glowsferatu | IC CONTACT

Well, I don't imagine you would be coming to me if your needs weren't in some way unique. General wardrobe's easy to get at a store, it's only custom concerns that call for a couturier.

So then, Seymour, it seems our first step will be to collect your measurements, and see if I can get the right impression of what your tastes are. That will require us to meet in person. I have offices in Nonah, but I can make house calls.

Without any stores here that cater to the Guado physique, I do not feel my needs will be met by any other than a couturier.

[And given that he's in the market for an entire wardrobe and not merely one or two pieces to do in a pinch, this way makes more sense.]

Ah, but having only begun to explore Maurtia Falls, I would relish the opportunity to see Nonah. When might you have the time?

Lucky for you, then, to be recommended to the best.

[ Though he's a new arrival, so she'll certainly offer whatever might be a reasonable discount, depending on the work necessary. Or at least a payment plan. ]

I should be available any weekday before five. If the need is especially pressing, I may open my schedule beyond that. If you don't think what you have will keep until tomorrow, we can work something out.

How fortunate, indeed.

Tomorrow, then. I see no reason to inconvenience you further when my robes will keep until then.

[ Robes, huh? Better make a note of that. ]

Very good then, ah, Seymour. I'll see you tomorrow.

[The following day, shortly after the clock strikes noon, Seymour arrives at Kanaya's studio in Nonah with a small escort of curious citizens riding his coattails. Mostly, they are quiet youths interested in his unusual hair or his tattoos, but the middle-aged woman nearest Seymour's side asks many questions about his religion the Maester is either too polite to refuse to answer, or too amused by to remain silent. Indeed, if the slant of his smile is any indication, the entirety of his situation seems to entertain him.]

The teachings of Yevon are welcoming to all peoples, but I fear the ways of Spirans might be very strange or even inconvenient for those from a world...much more modernized than ours.

[The woman hums with disappointment, but before she can think to ask a follow up question, Seymour excuses himself. Behind the desk opposite the entrance sits a wide-eyed young woman whom he assumes must be the couturier he was scheduled to meet with. She is given Seymour's undivided attention and silkiest greeting.]

Kanaya Maryam, I presume? [His bow is without flaw, smile slick like oil before he rises again to his impressive height.] How good it is to meet you in person.

[Those that followed Seymour don't think to correct him, they only wait in silence and, attempting to look preoccupied with either finding a seat or flipping through a magazine, watch from the corners of their eyes so they might steal a glimpse of a Troll and a Guado in the same space. If nothing else, it will make for an interesting story to share with their friends on social media! In fact, it seems one or two of them already have their phones out anticipating a photo op.]

Edited 2017-01-22 00:42 (UTC)

[ At his greeting, Kanaya's very human receptionist stands up, feeling more embarrassed than flattered. How anyone could confuse her for Ms. Maryam, well, he must never have seen her before. ]

Well, uhhh... I'm sorry sir, but this is a private office. [ She peers back behind him, a bit overwhelmed by just how many people he brought with him. ] do you...have an appointment?

[ Behind her, Kanaya notices the commotion through her office window. She steps out and places her hand on the receptionist's shoulder. It doesn't take much to guess who they're dealing with. ]

It's alright, Delilah, Mr. Guado has an appointment. Though I can't say I expected his entourage. I'm afraid we don't have the facilities to host them.

[ She crosses around the desk and offers him her hand, with a polite, if condescending, smile. As she gets closer, he may realize that for all his impressive height, the horned woman in front of him appears to be even taller. But at least he'll recognize her voice, her accent tends to be more distinct on this side of the Atlantic. ] Nevertheless, Seymour, I would be glad to invite you to speak in my office, once that matter has been settled.

Miss Maryam, please forgive me.

[Although he formally addresses Kanaya, it seems his apology, much like his bow, is meant for both her and Delilah.]

It seems I allowed their curiosity to distract me. Allow me just a moment, if you will.

[He turns, graceful despite the bulk of his robes and his height, and addresses the civilians who followed him to Kanaya's place of work. They are, for the most part, an attentive audience as he explains that they must part ways, and with his assurance that they are welcome to contact him another time, they leave the studio without much of a fuss. The young woman lingers the longest, as if to size up both Kanaya and her receptionist, and there is a defeated slant to her shoulders as she exits, as if concluding she's not as interesting as the other two women.

He doesn't care, of course, but he puts on a good show as he turns back around to face his host and her secretary, his eyes contemplative and his mouth bordering upon drawn.]

Again, my sincerest apologies for the inconvenience.

[ She cocks an eyebrow, trying to put on the most polite smile she can manage. Why do they always default to "miss"? ]

That's quite alright, misunderstandings do tend to crop up. But everything is settled now. Delilah, hold all my calls.

[ She gives her a pointed look, and Delilah, with a bit of a sheepish smile, replies "Yes, Ms. Maryam." No one could ever say Kanaya isn't passive-aggressive, but this is probably a new level for her.

She stands by the door to her office and motions for Seymour to follow. ]

[Rather than take offense, Seymour treats the not-so-subtle correction as a cue; he realizes his error and smiles in acknowledgment as he follows Kanaya past the receptionist and into her office, a perfect gentleman...

Even if, internally, he is bitter about being the recipient of such passive-aggressiveness.]

I must thank you again for seeing me on such short notice.

[ Sometimes she is really awful, it's true. Nevertheless, she closes the door behind her and lowers a privacy screen over the windows before directing him to a seat. When she takes the one next to him, she rests a tablet on her knee. ]

Not at all! I understand that the initial arrival of a new imPort can be an...interesting time, while you acclimate to the new setting. When that acclimation requires unique needs, the rest of us are usually the best candidates to make it out priority to meet them.

[ She makes a couple of swipes to her tablet, screwing up her lips. ]

I'm afraid I didn't quite anticipate many of the distinctions of your style, so any initial drafts I might have played with beforehand probably won't be usable. But now that you're here, we can discuss what it is you do like, and how representative of that your current attire may be.

[Sitting, Seymour's gaze sweeps over Kanaya's office and then the woman herself with her flat machina and well put together airs. She has earned her position, it seems, and the respect of those she employs. Her apologies must be more for the sake of courtesy than due to any lack of faith in her designs.]

I have complete confidence in your abilities, Ms Maryam.

[A flash of a smile. He learns quickly.]

But my preferences are very much what you see before you, as all Maesters of Spira are expected to wear such robes.

[Of course, only Seymour likes his to rest open so that he can flash his tattooed chest like some hussy.]

I'm sure the congregation must love that.

[ But then, she has no idea if they aren't just as flamboyantly dressed. Imagine if she ended up on a world like that instead, and had to acclimate to fashions like theirs. Her portfolio would probably look very different. ]

Is there any special significance to the colors, purple, green, red? Or is it simply what the uniform called for? Would you like more robes to communicate your role as a Maester, or something a little more leisurely?

[She's teasing, but truth be told, she's not wrong. Seymour has many admirers back in Spira, though the irony of that has never failed to escape his notice. Born of a mixed heritage, he was once an object of hate and ridicule, not of love and respect. How easily led people are, how swayed by flashy magic and prestigious titles...]

There isn't a special significance at all, I'm afraid. They are merely colors I am fond of.

[Even Jyscal's robes were tame in comparison. Seymour is just a flashy show pony.]

Still, my position as Maester of Yevon means little here, so perhaps putting your talents towards clothing that is more leisurely would be for the best. Though of course I would not protest another set of Maester's robes, either. It would not do well to appear neglectful of my responsibilities and beliefs.

[He pauses, and then with a gesture of one large hand to the open front of his current attire, adds softly...]

You needn't worry yourself too much about designing according to climate, however. The temple which I oversaw lied within the heart of an ice field, while my home in Guadosalam was much more temperate. I am accustomed to drastic changes in weather.

Well, I can't fault anyone for liking a good green. I'll certainly keep that in mind.

[ She jots down a few notes, then, while he continues talking, opens her sketchbook to capture some of the shapes and ornamentation of his robes. Just the things that really stand out, to get a feel for them. ]

It must e nice, though. This entire planet is a bit cold for my personal tastes.

You would not love Macalania, then. An entire temple of ice and stone architecture, kept frigid year round by the resident fayth: the aeon, Shiva. But for all its cold, it is beautiful to behold.

[Almost fondly, Seymour smiles. It could not be said that there was nothing in Spira he appreciated, and the pure and simple beauty of Macalania, from its forest to its snowfield and temple, was one of those things.]

What is it like where you are from, Ms Maryam? Besides warmer, obviously. Is there someplace you miss especially and above all others?

[ She finishes her details, sketching much faster than most hands have any right to move, then glances up at him with a smile, leaning slightly back in her chair. She supposes "aeons" must be what they call their gods, if they've built a faith around one. ]

I was still young when my planet died. I didn't really have the chance to see much of it before then. Where I lived was a vast painted desert, the sands colored with every shade of the rainbow.

My hive was built on an oasis, out in the open sun. Most of my species wouldn't have been able to withstand the heat, they all lived nocturnally. But I hatched a bit differently, I thrive in it.

[ Mostly due to her latent vampirism, but she'll leave that out for now. That the dead roamed the Alternian daylight doesnlt seem like the most important fact to mention for now. ]

How beautiful it must have been, the desert where you lived. I think, perhaps, that only the crystalline forest of Macalania could compare in beauty to a sea of rainbow sands.

[That they should be climatically opposed is as interesting to Seymour as it is amusing, particularly with both their homes having bordered realms of death: a barren desert and the Farplane.]

I'm terribly sorry to hear it is no more. [The distance between their chairs and the tablet in Kanaya's lap prevents him from leaning closer to place a reassuring hand upon hers, so instead he politely bows his head as if to offer up a silent prayer for those she lost. What a good Maester.] How is it you have come to adjust to the climate of this world, then? Is it a struggle, or have you found some way to make up the difference?

[ She cocks a brow, still looking at her tablet, her face looking as grim and serious as ever. ]

I soldier through, as I do in all things. Life is rarely going to do us any favors, so we might as well just grin and bear it.

[ But she breaks the facade with a smile, letting him in on the joke. Or just hiding behind a joke. ]

Not that it will stop me from complaining about it every chance I get!

[Seymour responds in turn with a smile of his own, muted though in comparison to Kanaya's.]

I admire your resolve.

[As he admires all things beautiful and strong...and useful.]

There are a people in Spira, the Al Bhed. They are the subjects of much discrimination and hate, for their beliefs do not align with those of Yevon. Their Home has been destroyed before...but they too show a similar resolve to yours. Their losses do not define them, and they rise above the adversities they face. Truly, the losses we would have incurred during Operation Mi'ihen would have been far greater without their aid.

I owe as much to them...as I do to you.

[ Kanaya's first thought is that he must not have owed them very much then, but decides that's probably the wrong thing to say. Still, by her initial estimates, this job could run him around two thousand dollars if he wants it fancy, so the sentiment feels a little empty. He strikes as a very political sort of man, someone who says nice and meaningless statements to curry favor over anything honest or genuine. But that's a trait she can accept in a client, even if she'd find it intolerable in a friend.

With that sort of man, mentioning specific terms free of any context usually indicates he wants to talk about it more. She can play that game, she's getting paid to, after all. And so, she rises to her feet and sets the tablet down, pulling out her measuring tape. ]

Stand up, if you would, I'll need to take your measurements. In the meantime, what was Operation Mi'ihen?

[Seymour rises obediently after he's been instructed to stand, his rigid and straight posture that of a man who has been taught from a very young age to revere appearances, for they are often the first and last impression anyone will have of them.]

Operation Mi'ihen was an endeavor on the part of the Crusaders and the Al Bhed to fight a creature known to bring great destruction to Spira. We call it Sin...and we were unable to stop it that day.

[He appropriates a more somber expression and does not look at Kanaya directly while she works, choosing a point just behind her head instead.]

There were numerous casualties, but there would have been countless more were it not for the ingenuity of the Al Bhed, the formidable will of the Crusaders...and the young summoner who was there that day with her guardians. I thank Yevon every day that anyone survived.

[Finally, he tilts his head to regard Kanaya.]

You must think it strange that I would compare that incident with the way you are helping me now, but this service you provide is no different from that of the merchant or the Al Bhed who provided something we did not have in a time when we needed it most. Even at a cost. I am grateful, Ms Maryam. Truly and beyond words.

['Beyond words.'

And yet he still manages to keep blathering. Kanaya's got him pegged.]

[ She moves behind him as she begins taking measurements, mostly so he won't see the wide variety of incredulous facial expressions she makes as he tells the story. At least, not until he looks at her directly.

She's kneeling down beside him, taking the measurement from his waist to his ankle when he actually addresses the obvious elephant in the room. How much it actually works is plain on her face. ]

With all due respect, Seymour, I don't see how that could be the case. [ And she really hates that she can't call him Mr. Guado. It feels like a forced familiarity when she'd prefer professional distance, especially while he's still calling her Ms. Maryam.

She jots down another number on her pad before returning to her feet. And while it may not be prudent, and may ultimately cost her the job, she finds herself struggling not to answer him honestly. If he doesn't want her services for it, well, she'll survive. ] Certainly, if you want to look at in purely utilitarian terms, I am filling a need just as they had. But to compare those services does the heroes of your world a severe disservice. I am not saving lives today, even if I am helping to improve the quality of a single life.

I'm under no illusions, I'm a paid artisan accommodating a luxury. And I'm very good at it! But these Al Bhed you speak of, they sound like a very brave people standing strong in the face of grave danger. When the circumstances call for it, I would like to think I could be their equal, but to invoke them in my trade?

It's a bit silly, frankly.

I've offended you.

[As she returns to her feet, Seymour turns to regard her, his expression neutral if contemplative. Not apologetic, not truly, though his words when spoken seem sincere enough.]

My apologies.

[A dip of his head follows before he turns his attention away from her once more.]

We Spirans are taught to take nothing for granted, I'm afraid. This does not exclude help offered by those whose motives might be considered selfish. In your case, you face no great peril and receive monetary compensation for your services...I can see why you might think I needn't be so grateful.

But I mustn't belittle the value of the luxury you provide, either. Your assistance is more than material to me, my quality of life improved not because I will have finer clothing to adorn myself with, but because it will allow me opportunities I might never encounter otherwise. I wish to help the people of this world. This place where...so much emphasis is placed upon appearances.

[A brief pause before he tilts his head to the side again to glimpse her from the corner of his vision.]

Perhaps including something modern would not be remiss after all.

[ "This place where so much emphasis is placed on appearances." He, a person who takes great care in his appearance, says to her, another person who takes great care in her appearance, and neither of them are from worlds anything like this. She just smiles and lets that one go. ]

Don't misunderstand, Seymour, I know well enough the value of my work. I couldn't well charge anyone for it otherwise! I take issue only with the two things being equated. To elevate me to the same level may not belittle me, but I do feel it does so to them.

Much as my services will surely be a boon to you, I think there are still degrees to these things. Perhaps to understand that, yourself, will be part of the appearances you learn to keep as you navigate this place.

IC CONTACT

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Apologies for the delay | FFW to the 9th

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)