Solo Look at the pretty colors!

[Drusilla]

29th of Spring 514 AV Drusilla was actually very excited about her work today. A large dye shipment had come in and fabric were being dyed gorgeous rainbow hues of all sorts. Oh the colors the dyes gave! Reds and oranges, like Drusilla had only seen when Turrin has taken her to God's Perch. Yellows pulled straight from the wild flowers. Green that had to look like well watered grass Drusilla thought, most years the grass was dried and a dull brown from a lack of water. Blues pulled from the shallows and depths of the water and some from the heavens themselves. Pinks so deep and perfect the Symenestra could only think of the wings of the silk moths back home. But what really caught Drusilla's attention was the purples. It was known that her favorite color was that of her eyes, deep purples. She would have to see that some silk was dyed along with the other fabrics. Not because she could afford if it was made into a dress. It was just to admire it here for this moment. Watching the complex dying process was fascinating and normally the Symenestra would ask a nicer Avoura to show her how it was done and if there were any tips and tricks to it. But today she stayed silent, dye this perfect was rare and she didn't want to distract them from this task, not even for a tick.

[Drusilla]

The dying process was long and tedious along the time it took to dry the fabric and it made Drusilla all the more antsy while waiting. She wondered if she was the only seamstress who felt this way. As everyone else looked bored in her opinion, like there were a million other things they could be doing non-work related right now. In her mind she simply summed this up as Inarta will be Inarta, they'd rather ride eagles and hunt than do this. Had they been Symenestra, they'd of been more like Drusilla. Deciding that the only way to calm herself was the old out of sight out of mind trick, she went to look through her collection of patterns deciding which ones were worthy of the prized fabric. Her gut told her that more women than men would be buying whatever was made. As spring was upon them Drusilla looked over some simplistic dress and skirt designs. She pulled a pattern here and there slowly making a pile, when she came across a pattern that was perfect in her mind. It was a skirt long and flowing like something dancers might wear as they spun round. With the intense colors of the dye, they would be beyond eye catching! Another idea had wormed it's way into the Symenestra's brain and she was off checking their storage of glass beads and buttons. Just a few on each skirt for a focal point, something to add sparkle when in the sun. Just a few, as adding too many would make it gaudy.

[Drusilla]

A few chimes the fabric was brought to the seamstresses who grabbed a bolt of cloth which included Drusilla who chose a grassy green for her twirly skirts. taking it back to her station, she took a moment to admire it. Such a pretty green. Unrolling the bolt she began her work. The first task as always was tracing the patterns on the cloth or pinning a pattern on the fabric. However the first part to these skirts didn't require a pattern, just precised straight lines and measurements. It made things some what easier, not having to worry of patterns placed the wrong way or getting stuck by pins. Once the measurements were right and just to be sure she had checked for the forth time, the pieces of cloth were carefully cut not with scissors but with a rolling blade leaving the unneeded fabric unmarked so it could be used on something else. Drusilla moved to the dress maker's dummy, pinning the fabric to see how it looked. She found it satisfactory and removed it from the dummy, it needed to be hemmed at the top so the skirt wouldn't fray. She sat down and began the long job of hemming the edges. 1cm was folded in for the hem and Drusilla's stitches kept it in place. Looking around the Gallery she found everyone was going at a slow pace with few people talking. It was a nice change from the somewhat noisy sewing room. Not that Drusilla ever spoke, why would she? No one ever dared to make contact with her unless they had no other choice in the matter. Over the years the stares that were given while she wasn't looking and the jokes and whispers said while she couldn't hear had become back chatter blending in with all the noise and faces. It had taken half her life to grow numb to these things, but she had done it. When your target of torment didn't lash out or run off crying things became dull. Drusilla had ruined that little game almost immediately. But she often wondered what had they wanted. For her to show her fangs and bite someone or perhaps lunge and grab one of them and scurry over the gate never to be seen again? She had only made a threat once with her fangs and she had every reason to be wary of that dumb boy she found in the snow. Turrin had stated he was part Myrian, it had been in self defense. A small smile graced her lips, Turrin. She wondered where he was while she sat there hemming. Hopefully he was staying out of trouble, he was a grown man and yet his antics sometimes... But normally he acted that way when they were alone, both trying to escape their castes. Maybe she'd sign up to accompany him on his trade rides to other cites, it was beginning to sound better and better to her.