[ - is something that Tertia, if one thought about it deeply, shouldn't actually know. After all, when would someone like her have had an opportunity to observe the way that the high-born interact with one another? This is knowledge from her time in the Venatori. ]
That would be some protection for you, wouldn't it?
I probably... [He glances around, and withdraws even further-- this is the kind of information that can be used by the kind of people in the market for extortion money, and he's not in the mood to feel that particular brand of paranoia today.]
...wouldn't be killed, [he continues, in a near whisper for only Tertia to hear,] but used as, at best, a bargaining chip, and at worst, a source of information on the enemy.
[Especially when he's on a Sad Bender, but that tends to be at night, and she doesn't need to know about those.]
Hightown, though, not often-- that's more of a treat, when I've got a bit more coin to spend. Or, you know, fabric that I don't trust in the hands of someone who works with mostly burlap and leather scraps. [He hefts his basket of fabric to demonstrate.
Although not dressed entirely like an aristocrat, Benedict still carries himself like one, looking over the heads of the people they pass with a sort of lofty cheer.]
[ She peers into the basket, frowning slightly in curiosity. ]
Why? Is there something tricky about that fabric?
[ When you spend your days with your head down, sometimes you don't even learn enough to be able to recognize the difference between finery and filth. ]
It's good fabric, [he enthuses, looking down at it as fondly as though it were an infant.] You wouldn't give a diamond to an artisan who works primarily with tin. [and you wouldn't download a car]
[ They crest the stairs without further comment from Tertia.
Hightown is - Well. It only takes Tertia a single glance to know that this is a place where an elf will stand out indeed. Everyone here is a human, and a well-dressed one; she feels as out of place as rust on silver. Her look over at Benedict is questioning - is this really where we're supposed to be? ]
[In contrast, Benedict fits in better here than he does in the Gallows, and catches Tertia's glance with an oblivious smirk. In truth, it likely works in her favor; no one will question her presence as long as he's here, even if that invokes the social dynamic they're both trying to avoid.
As they enter a section of the market that seems particularly dedicated to clothing and fabrics, Benedict slows his step, his gaze catching on an assortment of garments hanging on display. He gestures, drawing Tertia's attention to them.]
[ She eyes them uncertainly. She doesn't reach out and touch or examine the garments physically; instead, she stays restrained, only looking. Not the best way to find out more about them. ]
I mean - they're very, um, pretty. [ A hesitation - ] I don't know if I'm pretty.
[ She doesn't say that in a self-pitying way - because she is pretty, in truth, and she knows it. More in the sense of...She doesn't know if she's the sort of person who would wear pretty things. ]
[He dismisses the concern out of hand, approaching the stall to select a garment that looks about the right size, in a fine silvery color. He nods at the shopkeep, pulls the tunic down, and holds it in front of Tertia to gauge it, then keeps it held toward her with an encouraging smile.]
There's a little booth with a curtain right over there, try it on. [He motions to the booth.] Won't know till you see it.
[ Her face turns a little pinker still. But she does take it from him, fingers holding it awkwardly - the fabric is so thin, after all, and flows so oddly - and then shuffles over to the booth.
There's a few minutes of rustling. Then she says - ]
[ She emerges timidly. Benedict, it must be said, has a good eye; the color and fit both flatter her, the silver making her dark hair and eyes stand out all the more and the slim cut emphasizing her elegant figure.
That said - That said, Benedict's pleasure might be somewhat tempered. Tertia normally wears long sleeves that extend past her wrists and halfway down her palms. The sleeves of this garment are shorter, falling just past the elbow. And so what she usually conceals is hidden: plain to view are the many regular, parallel scars crossing the line of her vein. Marks typical of a slave who'd been used, time and again, for blood magic rituals.
She doesn't seem ashamed of them, exactly. But there's some discomfort there, as she tugs at the sleeves to try to draw them down a little further. ]
[Eyes flitting up and down, Benedict seems pleased by his choice-- though his gaze does linger on her arms, he makes no comment on them. That's workable; a similar scar across his throat is always carefully concealed by an ascot or frill of some kind,[
[ She tugs at the bottom hem. The fabric and the cut might be comfortable, as she said, but - that doesn't mean she herself feels especially comfortable in it. So: no, in short. ]
[With a nod, Benedict considers. Then he turns back to the stall, sifts through the hanging garments, and produces another one: it's of a similar shape and size, but with longer sleeves, and this time in a deep blue.]
[ It's a good instinct. But it's not the sleeves alone that are the root of the issue; when she comes out, she's still fidgety and awkward, even though she once again looks quite fetching.
At least this time she has a little bit of insight into her discomfort she can share: ]
It's, um - [ A hesitation, then she says: ] It feels a little - excessive. A little frivolous.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-11-01 10:43 pm (UTC)[ - is something that Tertia, if one thought about it deeply, shouldn't actually know. After all, when would someone like her have had an opportunity to observe the way that the high-born interact with one another? This is knowledge from her time in the Venatori. ]
That would be some protection for you, wouldn't it?
no subject
Date: 2022-11-02 07:29 pm (UTC)...wouldn't be killed, [he continues, in a near whisper for only Tertia to hear,] but used as, at best, a bargaining chip, and at worst, a source of information on the enemy.
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Date: 2022-11-02 08:23 pm (UTC)[ She looks away, embarrassed by the fact that she's pushed him on something that so clearly causes him discomfort. ]
Sorry. I shouldn't - Let's talk about something else.
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Date: 2022-11-02 10:05 pm (UTC)[He's glad to change the subject, nonetheless, and they're coming up on the other side of the ferry, which is as good an excuse as any.]
What sort of thing are you interested in? [he asks lightly,] Robes, dresses?
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Date: 2022-11-03 06:38 pm (UTC)[ She flashes him a quick, almost guilty-looking smile. ]
I've never had... Well, that's not true; obviously I've had clothes before. But I've never picked clothes before.
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Date: 2022-11-03 06:41 pm (UTC)Then we'll just have to see, won't we?
[The ferry docks, and Benedict leads the way through the milling crowd, toward the large stone staircase that leads into Lowtown.]
It's a bit of a climb. ...sorry.
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Date: 2022-11-03 07:56 pm (UTC)I have legs.
[ Laziness is not a word this young woman is acquainted with. And, indeed, she doesn't complain as they start scaling those daunting stairs. ]
How often do you come into the city?
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Date: 2022-11-04 07:38 pm (UTC)[Especially when he's on a Sad Bender, but that tends to be at night, and she doesn't need to know about those.]
Hightown, though, not often-- that's more of a treat, when I've got a bit more coin to spend. Or, you know, fabric that I don't trust in the hands of someone who works with mostly burlap and leather scraps. [He hefts his basket of fabric to demonstrate.
Although not dressed entirely like an aristocrat, Benedict still carries himself like one, looking over the heads of the people they pass with a sort of lofty cheer.]
no subject
Date: 2022-11-14 01:33 pm (UTC)Why? Is there something tricky about that fabric?
[ When you spend your days with your head down, sometimes you don't even learn enough to be able to recognize the difference between finery and filth. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-11-16 01:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-19 05:45 pm (UTC)[ She frowns a little as she thinks through this. It seems like whatever you have, you'd want the best person for it - right? Diamonds or tin. ]
I, um - I wasn't supposed to bring things for them to work with, right?
no subject
Date: 2022-11-22 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-27 01:05 am (UTC)[ They crest the stairs without further comment from Tertia.
Hightown is - Well. It only takes Tertia a single glance to know that this is a place where an elf will stand out indeed. Everyone here is a human, and a well-dressed one; she feels as out of place as rust on silver. Her look over at Benedict is questioning - is this really where we're supposed to be? ]
no subject
Date: 2022-11-30 08:28 pm (UTC)As they enter a section of the market that seems particularly dedicated to clothing and fabrics, Benedict slows his step, his gaze catching on an assortment of garments hanging on display. He gestures, drawing Tertia's attention to them.]
See anything you like?
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Date: 2022-11-30 10:29 pm (UTC)Um...The colors are pretty.
[ Is that what he's looking for? ]
no subject
Date: 2022-11-30 10:34 pm (UTC)Are they something you'd like to wear?
no subject
Date: 2022-12-01 01:18 am (UTC)[ Color rises to her cheeks slightly. ]
I mean - they're very, um, pretty. [ A hesitation - ] I don't know if I'm pretty.
[ She doesn't say that in a self-pitying way - because she is pretty, in truth, and she knows it. More in the sense of...She doesn't know if she's the sort of person who would wear pretty things. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-02 06:19 pm (UTC)[He dismisses the concern out of hand, approaching the stall to select a garment that looks about the right size, in a fine silvery color. He nods at the shopkeep, pulls the tunic down, and holds it in front of Tertia to gauge it, then keeps it held toward her with an encouraging smile.]
There's a little booth with a curtain right over there, try it on. [He motions to the booth.] Won't know till you see it.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-02 08:40 pm (UTC)[ Her face turns a little pinker still. But she does take it from him, fingers holding it awkwardly - the fabric is so thin, after all, and flows so oddly - and then shuffles over to the booth.
There's a few minutes of rustling. Then she says - ]
Okay. Um - it's on.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-02 09:00 pm (UTC)[He stands waiting, smiling, eyes alight with anticipation. They'll make a prom queen of Tertia yet.]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-03 12:18 am (UTC)That said - That said, Benedict's pleasure might be somewhat tempered. Tertia normally wears long sleeves that extend past her wrists and halfway down her palms. The sleeves of this garment are shorter, falling just past the elbow. And so what she usually conceals is hidden: plain to view are the many regular, parallel scars crossing the line of her vein. Marks typical of a slave who'd been used, time and again, for blood magic rituals.
She doesn't seem ashamed of them, exactly. But there's some discomfort there, as she tugs at the sleeves to try to draw them down a little further. ]
I - It's comfortable.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-03 12:24 am (UTC)Do you like it? It fits you well.
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Date: 2022-12-03 12:30 am (UTC)[ She tugs at the bottom hem. The fabric and the cut might be comfortable, as she said, but - that doesn't mean she herself feels especially comfortable in it. So: no, in short. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-03 12:33 am (UTC)Try this one.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-03 12:43 am (UTC)At least this time she has a little bit of insight into her discomfort she can share: ]
It's, um - [ A hesitation, then she says: ] It feels a little - excessive. A little frivolous.
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