Closed [Stained Glass Gallery] A Pinion a Pair (Ishgrameer)

[Krysanthe]

The Stained Glass Gallery was alive with excitement. Glorious colors of different booths and vendors selling their wares decorated the area, bringing it light and life. In the middle ring of venders, eager after not being able to participate in the first Market Day of the winter (she had to rotate out since the Gallery was smaller than the Courtyard which was by now closed up with snow) was a woman selling beads. The beads ranged in style and shape, from elaborate forms to simple spheres, appealing to just about every taste. The fancier, unique beads were on display with their individual prices, often being sold in sets of matching styles and colors. Also on the table were a few glass bowls of very simple beads, arranged by shade. In a bowl of cool colors were beads of blues and greens and whites, and next to it were the warm reds and yellows and a few darker beads (like black and brown) providing very tasteful contrast, and in a third were purples and pinks, with just about every other color under the sun mixed in with all of them. The beads were all very similar yet at the same time very different, each with their own style, each with their own statement. If anything could be said of Krysanthe’s beads, it was that they were certainly a great way to express one’s personality without actually uttering a word. She had a way of conveying emotion into her work. It seemed as though despite how similar each of the beads were, it was easy for someone to find one that just fit them perfectly. The bowl with blues and whites seemed to be particularly popular today in light of the winter season. Even the white beads were laced with clear glass and some with colored. They were like snowflakes. No two were alike. Perhaps it wasn’t the style that made the beads so popular today. Perhaps it wasn’t the bead’s likeness to nature or their expression or beauty. Perhaps these beads didn’t actually contain any o these things that Krys prided herself on. Perhaps the only reason people bought these beads was because of a little sign she put up in front of the bowls. ‘Three Bowl Special – A Pinion a Pair! Pick any two beads from the bowls for only one pinion!’ Sure it wasn’t the best deal, but it wasn’t the worst. Krys was not against trading and was generally fairly generous if someone asked for three or four for the same price, depending on the quality and size of the bead. She really didn’t mind, especially on a day like this when she was in a particularly good mood. She had been receiving a few special requests for beads to be made into jewelry. She was to make specific pendants and specific sets for specific purposes and it simply thrilled her. She loved her job and she loved being appreciated for her work. It wasn’t every day she got to show off.

[Ishgrameer Windwalker]

Ishgrameer wandered around the gallery. There was less room, but he had grown accustomed to it after he sold his bows the first market day. This day however he decided that he should spend some of his earnings from last season’s pay, of which he’d spent none so far (save for of course bow making materials). There were various people selling an even greater variety of works. He weaved his way in and out, as he perused what each vendor had to offer. Time passed by slowly as lights cascaded across intricate glass work. Ishgrameer had seen a few baubles and trinkets that appealed to his fancy, but none of them were inexpensive or worthwhile to buy. At last he arrived at a simple booth where a radiant Inartan woman was selling a delightful array of glass beads, and some other more intricate glass work. He imagined that she like many others would take personal requests for more detailed work, but there was something inviting about the simplicity of what she offered. Making his way over-while trying not to be a hindrance to other market goers due to his height-he saw the different colors that were laid out for purchase. He imagined that if he spent enough time he could find one bead of every color. Looking down at the woman he smiled and said “Hello there. How goes the sales? It’s a lovely atmosphere in here.” He noticed three different colors that sat in different bowls: green, brown, and white. As the woman responded he fiddled with the different gems until he found a few of the same style (two of each color noted before). He smiled and reached into his shirt for his coin purse, from which he produced three pinions. He extended his hand to the woman so that she could accept his payment. When she did he took each bead, and began to weave them into his long hair. Slowly but surely as he stood there before the woman’s stall glass beads mingled with owl feathers. He knew what the purpose of the colors he chose meant, but he wondered if anyone else would share in that understanding (for it was an odd combination). To him they represented this: the brown symbolized earth and roots, the white represented-not snow or winter-air and the joy of flight, and the green represented nature and his eternal tie to it. Afterwards he looked back to the woman and said “What is your name, if i may be so fortunate to make your acquaintance? How are you this day? How much would it cost for larger work? Oh, and how do i look?”

[Krysanthe]

Krys saw the man approaching from quite the distance. His head stuck out far above most of the crowd, for he was considerably taller than the rest of the Inartan crowd. He clearly didn’t share their racial heritage. His hair, instead of the burning read that adorned so many of the people’s heads, was brown and white, woven with the feathers of an owl that really highlighted the hair’s colors. He was muscular and healthy-looking, and it seemed as though nothing about him really belonged in this volcano home, save for the feathers. When he got closer, however, Krys actually got to see his eyes. They were as intense an orange as some of the stained glass through which faint light shone. They were as burning as magma, as radiant as the sun. The color-fanatic tried not to stare at the strange animalistic eyes, busying herself with straightening out some of her items. He finally reached her booth and asked her a simple question. “How goes the sales?” She returned the smile to the potential customer, although it was strange actually having to look up to someone. He was so tall; she found it to be borderline ridiculous. “Wonderful!” She replied in a peppy tone rather uncharacteristic for her, not that this stranger would know. She was just having a great day, and now came another man eyeing some of the beads and fishing out some pinions. Why wouldn’t she be in a good mood? Sales were indeed wonderful, and her attitude was directly related to what she sold. This isn’t to say that KRysanthe was in any way superficial. It wasn’t that she could only ever be happy if she made a certain amount of money. What made her happy was the very thought of other people appreciating her work. She remained a Chiet for the longest time because it took her ages to accept and harness her potential because she never felt she was worth much of anything, and in turn, her work must be worthless as well. By selling the beads, it gave them worth, which gave Krysanthe self worth as well. She accepted the pinions and tucked them away, watching curiously as the man took the beads and wove them into his hair. What a fine sense of fashion he had. It really was quite stylish. The colors just seemed to fit so well with everything about this man. He seemed to be a real naturalist. All of the colors just seemed to symbolize everything of nature. The brown of earth, the white of snow, the green of... well, there was so much in nature that was green, she wasn’t even sure she could think of a particular one it could represent. Grass? Trees? Did it really matter? Of course she could just be crazy. The guy could just have an eye for color schemes. The beads could have been picked out for the sole reason of matching his feathers and complimenting his eyes. Questions. So many questions. Why did he have to ask them all at once? Oh well, Krysanthe was in a pleasant enough mood that she didn’t mind answering questions even after the sale was over. Normally, she didn’t open her mouth unless it meant sealing a deal with a potential customer. But this person intrigued her, and despite the fact that she was having a good day, business wasn’t exactly booming. She didn’t mind taking a minute to talk. “My name is Krysanthe, Krys for short, and I am doing well, thank you.” The peppiness from earlier as gone from her voice at the change in conversation from business to casual, but it upped a level in perkiness when answering the question about sales. “Well it depends on the piece and style and customer. I make pieces that range from value, anywhere from five to twenty five pinions, sometimes more. Really it depends on what you are looking for.” She assumed that this man was not one who purchased a large amount of pricy items judging solely by his appearance, so she added “Generally, though most people who buy from prefer to make trades. I don’t mind a fair swap. Actually, I fancy myself as being rather generous when it comes to that.” The deal she made ages ago with a man with the malachite case came to mind. He gave her a case of supplies far more valuable than the necklace he received. Since then, at least from her perspective, Krys has never overcharged a customer. “Oh, and you look great. I mean, the beads do. In your hair. With the feathers... Great.” She was never one for eloquence when came the time for innocent compliments. Some part of the generally introverted girl hoped that at least this casual part of the conversation would be over soon.

[Ishgrameer Windwalker]

Ishgrameer smiled “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Krys. It is good to see that your business is going well. Lovely wares you have to sell” the last part he said as he fingered the beads in his hair. As he did he was a tad bit sad because when he transformed he would have to remove the glass, lest it conflict with the transformation process. Still it was a temporary delight that he was sure he’d enjoy for as long as they remained in his possession. He had a conversation to resume, and so he fixed his attention back on Krys. For the longest time he had been trying to think of what it was he wanted to have a glass worker make for him. He had the money for it, but he wasn’t one to be frivolous with his money, and he never had a burning desire for too many worldly desires. Still he thought perhaps to have something unique made or something that he could hang upon the walls of Val’s gatehouse where he slept. He watched the shifting of her facial features, and wondered if she like so many of the other people he had met was not the most social or conversational. It was tricky business assessing people on a purely observational basis, but he’d done it many times before, both socially and while hunting, and he was progressively getting better. So for the sake of simplicity and friendly nature he decided to continue the conversation. “I thank you for the compliment. You are most warm and kind. Your eyes dance with delight I imagine as the fires dance, and the glass is blown and formed. I was wondering if you could fashion for me a necklace. Nothing to elaborate. Just a necklace, with an owl amulet, or maybe a feather. Though I am not entirely sure. Now that I find myself here I am unsure.” He smiled. “If you don’t mind me asking your opinion, what would you think would fit me? As far as jewelry goes. I am not good with these things.” He fiddled with a feather or two and removed them, and then wove them into the newly acquired jewels. As he fiddled with one, he noticed the blood stain and remembered what it was from. A shiver shot through him despite the warmth of the room. He smiled though despite it all and awaited Krys’s response.