't I?" He continues to scowl, looking skeptical, until Shade echoes Janus's reassurance. "Okay. Well. She's married up ta Asalan, so best ta be careful," he tells Janus, just for information's sake. It's certainly not a threat in any way. He glances up at Wylma as she speaks, his blue eyes following her approach. *Firan*

Jariko is an Istems, but not a very particular one. He grumbles a wordless greetingto Janus, shrugging the arm away. "I's fine. Still alive, ain't I?" He continues to scowl, looking skeptical, until Shade echoes Janus's reassurance. "Okay. Well. She's married up ta Asalan, so best ta be careful," he tells Janus, just for information's sake. It's certainly not a threat in any way. He glances up at Wylma as she speaks, his blue eyes following her approach. *Firan*

"Good day, Wylma," Shade returns, her greeting warm. "I've been drinking ginger tea again," she says, with a cute little crinkle of her nose. It's at about this moment in time she hears the phrase 'Hydra with a stick up his arse' and though she was perfectly allowing before, this, she does appear to take insult to, and her gaze goes very cold and very dark as she glares out at Janus, without saying anything.

Wylma's usual smirk returns with a bit of good humor as Janus mentions Hydras with sticks up their arses. "I'm pretty sure y'don't need t'stick a stick up a Hydran's arse t'make 'em look dour an' uncomfortable," she notes, despite Shade's obvious dislike of the phrase. Anyway, she has more important fish to fry, and important inquiries to make like, "Y'know where Furen's got his smelly arse off to?" *Firan*

"Depends on what he went an' broke this time." Jariko watches Wylma sidelong, displaying mild curiousity. "Prob'ly lyin' around the Villa, f'ee kin walk. Otherwise, who th' feck knows." The total lack of concern epxressed for this brother-cousin creature is truly touching.

"Fortunately for Furen," Shade begins to answer, although takes a breath mid-sentence, "I do not nag him enough to keep tabs on his location at all times. Sorry, Mes Wylma, I don't have the faintest clue where he's at right now." And oh, does she ever look apologetic -- guiltily so, as if she's failed in some manner.

Janus doesn't react to Shade's expression, finding it to either escape his notice or fall beneath his concern. He's a crude brute, and not much seems to change that. This discussion on Furen falls beyond his knowledge, and so the gladiator busies himself for a moment with the work he should be doing. Janus hosts a large crate upon his back and lugs it toward the West Gate, where the hired help grabs it for loading.

"Broke his feckin' head's what he broke," Wylma replies to Jariko's mention of Furen's rather fragile bones. Or maybe it's his ungentle handling of them that has him visiting his mother's arch-enemy on such a regular basis. Anyway, she isn't looking for concern, so much as she's looking for information and as no one seems to be able to give it to her, her expression sours. "Well I ain't got th'time t'go a'lookin' fer him. You tell him that I wanna have a look at that break o' his, an' that he kin find /me/ when y'see him, yeah?"

"Yes, I'll be sure to tell him that," Shade says, voice taking on an unusual dry note -- for her, at least. "Everyone knows he listens to me." Which, of course, he doesn't -- or most anyone -- so she cannot escape the irony of the request. "Wylma, would you like to come over to visit instead? You should see my new place, and have some cakes, and tea," she invites, although the glance she extends to Jariko seems to send him the invitation as well. "I don't suppose you know how to do hair...?" she tries. It's a stretch. But one never knows with Wylma! This is definitely not a question she has thought to ask Jariko.

Cakes? Jariko likes cakes. "I'll do yer hair fer some cakes," he offers, ever helpful. He shoves his hands down deep into his pockets, looking happy. Well. Not grumpy. Well. Not scowling. "I kin tell Furen," he adds in an side to Wylma. "I sees him most days. D'ee say who gone an' broke his head?"

"He was surprisin'ly mum on that subject," Wylma replies wryly Jariko's direction, her lips twisted upward into a rather sarcastic smirk. As for doing Shade's hair, now BOTH her eyebrows slide upward. "Shade darlin', do I /look/ like I kin do hair? Jariko's more likely t'do a good job than I am." Which is saying something -- after all, Jariko is NOT the posterboy for cool hair, now is he? Wyl looks sorely tempted to agree to it, but glances toward the palace district again. "I... should prolly go talk to this lord what managed t'break his knee..." She looks just /thrilled/ at that idea. Thrilled.

Raef has arrived. Raef steps out of the Opening Gambit. Raef enters followed by 4 thugs.

Raef steps out of the gambit and pauses almost immediately as he sees a somewhat large crowd. Well, large for the nook anyway. He quirks an eyebrow in Shade's direction but doesn't come barging in just yet.

If Shade looks dubious, she looks so only briefly, and what follows is wide-eyed gullibility. "Really?" she asks Jariko. She glances at him in an entirely new light, and not an unappreciative one either. "I wouldn't have expected you to be the type. That's perfect, then! I have so very many cakes." She turns to Wylma for assurance, and when Wylma tells her Jariko is likely to be good at hair -- at least, this is how she interprets it -- she nods with definite satisfaction. "All right! It's settled. And Mes Wylma, you know you're welcome any time. Especially if I have to keep drinking ginger tea."

Raef arches a brow higher. Jariko Istems does hairstyling?? "Eh...what's goin' on?" He ventures eventually. *Firan*

"We're going over to my house for cakes and hairstyling," Shade enthuses at Raef. Her 'we' is a 'we' used with far too little subtlety, as she looks over at Wylma again.

Raef hrms a little bit as he looks around the nook for a longish moment. "Yeh got a cake er two I might sneak a nip of?" He asks without any subtlety as well. Sue him, cakes are a priority. *Firan*

Jariko has long hair. It's tied back into a reasonably neat ponytail. Sure he can do hair! Jariko's expression looks about as dubious as Shade's, as she agrees, but only for a passing moment. Then, hey, free cakes! Certainly Shade doesn't think he's /serious/. So he gives a pleased shrug and takes a few steps toward the new house. "Ya oughta come, Shade makes the best feckin' cakes there is." *Firan*

"A cake or a hundred," Shade agrees, perfectly amenable to sharing cakes around -- especially when they're flooding her pantry. If cakes could flood. They really squish more than they flood in all honesty. "So, Jariko," she says, as she begins to leave the Nook, although not without hesitating for Wylma, first. "What do you think you'll do with my hair? I'd like something different, perhaps, but really I'd like it to be manageable, and I was thinking, if it was just arranged a little better, I'd have an easier time with it..."

There is offer of a new house. Though she'll be hangin' out with whippersnappers, as it were, the inner imp in Wylma cannot help but want to see how terribly this is going to turn out. With another glance at the palace district, a smirk spreads across her pouty lips. "I think mayhaps ye've sold me," she tells the group in general, though whether it's the hairstyling or the cakes or the house that've sold her isn't clear. She also falls into step with the group, still smirking mightily. Hydran nobles can wait to get their boo boos seen to.

Shade leads through the Old City and, finally, into a house with a very neatly-kept -- and likewise, neatly-decorated -- sitting room. "Here we are," she announces, as if that wasn't perfectly clear. "Please, make yourselves comfortable, and I'll bring out the cakes. Jariko, do you need anything? I have brushes and combs upstairs, and some ribbons, and of course, hairpins, so I'll bring those too." She doesn't give him one second to protest.

Jariko opens his mouth to protest the ribbons and things, but Shade has already rushed off. He directs a deeply skeptical look after her, before turning to Wylma and Raef. "She don't really think I kin do hair, does she? I mean, feck." As he did the last time he came to visit Shade, he stands in the center of the room where there's the least likelyhood of transfering his dirt to any of the furniture.

  • Firan*

Wylma steps into the sitting room, as always a bit awed at the homeliness of Shade's dwellings. She takes a quick moment to glance around the room, then finds herself a reasonably comfortable seat, sprawling haphazardly in it. "Well lookit that, Jariko," she tells the lad with a smirk, "She's got /everythin'/ you'll need t'do her hair up right pretty." Smirekdie smirk smirk. "I think yer gun hafta do /somethin'/ to it. I'd suggest removin' any mirrors from the immediate vicinity afore y'do, though." *Firan*

Raef chuckles a bit and nods. Being one who has no problem taking other people up on their hospitality he wander over to a chair and flops down into it. His iron-covered bulk settling quickly as a hint of silver glints briefly at his neck before disappearing behind his breastplate again. When Jariko addresses him, he just laughs a bit and shrugs. "I dunno mate, soun's like she's convinced." *Firan*

Shade returns with a platter of cakes, which she sets upon a table central to the room and all the chairs and couches. "Please, help yourselves," she says, extending the offer, once again, to one and all -- just to be polite. She also, however, carries a basket, and this she nudges in Jariko's direction. "There's a number of brushes there -- mostly combs, because brushes just turn my hair into waves -- and some pretty ribbons from back when I couldn't afford hairpins, and a couple sets of hairpins..." She has nice combs, too. Jariko will probably be terrified to touch them. Nevermind touching her loose ringlets. Finally, she tosses a quilt at Wylma. TOSS.

Raef watchs the quilt sail across the room to Wylma and then he looks at Jariko again for a long moment, with an incredibly amused look on his face. One hand rests on his chest, just under his chin, as he relaxs in his chair and prepares to watch this wonderfully amusing scene. As his eyes land on the cakes though, he leans forward lightly to snag a bite.

Cakes! Jariko is eagerly headed toward the platter when the basket is suddenly in his hands. He looks down into it blankly. "Uh." One comb is picked up and studied with the look of an anthropologist coming across an unknown artifact. "Sure, yea. Shade," he looks over at her. "I can't --" Confession is halted. Shade looks so innocent and excited. "Can't do it unless you's sitting down," he finishes.

Raef arches a brow and then leans over to whisper something to Wylma.

Meep! Quilty goodness sailing her way! Wylma just barely manages to grab the quilt out of mid-air, but some of it still wraps around her face. "Mrrf," she comments ton the quilt, lowering it to spread it out and have a good look at it. Before she can, however, Raef is whispering something to her. Again, she lifts an eyebrow, glances across at Jariko and his hairstyling, shaking her head to murmer something quietly back. "Hey Shade," Wyl begins as she starts to spread out the quilt again, "Y'got any lamb stew?"

Shade gives Jariko such an adoring, doeish look, but just as she's about to sit down, Wylma asks for lamb stew. A hostess must provide! "One moment," she says, and sweeps back out and into the kitchen.

Shade returns with a bowl of lamb stew, which she sets oh-so-gingerly before Wylma, before going to take a seat upon one of the couches. She sits straight-backed, and does something no one here has seen before -- she takes her hairpins out, and her curls cascade in full about her shoulders and down her back. She folds her hands neatly in her lap. "All right, Jariko, I think I'm ready," she declares.

By the time Shade returns with the stew, Wylma has laid out the quilt so that she can get a proper good look at it. "It's beautiful, Shade," she tells the young woman with actual sincerity in her voice. "Much better'n I could've made," she adds with a dry twist of her lips. "Thanks fer th'stew," she adds, digging in to satisfy her random cravings. Mmm. Cravings. In any event, there's dinner theatre in the form of Jariko looking lost at the girl's platinum locks. She makes a motion like 'brush it!' but he's already got that much down, and is doing so of his own accord.

Raef grins a bit at Wylma and nods, before turning his attention to Shade. "'ey Shade...yeh should 'ave one o' them pointy, crown kinda 'airdos. Always thought they looked regal..." What is he talking about? Anyone paying attention might notice the impish grin on his face as he tosses out what he obviously hopes is a difficult hairstyle. *Firan*

Shade pays remarkably little mind to Jariko, except to wince once, and very little, when he accidentally snags a curl. Her hair is, to his relative fortune, well-kept and healthy, so whatever damage he does is likely to be reparable damage -- on the other hand, whatever damage he does, he does to hair that someone has obviously taken care to keep well. "Thank you!" she says to Wylma. "I worked very hard on that quilt, and it brings great comfort to my family." She looks at Raef skeptically, and hmmms under her breath at his suggestion. "I don't know, something crown-like, that might be a bit excessive, you know? But maybe a change of pace would be nice."

Raef is clearly in this to make Jariko's job as difficult as possible but at her skeptical response he nods a bit and sinks back into his chair. "I think it'd look good on yeh Shade." He says simply and sounds, for the most part, like he has any idea what he's talking about. Another tasty cake starts to look appealing though and he reachs out for another smackerel of something sweet. *Firan*

Jariko glowers at Raef over Shade's head. "Is you the one doin' her hair?" he demands. "So's shut th' feck up." Running the tines of the comb against his chin to scratch it, he frowns at Shade's head. "You jus' sit still an' I'll do it." He puts the comb back into the basket and begins pawing at her hair with his dirty hands. *Firan*

Raef stifles a chuckle when Jariko snaps at him and goes back to munching on his tasty cake. His single, tasty cake. Raef at least knows not to speak with his mouth full, so for the moment he sits in amused silence and watchs.

"I hope yer lil' daughter likes it," Wylma offers, stuffing her face with lamb stew until she can hold no more. Mm. Stew. She is careful not to get any of it on the quilt, for that has been placed to one side with almost loving care. As for the hairstyling, Wyl stays out of it. She doesn't feel the need to make Jariko's job any harder than it is -- after all, he's obviously already struggling. Her smirk remains, not that that's anything new, and it only widens as he starts the pawing. MAN Shade is going to look sexy when he's through.

Shade may, perhaps, be starting to feel a little worried, as she hears the scritch of her comb against Jariko's chin, and then feels his hands in her hair. But she's not worried enough to speak up! "Okay, very still," she agrees, voice positively exuding trust. Such utter trust. "How do you like the cakes, Raef? And Wylma, does the stew suit you? I have some bisque as well, if you'd like that instead...I can never figure out what I'm craving. The other day I swore I wanted some kind of fish but I couldn't figure out what it was."

"It's lovely, darlin'," Wylma replies, just BARELY managing to keep a straight face. It's difficult, and her eyes shine with the mirth she isn't yet displaying. For Shade's sake. She even goes so far as to mention, "But not as beautiful as th'twists Jariko is puttin' in yer hair. I've never seen anythin' quite like that." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the honest truth.

>From somewhere nearby, you hear a female voice shout, "A'right, what's this I 'ear about Jariko fixin feckin hair!?"

"W-why are you laughing?" Shade asks, all at once very unsettled. She lifts one hand to touch her fingers to her lips, lest there be any food there, or something equally embarrassing. She looks from Raef to Wylma with imploring eyes, but makes no effort to jerk away from Jariko. Thank goodness Wylma reassures her. "Oh good," she says, with a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to hear that!" She is not so glad to hear someone shouting. "...Would someone answer the door? I'm supposed to be sitting very still."

Raef sends off another message just before hopping up to see who it is. "I'll take care o' it." *Firan*

>From somewhere nearby, you hear a male voice shout, "Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. HEheehehe hehehe. HE's! Hahahahahaha"

>From somewhere nearby, you hear a female voice shout, "Jariko! Ya ain't never done me hair afore. I think I's upset!"

"Don't /think/ I won' feckin' beat yous," Jariko mutters darkly under his breath while he scowls darkly down at Shade's hair. He gives it a last tug and then drops his hands. "There. I's done."

Jariko arranges Shade's hair messily into the 'braided pigtails' style.

Wylma listens to the goings on out on the street with even more amusement. "Jes' that I never figgered Jariko t'be a hairstylist, is all. An' darlin', you gotcherself th'most unique hairstyle in /all/ of Anarinuell." That's what Wyl gets for being a mother of 6 -- seeing the silver lining in everything. Glancing again at the door to the street, "Sounds like yer gonna hafta set up yer own business, Jariko. Hairstyles by Istems." *Firan*

"Beat who? What's going on?" Shade asks, only tentatively aware of the yelling and the laughing. Since Jariko is done, she rises, turns and thanks him with a beautiful smile, "Oh, I'm sure it's wonderful! I know I have a mirror around here..." Gulp. She goes in search of a hand mirror and when she finds one, she looks. And drops it. There's the sound of breaking glass and she turns to stare, statue-still, at Jariko. There she is, her hair in messy pigtails, braided stiffly, tied off with pink ribbons ... staring. At Jariko. Straight at him.

Raef wanders back in looking like he's had himself a good laugh. One he's back inside, he flops back into his previously-vacated chair and looks to see what he's missed.

Raef doesn't laugh anymore, ooooo she's angry. He -does- glance from Jariko to Niobe and give little shifty eye glances like maybe Niobe should take Jariko and fleeeeee.

Niobe just stops in the doorway at the sight of Shade staring at Jariko like that. Not to mention the hairdo. A hand moves to cover her mouth and she turns her blue yes on Jariko. "A'right, I take it back. I ain't needin ya ta do me hair." *Firan*

"I /told/ you not t'have mirrors around," Wylma hisses Jariko's direction, sliding out of her seat and leaving the quilt in it as testament that it's her's. Let's just make sure that nothing terrible is going to happen here. It's a good thing they've got a healer on hand!

Twin braided pigtails are perhaps the expected choice for someone with three young daughters. Jariko shifts, now that he's done, to rest his weight on one leg. "Er." He watches Shade pick up the mirror with a narrow-eyed look of concern. He seems to shrink somewhat under the stare. "'ey," he turns to scowl at Raef, then Niobe, then Wylma. Back to Niobe. "I ain't never done styled no one's hair a'fore, has I? Don't think it's so bad, fer not knowin' a feckin' thing about it." Now that he's broken his gaze from Shade's, he appears reluctant to meet it again. He looks at her ear instead.

It is difficult, at first, to discern the particular slant of Shade's expression. Angry? Shocked? Horrified? What it resolves into, eventually, is the look a mother might give her daughter, upon examining a particularly confusing piece of artwork. Her response follows in turn, "That's ... interesting, Jariko." A pause. "What is it?" Perhaps she does not want to know the answer to this, and indeed, after drawing a deep breath, she decides, "I think, perhaps, you would do well, to find me a proper hairstylist, no?"

================================ Classifieds

Contents

=====================

Message: 13/215 Posted Author Hairstylist. Tue Jun 19 Jariko


Mes Shade Valerian needs a hairstylist. As soon as possible. Send a message to her for the appointment, and the bill to Jariko Istems. Now. Please.

==================================================================

================================ Classifieds

=====================

Message: 13/216 Posted Author URGENT Amendment Tue Jun 19 Shade


Mer Jariko meant to say 'urgent'. The hairstyling need is urgent.

==================================================================

Raef glances around seeming much less interested in this whole situation now that it's devolved into Shade -highly suggesting- that Jariko find her a hairstylist. The big man looks around for a minute before deciding that now is perhaps a good time to escape, lest he be recommended for such a task and he rises from his chair. "Thanks fer tha cakes Mes Shade, I should prolly be goin'...got stuff ta sort out." *Firan*

Niobe slips a bit further into the room but by no means anywhere near the center. Wylma is only just now noticed and she glances at the woman a moment before looking back to Shade. "Prolly best ya know. Jus' a ribbon in there?" is asked as she stares at the braided pigtails with interest. No she's not laughing, it's just a mildly amused look that gets directed towards Jariko. "Looks about like Zaya's hair most days." *Firan*

Jariko has a rather hangdog expression. "It's pigtails, ain't it?" He flickers his gaze to Niobe with a jerky nod. "S'how I does Zayaria's hair." He reaches up to scrub his hand through his own hair, messing up the mostly neatly tied ponytail. "Yea, I kin find one. Sure. Course." *Firan*

As Raef makes good his escape, the healer decides that, now that Shade has managed to keep herself from doing something drastic, it's time for her to make a graceful exit. She gives Niobe a nod, folds the quilt on the chair, and edges toward the door with Raef. "Th'lamb stew was lovely, Shade, an' th'quilt even more so. I'm... sure everythin' will turn out fine with yer hair. Good luck," Wylma adds, slipping out the door.

"All right," Shade agrees, and nods slowly. And calmly. So very calmly. But it's the fake calm that precedes a storm and that storm comes closer and closer as hairstylists fail to come out of the wood work. Finally, with potentially the saddest look ever, she murmurs, "...My haaiiir."

Personal tools