by Nasrin on October 21st, 2012, 3:01 am
14th of Fall, 512
A trickle of moisture snaked its way down Nasrin's temple, catching in the fine hairs there, curled by sweat. Her arms ached deeply, the unfamiliar and repetitive motions of her work causing her muscles to burn with effort. Reaching up, she paused in her task for a moment to wipe away the offending bead of sweat. For the past few hours she'd been taking a small rectangular piece of metal, sharpened on one side, to the wooden surfaces of her roughly carved furniture. Sharai and her team of builders had carved the giant pieces of wood so that her bed and worktable were simply extensions of the floor, rising up out of the grain like waves. They had not, however, smoothed or finished the wood, leaving Nasrin with the scaper and a smirk. It had taken her precious hours to figure out how to even use the petching thing, but finally she'd figured out how to angle the tool just so, how to apply pressure just so, to cause a thin strip of wood to curl up under the scraper like a panicked worm. The builders had explained to her that she could color the pale wood, but that it would not set well unless the surface of the material was smooth.
Ayana would likely wish to coat the lower floor, her space, in all manner of bright and shocking colors. Nasrin would be taking a more understated approach, though she did appreciate Ayana's eye for flair. Her upper floor she would be staining in dark, luxurious tones, the deep toasted browns of tea and coffee meeting the light, clean cream of the wood's natural hue. |
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This is me speaking Arumenic.
This is me speaking Common.
This is me speaking Shiber
This is me using Hypnotism