(1310-06-02) A Skald, A Tsingani, & A Menekhet
Summary: A morning in the market has Aziza and Gauge running in to a freshly arrived Frida. Not long after, Jehan-Pascal arrives on the scene as well before they find a new stall with Vira. It's a convergence of d'Angelines and Foreigners.
RL Date: Sat Jun 02, 1310
Related: None
jehan-pascal aziza gauge frida vira 

Market Promenade

Two massive promenades, separated by a narrow row of alternating planters and plinths supporting marble statues from all over the known world, make up a marketplace that extends in a narrow space far to the north of the grand plaza to the south. Each walkway is two two-meter marble slabs wide, one gleaming white, the other greyish-blue, and they alternate to and fro in coloration all the way down each promenade, their intersections marked with a series of equal-armed crosses in shimmering black stone. While there is plenty of space for vendors to set up ad-hoc establishments to hawk their wares, to each side of the double promenade are stoa of fluted marble, holding up a terra-cotta tiled roof over a shady, cool walkway, punctuated here and there with doorways and windows open to a long series of indoor shops, each marked with a hanging sign outside the door.%r%rEvery twenty meters or so, five stairs lift the level of the promenade as the marketplace works its way uphill, to a smaller plaza at the northern end where all the most exclusive and expensive shops are established. This smaller plaza also has an obelisk of red granite in the middle; it's shorter, and more slender, but when the change in elevation is taken into account, its tip is at the exact same height as the massive obelisk in the town square to the south.


Culture shock is definitely a thing. Fresh off a ship, Frida has found her way to the northern end of the markets and is mostly staring with wide eyed fascination at, well, everything. Stories don't do justice to the truth of what can be found in Marsilikos! Despite the warmth, she's dressed for colder weather and showing signs of being uncomfortably warm in the leathers and fur. The sword at her hip is lightly bound by a faded bit of ribbon, while her shield and pack rest against her back.

*

Aziza was actually out and early at that. The tall young Menekhet ambassador seemed to be taking in the stalls once more. Shopping? Or perhaps just looking…who knows. However she did stick out not just because of the tall man who's arm she was on, but the two large Menekhet men that were obviously guards of hers trailing behind her. Dressed as she normally does on casual occasions, those kohl lined eyes brown eyes keep looking around until they land on Frida. She knows that look oh too well…took her a while to master neutralizing it back when she was younger. Smiling, she gives her a nod then. "I suggest silks here…." Shockingly her d'Angeline was near perfect though with just a slight accent due to her native tongue of Menekhetan. "I got lucky because it's almost similar to home for me….weather wise that is."

*

Gauge is wearing shockingly little. No coat this time Gauge is bare chested unlike so many other men, his silvery scars against his sun bronzed skin all on display along with the sharply defined and completely haireless muscles that make up his figure. His sword is not peacebound, at all, in point of fact. The basket hilted broadsword worn casually and confidently like it were a part of him. He pushes his free hand through his hair as he looks at various items and objects that are for sale and he is about to say something when Aziza is talking to someone else. "Silks?" His voice is a deep gravelly sound, rough, like two boulders grating against each other except for just a hint of silk to soften it into a near purr or growl perhaps. "Aye, silks are good." He rumbles over towards Aziza and then lets his gaze fall on Frida. It's an openly appraising Frida as he takes in her appearance. "Furs. Good and handy during the winter still." He opines with a crooked half-smile, "Heat won't last year round. Snows will come eventually. Silks. Thin linen. Good investments for the summer." He chuckles, "I'm Gauge, this is Aziza." He gestures towards himself and Aziza at the appropriate times. Not trying to overwhelm Frida with titles and whatnot.

*

More than three or four words at once causes the scarred Skald tonscrunch her face as she tries to follow along. "Sssilk?" Drawing the word out before looking to the men following Aziza, then to Gauge. The latter is studied, though the interest lay in the scars rather than the skin. Back to Aziza, she shakes her and grimaces, "I am not good with the words." And the ones she does use are thickly accented almost to the point of butchery. "What is silks?" she asks, adjusting the weight of her belongings and shield before giving in and leaning them against her leg so the cloak can come off.

*

Aziza looks to Gauge with a smile then laughs. "I…." She stops for a moment as if in thought then nods. "I may have to prep myself for the winters here if I am still here…." At that she lets her gaze fall back to Frida with a smile. "It's okay. Only reason I'm good with their tongue is because I have been taught it since I was little." At that she slowly lets go of Gauge's arm, her fingers trailing over his lightly before turning to face her fully. "It's like what I have one but….most will wear them less….sheer…." Chuckling she then seems to be looking around then motions towards a stall. "They have some silk there. I was considering a gown in their fashions here but I think I would look silly…so I just tend to stick to my clothes from home…"

*

"I think you would look beautiful Aziza." Gauge rumbles towards the Menekhet woman and he smiles softer towards her after that touch to his hand by the woman. Looking back towards Frida he smiles, nods his head towards the stall, "Come. I will buy you some silk for the time being. Then we can find you a place to live so you do not have to carry everything with you." He speaks a little more slowly but just to make sure he is speaking as clearly as he can with that rough voice of his, so she has a better chance of understanding him. "Maybe you know her language too?" He asks Aziza, "Might be easier to help get her situated." He beckons both to come with him towards the proper vendors to help get Frida into something more comfortable for the weather in Marsilikos.

*

'Sheer' is another word that baffles Frida - some words you just don't get taught on a ship. Words like 'suspiciously generous'. The offer is met with enough distrust that Frida just happens to rest her hand on the hilt of her tied blade, eyes narrowing slightly. Surely, it's a ruse to lure her off to rob her. Or worse. "You are too kind. What do you want?" Coarse, ill-mannered and not about to be taken adventage of because she's foreign amd struggles with the language. Even Aziza is included in those looks as she takes the pair in, and the retinue traveling with them - calculating odds and finding not in her favor

*

Aziza looks to Gauge and smiles as she hears those words. "I wouldn't even know where to begin to be honest, Baron…." A wink is given to her but then she looks back to the woman. Her guards had already noticed the change in her demeanor, those hands moves to their curved swords upon their hips. Aziza's eyes go wide as she frowns at them, speaking harshly in her native tongue at time which causes them to relax only slightly. Her hand moves to her side then as she frowns at the two men before looking back to Friday. "We don't want anything. I just know what it's like to be somewhere new is all…." She steps back to give the woman space as she nods. "We can leave you be if you wish. I know you look uncomfortable in all of the leather is all…."

*

"Seeing you naked would be nice, but I'm patient." Gauge says with a slight roll of his shoulders and he continues on towards the silk vendor though and looks at the colors available. "Anything after that would just be a bonus." He rumbles and then looks at Frida again, checking the colors she's wearing before he looks back towards the silk. "That's just what I /want/ but the clothes are free. No strings attached." He then adds, "I am Gauge d'Eresse, Captain of La Silverback, and the Baron de Beaucare." The Baron continues looking at silks then points out some white silk, "A light blouse in her size." He head nods towards Frida, "And two more, one in red and one in blue." He considers, "Black silk pants, and a long skirt." One thing Gauge is obviously not, is shy.

*

Frida purses her lips, studying the two before nodding slightly. "It is custom here?" she asks, finding a use for that uneasy energy and vigorously stuffing her heavy leather cloak into her pack so it is easier to carry. Once it is tucked away, she hefts the pack and the shield, settling both to her back with ease - not bothered by the weight of her belongings.

"Naked? No. I do not think…" She motions towards the scar face, then lifts a shoulder in a shrug. For a Skald, she's quite pretty, but by the standards of the Scions, she's plain and roughened. Gauge's order for clothing once more falls outside her simple understanding of the language. "I do not have…" she trails and digs a few coins out of her pocket. "I need to, ahhh…" Words are hard and she seems frustrated before she pats the worn sheath of the sword at her hip. "Can fight. For…" The few coins are jingled on her palm, hoping the meaning is clear enough.

*

Aziza just smirks as she hears Gauge and just shakes her head. Looking to her guards, she speaks to them in Manekhetan again before they hesitantly start to walk way from the trip. Exhaling she simply leaves the Baron to his happing before she turns to a stall of her own. Looking over the fabrics, they were a bit more ornate and patterned. Pursing her lips, those eyes narrow in thought as she seems to be considering. What /would/ she look like in a dress of their style. However her attentions turns back to Frida and chuckles. "No….he's buying them for you as a gift….a present. Consider it a welcome to the city via the Baron….." A wink is given to her then as she looks back to the fabric that had caught her attention.

*

Gauge doesn't even use coin, he just signs a receipt that will be taken to the bank and money will be doled out as necessary. So much easier, and safer, than carrying coin! Looking over towards Frida he asks, "Why not? Variety is the spice of life." His rough voice a bit lighter with curiosity. "Suit yourself." He smiles wryly and looks back towards the seamstress at the stall with a nod. "She will measure you." He gestures towards the seamstress and then holds out his arm, "Show her." So that his arm can be measured appropriately. Then he points at Frida, then to the seamstress, "To make sure clothes fit." He smiles and nods then goes to see what Aziza is up to. "I like that one with the gold filligree." He points towards a pale opaline cloth with gold filligree, "I think you would look beautiful in it."

*

Jehan-Pascal has finally had cause of heat to shed his favored woolen tunic, and comes into more of a flower of his beauty in the summer sun. While not bare waist-up, his own soft-billowing silk is open at the fore enough that it's a sort of six of one situation. The wilk is white against the stark midnight blue of a finely tailored pair of trousers that button in silver below the knee and reveal a lighter grey-blue set of silk stockings below, ending with a pair of fine black shoes with a slight heel that pushes him just past six feet in height. He makes his way from a cartographer's shop without anything to show for it and welcomes the cool breeze through the porticos, half-closing his eyes and lingering there in the shade for a short while, then opening them again, by chance inspired to regard the gathering nearby, by the stalls of fabrics. He hangs back for a moment before stepping between the columns to brave the sun and see the fabrics gleaming in the sunshine.

*

Reassured by Aziza's promise that it is a gift, Frida caves. The heat is oppressive and her clothing far too heavy for the weather. "I do not know you." Comes the reply to the ongoing banter about getting naked. Stepping to the seamstress, she sets her pack and shield down and stretches her arms out to be measured by the woman for the clothing. Words trip her up once more and she fumbles about in search of the right ones. Or what she thinks are the right ones. "It is good. Pleasant?" But tuen Gauge is moving off and she turns her attention to the seamstress and her measurements for blouses, skirt, and trousers. Working her awkward way through a discussion about her armor and the shirts that Gauge is having made. Trying to find out if the light silk will hold up to be layered with the hardened, tooled leather.

*

Aziza slowly looks over to Gauge and chuckles a bit. "I wouldn't even know where to begin with such a fabric, my lord…." Smirking she looks back to it, her hand touching it slightly. "I think it's a bit extravagant for a foreign ambassador…don't you think?" Exhaling she looks around to se the man nearing them now. A smile tugs at her lips as she gives him a bow of her head. "Good morning….." Those kohl lined eyes seem to observe him, more of habit than anything else before she looks back over to Frida. "Oh…that's right. He just called me Aziza….I'm Ambassador Aziza Nimr of Menekhet….and I don't think we quite caught your name?"

*

"I don't think it's extravagant at all." Gauge rumbles in his gravelly deep voice, "If you are going to be wearing a dress in our style it will be for a special occassion hmm? So you would want to look your best." He smiles wryly at Aziza, his attention turning towards the newest arrival who also gets a polite nod before he looks back towards the fabrics. "You should always be wearing gold Aziza, and if I can provide it… I will." He smiles fondly at the Menekhet Ambassador and reaches up to brush fingertips along her cheek and hair before he gives her a soft kiss. Public displays of affection are not off the board either, for the bold Baron de Beaucare.
Looking back over towards Frida, Gauge comments, "There is only one way to get to know us then, isn't there?" He smiles crookedly at Frida, "You won't need armor while walking down the street either." He opines. "Armor is hot too. Even with silks underneath that armor will cook you when summer comes."

*

Jehan-Pascal is drawn to dark colors, even in this heat. It stands to reason— he looks good in black, and iron, and the darker shades of blue, and he has enough general fashion sense to know what colors flatter him. A brocade of iron grey with a simple scrollwork would make him swelter, but he fingers it anyway, feeling its weight with a light heft of fingers behind the warp, keeping tabs on the others in the periphery of his attention. His subtle invasion is marked by Aziza, first, and he dips his chin in a casual replacement for a bow when she introduces herself. "Ambassador," he issues her title, polite until invited to be elsewise, but neither does the le Baron's demonstrative and easy manner bother him. Gauge's remarks about the armor being needless form a well enough excuse for Jehan-Pascal to abandon the brocade and look back over his shoulder to where Frida is being measured up. "It may be a bit much for the season," he agrees, "But you do radiate an admirable aura of being ready for anything. Is there a battle somewhere you're thinking of joining?" he asks, in earnest, not making fun— just wondering gently about the gear.

*

"Frida Gunnvor." More follows, but it's on her native language, guttural and harsh. "It is good, Aziza." Still struggling against her limitations, but unafraid of making the effort or of seeming a fool. "More than naked, Gauge." Frida chides, eyeing the man before laughing, the sound robust and hearty. "Need armor, fight." As if Gauge couldn't put that together. Or maybe his sword is worn for show. "Hot is not dead." she adds, shaking herself out after the measurements are taken and offering another of those distorted mumblings of gratitude to the woman before grabbing her pack and settling it to her shoulders again, her shield resting over it.

"Ready, yes. Fight make…" once more the sparse allotment of coins are fetched from a pocket and jingled in Jehan's direction. There's not enough there to draw much attention.

*

Aziza smiles as she nods then. "You do have a point. I'm not sure where such an event would take place however…" A pause then as she looks over at him then. "….why always gold? Silver is pretty too…." Chuckling softly she then looks up to him, those eyes closing briefly as she returns that kiss. Pulling back she clears her throat slightly as she looks back to Jehan and Frida. "I believe she is just arriving….I know how that goes." A beat. "Nice to meet you, Frida." At the mention of fighting she chuckles as she glances to Gauge. "She reminds me of Nazir….ready to fight as you can see from earlier…."

*

"Because you look good in gold Aziza." Gauge rumbles, "Silver is… not as good a match for you." In his opinion anyways, "Mmmm yes, but armor is not always the best thing to wear in a fight, heat can kill just as well as a sword or an arrow. Fall overboard wearing armor and you drown." He shrugs slightly and then looks at Frida, "So you fight for money then?" He nods, "I can respect that. A good mercenary is hard to find sometimes." He studies Frida for a few moments, "We will have to fight. If you are good enough to impress me I can find work for you." He tells Frida with a nod. "But in this city, you will need to wear more than armor to fit in."

*

Jehan-Pascal's brows both loft in unison as he puts together Frida's pantomime, coming to understand her line of work about at a moment with Gague. "Your employer might see about a different sort of armor, as well," he appends delicately. He speaks a beat more slowly than he usually would. Not insultingly so, just enough to see whether the words have any resonance with the foreigner. "A light chain, perhaps, would be less oppressive in the heat. Our own city guard is armed in a light chain compounded with bands of plate. With some light, loose linen underneath it would stifle you somewhat less even than silk," he tilts his head to see what Gauge might answer to such a suggestion, since he's further in the know on these matters than he is.

*

"Nasir?" Frida asks, drifting towards the group in the natural way one will do when curious and conversing. The men seem to get it and she bobs her head in a vigorous nod. "Mercenary." Clumsily parroting the word. An unfortunate ways away from being fluent or casually comfortable with the language. "Ship docked." using the sun amd her hands, she tries to describe how long ago she arrived - and it isn't terribly long at all. Sweating, she uses her hand to wipe away the gathered perspiration from her brow. Roasting in her armor and thick fabric of her tunic and the leather of her trousers. Caving, she unlaces the heavy leather breast plate and pauldrons, wriggling out of the stifling layer. As much of a concession to Gauge being right as he's liable to get. "Chain armor?" this is puzzling.

*

Aziza nods to Gauge then. "Well then…gold it is." Looking to the vendor, she motions to the gold fabric. "I suppose I will take….the whole bolt of this. I will see about a design of a gown fitting for myself….." Taking a deep breath she looks over to Frida with a smile. "Yes…one of my guards that was here. You saw how quick they were…." Pausing she then shrugs a bit. "The Baron here suggests that I get armor of d'Angeline style. I am an archer when I do get to do so…." At that she looks around then. "….where does one /find/ such things now that I'm thinking about it…."

*

"We will have to go to an armorer and have it made for you Aziza. It would be a combination of chain and leather." Gauge rumbles, with a nod towards what Jehan-Pascal has said, "But without the steel bands. The chainmail allows more flexibility than hardened leathers and better protection too but is slightly heavier overall." At Frida's comment of the ship being docked Gauge chuckles towards her, watching her get out of the stiffling leather with clear interest in what is beneath it. "I have many ships. Ships that hunt pirates. Fighting from one ship to another." he explains to her. "Armor is not worn around the city most of the time. The guard keeps people safe." He explains, "If I were to hire you for a bodyguard or some such I would have to get you custom armor made so as to not…" He pauses, "Stand out, and to be more comfortable here."

*

Jehan-Pascal is content enough to let Gauge explain the notion of chain mail in a more facile way than he could probably manage, only subtly nodding his concurrance while going half back to glancing disinterestedly at the fabrics. "You came in this morning?" he chimes back in with a rhetorical question, since he knows that the answer is yes— it merely serves to introduce his next observation: "Do you already have employment lined up here? It's a long way to come on a hope," he speaks quietly, pale neck arced, head bowed and glancing back and to the side while he ignores the materials through which he's ostensibly shopping.

*

Frida snorts! "Stand out." she says, then laughs. There's no way she won't stand out, really. Between the accent and clothing or the scar on her face that mars what would be a pretty face. "Armor, face. All stand out." she says with a shake of her head. "No." The answer for Jehan almost curt as she chuffs out the syllable. "Hope? Yes. It is…" More of a story than she has words for and frustrating. Waving it off, for now, she lifts her shoulders in a shrug. Sadly, for Gauge, without the armor to snug the tunic to her, it's shapeless and does little to help his imagination.

*

Aziza scrunches her nose. "Chain and leather? Hmm…." Pursing her lips she's in though but nods. "I guess I can….figure that out later too." Bringing her fingers to her lips, she lets out a whistle before continuing. "I need to look at some gowns here I suppose…." As that fabric is bundled up for her, it is like perfect timing as those large Menekhet men reappear. They never seem to go too far even when she sends them off. Handing of that bundle she smiles to the taller one as she murmurs to him in Menekhetan, her head nodding in the direction of the palace. At that she looks back to the others as that conversation continues. For now she simply listens.

*

"Well yes, you stand out now. A bathe, a hair brush, a proper change of clothes." Gauge reaches up with one hand to rub the very visible scar along his neck that gave him his beautiful singing voice. "You'd not stand out as much as you think." He rumbles in that gravelly rough voice of his before he nods towards Aziza, "If you like we can go to an armorer and I'll show you what I mean. We could always have a conversation about what you feel would protect you most while sacrificing the least amount of mobility and flexibility." He tells the Menekhet Ambassador. He looks over towards the seamstress who had been measuring Frida up for the outfits once the armor was out of the way. "Do you have a room yet in the city Frida?" He asks her curiously.

*

At the curt answer, Jehan-Pascal averts his eyes back to attending the cloth, abandoning the brocade for something more apt for the summer, a nice, sturdy reinforced linen in a dark forest green. It doesn't stop him, though, from answering back with a quietly voiced, "… a long story?" when she fumbles for words. He can only imagine her frustration— but he isn't at all insensitive to it. Rather sympathetic, in a quiet, demure sort of manner. "There are some decent rooms to let for a song … that is, for very little money … in la rue d'Ardien, just past the citadel, if you'd care to stay close to the harbor." He glances briskly to Gauge and Aziza, then back to Frida, and back to the Baron and Ambassador once again, "But if the Baron means to take you on, I'm sure he will make arrangement for your accomodation." A pause, a breath, held just longer than one normall would between breathing and speaking, as though some self-editing were in progress. "Or whomever you discover, else, likewise."

*

There's no room in the pack for the hardened leather armor, so it leans against Frida's leg. The pack stays on her, the shield adding weight to it. She's standing with Gauge, Aziza, and Jehan, sweating in the heat, though removing the leather armor has helped a fair bit. When Aziza's guard arrive, she tries to guess which one is Nazir, studying each of the men in turn. Gauge gets another snorty-scoff from her. She's clean! Mostly. Just some ship-stink. It could be worse. Grumbling faintly, she fluffs the tunic and tries to cool herself a bit. "Yes. Long story." she echoes, nodding to Jehan-Pascal. He gets it. %r%r"No room." That funny pause catches her attention, the Skald rather observant. An eyebrow arches as she glances from face to face before looking back at Jehan. "You sick?" she asks, miming throwing up, in case it wasn't clear.

*

Aziza nods to her companion in the market, a hand moving to his harm as she nods. "No rush. I doubt I'll be needing armor anytime soon….and I have mine…." Which she knows he thinks is a joke but oh well. Taking a deep breath she smiles to the other foreign woman and nods. "It's okay to stand out. I do…." A wink is given to her then. "My arrival caused quite a stir as well….so it was hard for me to lay low after that…." Chuckling a bit she just stares for a moment. "So….are you just….traveling or are you like me and on a diplomatic mission….?" A tilt of her head as he looks over to Jehan then. "I"m sorry….we're here just chatting away….and I didn't catch your name…."

*

"I think she came for the hope of a change in life, and to find work doing what she likes." Gauge rumbles, "Which is apparently fighting." He chuckles and then looks back towards the various stalls and heads over towards one that is selling fruit. He starts rifling through the pieces being offered, "Well of course, if she were under my employ I would ensure she was granted full room and board, meals, and a proper wage for the services rendered." He shrugs one bare shoulder, "But I think she doesn't want to work for me." He tsks faintly as he comes up with a few good pears. Offering one to Aziza, and then Frida, and then JP before he takes a bite of the juicy thing. "You'll have to come back to pick up the clothes if you don't have a room for them to send it to, Frida."

*

Jehan-Pascal eventually nods to the man manning the fabric station, taking several yards of the fabric and intending to take it to his own preferred tailor, thus making measurements needless. Damn his standing here in the sun all this time getting the man's hopes up— he felt obligagted to buy something, at last. But he has a fancy in his mind for a nice light linen jacket to do him the summer when he can't stand the wool of his tunic. "Sick?" he asks, features drawing swiftly pale as if to corroborate the fact. "Ah— no, shouldn't think so," he denies being so, but meekly, as though he may somehow be persuaded that he is wrong, if someone saw to doing so. "If you'd like, I can have your pieces delivered— well, not along with mine. But to mine. If you'd like," he repeats. He's usually a full standard deviation more eloquent than he is now. Perhaps the poor man is sober. "Ah— thank you," there's a pear to save the day and give his mouth something less harmful to do than speaking. "Jehan-Pascal Aumande," he answers Aziza, "de Baphinol," for fams, he adds, while polishing the pear gamely on a trouser leg.

*

Frida rubs her face with her free hand, trying to think of the words to answer Aziza's questions. "I.. hunt?" she ventures, thinking before glancing around and grimacing. No dirt to draw in. There goes that idea! Instead, she pantomimes looking around. More is lost to language issues and the frustration builds more before it's let out with a sharp bark of laughter at Gauge's expense. "Not naked." Though, she pauses, eyeing the man. "Fight naked?" Not like she knows the local traditions!

Gaze flicking back to Jehan-Pascal, she tilts her head. "Sick." No one would ever seem so guilty unless they were trying to hide a thing accused of. She leans to prod at Jehan's stomach, pokepoke. "Sick like ship?" Since Gauge would know, she nods to him. "Ship sick?" C'mon, Captain, let's play doctor with poor Jehan!

*

"What? Oh no. The naked bit is just me appreciating a naked woman." Gauge tells Frida with a shrug, "Fighting without armor though? That can happen." He then looks over at Jehan-Pascal, shrugs, "If he's sick he should see a healer." Apparently, Gauge is not the ships doctor, nor is he particularly concerned about that. "I do need to run though." He turns back towards Aziza and gives her another kiss in apparent goodbye. "I will see you later I am sure, it was, well, interesting to meet you Frida. If you find yourself running low on coin, send me a message or stop by the d'Eresse Townhouse and ask for me."

*

Aziza nods slowly to Frida. "So….just a hunter on the go…" Smiling she clasps her hands in front of her then as she nods. "That sounds like fun to be honest." Hearing Gauge's words, she turns to him then as she nods to him. Returning that kiss she smiles as she bids him farewell before let her gaze linger on him leaving before looking back to the two that remain. "A pleasure to meet you Jehan-Pascal….Aziza…though you seem to have heard the ambassador section." A bow of her head as she holds that pear that was passed to her but she simply holds onto it for now. Looking to Frida she chuckles then. "I do not think he means fight naked in public…." A smile as she just tucks some of her stray dark hair into place. "But…yes. Just as the gentleman offered, I can have it sent to my suite at the palace as well if you wish as well. I know where the Baron's Townhouse is so if you need to go by there, I would be happy to escort you there."

*

Jehan-Pascal isn't sick— and maybe is a little put off by being discussed in the third person. The hand not holding the pear moves down to gently guide the finger away from his torso, not quite a swat, just a subtle re-location, before he hides his empty hand back behind his back, edging a half-step back until he's arrested by the stall behind him. "I'm not sea-sick," he helpfully offers her up the terminology she's looking for, "I'm— I'm fine, thank you," he glances shyly aside. "I'd better go and dress for tonight's festivities," he looks to excuse himself from between the market stall and the huntress. But he can't quite move. "Will I see yourself and the Baron present, Ambassador?"

*

It certainly poses a problem, doesn't it? Having no address to send the finished clothing to. At a bit of a loss, Frida nods to Aziza, not wholly certain what the word for Palace means, but she'll surely find out soon enough! Stopped from poking at Jehan's mid-section, Frida shrugs slightly, then nods to the man, reaching to grab the leather armor from where it leans against her leg and sliding her forearm through the armpits of the armor so it hangs neatly by the shoulder pieces from her arm. For the moment, she seems to have given up on words - those are proving more troublesome than they're worth, in terms of frustration.

*

One of the market stalls open today seems to be fairly new. Its a colorful thing this stall, made of oak wood that seems to have been hand carved and painted a vivid meadow green with yellow, blue and purple butterflies on its sides. A awning of lavender and and sky blue cloth shades the area around it and gives the little stall a further splash of color to draw the eyes. The wares for sale seem to be various, though most seem to fall under a varity of woodworks or porcelain dolls of intricate design. There are hand carved wooden boxes and flutes with etched designs on thier surfaces, ornamental animals carved from wood, bracelets and necklaces made of colorful wooden beads and many other pretty things in addition to the dolls that sit prettily on the stall, their handmade dresses all done in the lastest d'Angeline fashions. Nevermind that the woman manning the counter is most certainly not d'Angeline. Vira almost looks like one of the dolls she sells due to her frail and delicate appearance, however there is a kneen sharpness to her eyes as she watches and attempts to beckon those who might be interested over towards her wares.

*

Aziza finally takes a bite of that pear, her hand going to her mouth as she chews before she finally speak up in response to that question from Jehan-Pascal. "Oh! I am not sure. I'm still new to these types of things and I do not think I will go this time. I have nothing to wear and I'm sure I'd have to go with someone. As for the Baron, I am not sure. I'm not sure of his intentions of attending this debut." Smiling she seems to be in thought. "I believe we may be at the masque at Rose Sauvage how ever…' At that she then looks to Frida. "Do you wish to keep walking with me. I'm afraid I do not know your language or else I would converse with you in that. I still have a lot of them I am working on perfecting…." A warm smile is given to her before she looks around and spotting that stall. Her kohl lined eyes seems to light up as sees the wares, making her way over slightly since it's not far from where they were standing. The Menekhet woman lets her gaze land upon some of the wooden boxes.

*

Jehan-Pascal nods to Aziza, leaves his own address for the green fabric and slips away while Frida is distracted. Muahaha.

*

Jehan leaves and Frida watches him go, brows furrowed before she nods to Aziza, falling in a little bit behind the Ambassador as she heads to the new looking booth. Thinking, quiet for the moment, she studies the dolls and their fancy clothing, then lets out a quiet sigh. "Jehan mad, I think. If sick, need.." her face scrunches up as she tries to remember the word that Gauge used. "Healer." Nevermind her totally invasive poking at his midsection. Grumbling faintly, she shakes her head. "Not help." She decides, exhaling slowly as she moves to a corner of the booth and leans to inspect the details on one of the dolls. Even the children's toys in this strange place are exquisite!

*

Vira smiles warmly as Aziza makes her way over to where she is selling her wares. "Greetings and well met to you my Lady. Please take a look at whatever catches your eyes. I also do custom work on occasion if its requested." The woman in her white dress and golden coin jewlery looks a bit out of place but she seems comfortable enough. The boxes on display are all of different woods, there are three altogether. The lightest is made of a pale champage colored wood with engravings of ships, whales, and other nautical themed items. Another is crafted from a warm hued medium wood and is carved with various forest imagery, trees and animals and birds. The final box on display is made of ebony wood dark as night, flying ravens carved lightly onto its lid as it sits on the claw shaped feet that rest at its base. As Frida looks the dolls over Vira offers her a smile as well. "Do you like them? They are some of my best works yet I think." Indeed the dolls are pretty, their porcelain faces shaped to look practically human complete with what looks like real hair. There are several of these as well, a red haired doll with freckles, two blonde haired dolls and a raven haired doll all dressed in pretty gowns with their hair styled. They look to have taken a great deal of time to make.

*

Aziza shakes her head to Frida. "I think he was just hungover….um…." She'd seem to think. "Had too much to drink the night before an maybe paying for it?" Laughing she looks back to the woman and bows her head. "Thank you. And…." Her eyes fall upon that box with ships then. A look of contemplations crosses her features then. "That box with the ships upon it….I think I will purchase that one…." Looking to the guard that was still there since the taller Menekhet guard had left, she hold out her hand for a coin purse. "I know someone that it would be perfect for. I'm not sure what to put inside it however…."

*

Frida oh's, nodding her understanding to Aziza and making a disapproving expression in the direction that Jehan went. She reaches as if to touch the doll, then falters, and pulls her hand back, straightening. "It is good." she murmurs in her clumsy way with the words of the new language. For Aziza, she smiles and sidles up to her, tapping the box with a finger. "You." Having an inkling of who it may be for, she taps at Aziza's chest, then the box again. "/You/." Fighting hard against the language barrier, bound and determined to win against it.

*

Aziza looks over to Frida before raises a brow. "Me?" Looking to the box then back to the woman she chuckles. "Oh no no. It's not for me. It's for a…." A pause as she furrows her brows but clears her throat. "Someone close to me." Chuckling she just looks to the box for a moment longer before turning to look over towards her fully now. "Would you like me to practice the language with you?"

*

Frida mms, nodding. "Is for Captain. Gift, yes?" she says, motioning the directiont hat Gauge went, then once more tapping Aziza's chest, if allowed. "You. In."the box is tapped again. The concept simple, and sweet, but relaying the idea is proving difficult. Frustrated, she scrubs at her face with her hand before taking a breath. "Yes. Words. More words." she says quietly.

*

Aziza blushes just slightly as she seems to stand up straighter. "Oh yes…..it's for the Baron de Beaucare….." A raise of her brow as her chest is tapped but she just allows it. "Me…in the box?" That husky voice rings out in a laugh as she nods. "I….do not think I will fit in the box." A playful wink is given as she then exhales, a hand going to her chest. "Well then I will be happy to tutor….teach you further." A nod then. "Now….this idea. What do you mean…me in the box? Something of mine?"

*

"Not… all in." Frida says, motioning to the whole of Aziza's form. "This." There goes that chest tap again. "This in." She starts to say something, then sighs, thinking. Aziza IS getting closer to the idea, though. She sets her bag down and crouches to dig in it, pulling the heavy cloak out to get at the things beneath. Finding a small bit of wood carved into a child's toy - a horse, rubbed with ash to darken it, the shape crude and the carving dinged up and clearly old and special to have come with her. Standing up, she shows the old toy to Aziza, then taps it against her own chest. She doesn't offer the toy, of course, but taps the box. "Aziza have…?" she asks, tapping her chest with the old toy once more. "For in?" Something precious, special, loved.

*

Aziza furrows her brow in thought then as she watches her. "My heart…?" She watches her take out that toy, those eyes seem to be curious as she look that toy over. A smile slowly tugs as she watches her motions then. "….oh!" She seems to think then. "I….I think all of that is back in Menekhet but…." A beat. "I might have one thing….I can put in there."

*

Frida's grin is huge and bright, though hindered by the scarring at the corner of her mouth. The little toy horse is stashed back in her bag, then the cloak stuffed inside again before she slings the bag and shield onto her back again. "Yes. You. In. Gift Captain, you." She's quite pleased that the idea has been taken to. "Is good, yes?" she asks, picking her armor back up and glancing around the marketplace.

*

Aziza smiles brightly then as she bows to the woman, her hand coming up in a fist to her chest as she does so. "Thank you. I will definitely take that suggestion." Standing up straight she looks back to that box with a smile. "I hope he will like it. I'm not sure he is one of those…types…."

*

Vira smiles brightly when Aziza says she wants the box. "Of course my Lady." She picks up the box off her stall and carefully offers it to the guard once it has been paid for. "Thank you for your business. If there is anything else you need please return and me seek out hmmm? My name is Vira by the way its a pleasure to meet you both." Her gaze flicks to the toy horse and she blinks before smiling at Frida. "I have made a few of those myself. Do you carve as well?"

*

"He like Aziza. Is.." Hnngh. Frida scrunches her face up, searching for the right word. Eventually she stumbles on it and grins. "Is /special/. Aziza is special. Will like." she promises to the Ambassador, pausing to look over at Vira. "Gift." But the giver of it is a painful topic, judging by the wince and how quickly the smile disappears. "When small." she says, holding a hand out to give indication of a young age when she received it.

*

Aziza nods to Vira in thanks as she makes sure things are all paid and handled. "Thank you so much. And nice to meet you. I am Aziza…." Smiling brightly she then motions to the woman at her side. "And this is Frida." She look over to her new companion it seems and nods. "I…perhaps. We are fond of each other yes…" Chuckling she just pushes her long hair out of her face before looking back to Vira once more. "So! I know I am new here but I have yet to see your stall. New in the past couple of weeks or so?"

*

Vira gives Frida a look of understanding and nods slowly. Looking to Aziza she tilts her head and smiles warmly. "Fairly new yes. My family traveled through, they left but I decided to stay. That was a couple days ago now. Its nice not having four brothers hovering and nagging you. I love them all but gracious…I don't know how my mother did it." She may be leaving something out there, a partial truth of sorts but she doesn't seem to be outright lying either. She fixes Aziza witha curious look. "Where are you from if I may ask Lady Aziza? Your accent is lovely but unfamiliar. My family has only traveled the roads of Terre d'Ange since I was born…"

*

Frida listens in, trying to pick up the cadence of the tones in Vira's speech - a native speaker better for that, no matter how flawlessly Aziza might speak it. While she eavesdrops, she studies the details in those lovely dolls, leaning in without touching to take in what seems to be the latest fashion in the different gowns.

*

Aziza smiles as she seems to been thought. "I see…siblings…." There's a look there. "Must be nice…." Clearing her throat she then nods. "I am from Menekhet. I am the ambassador for the Pharaoh but my trip has been a bit…delayed. I had to come here instead of going to Elua where I was heading. However this city is beautiful and it has been a wonderful retreat of sorts." A playful wink is given to her before she looks to Frida. "Do you like them? I can get you one if you wish…."

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