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Into the New World, Chapter 1: Amongst the Verdant Towers
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<blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 3879192" data-attributes="member: 4936"><p>Erin was having a blast.</p><p></p><p>Oh, the beginning had been annoying. Her mother, Anka, had insisted she stay and help set the cart up. It was a simple wooden affair, drawn by Anka's tired old mule...good mainly as a showcase for the fabrics and dyes that Anka had made since the last festival. This year was bound to be good with the traded silk they'd dyed and prepared...it was beautiful stuff, soft and shiny and sleek...and it held dyes wonderfully. They had several squares of it now, edges neatly trimmed and hemmed and Erin, as much as she was fed up with the whole weaving thing, couldn't help but adore it. It was hard to imagine anyone wearing whole dresses made of the stuff though! The way even a square of it clung to the body made her think a whole dress would only be a step away from being naked. Which was kind of a naughtily entertaining thought.</p><p></p><p>Sadly, there wasn't enough for a whole dress.</p><p></p><p>She'd finally gotten away though, on the pretense that she'd advertise the silk while mingling and seeing the traveling merchants. To her credit, she did take her own bit of it. A humble square yard she'd worked very hard on to make a wildly multicolored dye on...twisting it and tying it, then untying it and dipping it again...to make the sheer fabric explode with reds and greens and blues and oranges. She then rolled it up and made a sash of sorts with it, tying it around her waist and letting flaps unfold down over her hips to add color to her white linen dress with its short sleeves and its slightly lower than Anka liked neckline. Thinking of that made her change her mind, and she undid the sash and made a sort of shawl with the silk, draping it around her neck and shoulders. Versatile stuff.</p><p></p><p>The square was alive with people, yelling and shouting and waving, pushing and shoving and buying and selling. It was madness. Erin loved it. A boy bumped her as he dashed past, with another, larger one in hot pursuit. The larger one turned and stared at her for a moment, and she stared back with a challenging little smile. His cheeks reddened, and he stammered an apology before darting away again. Erin chuckled. It wasn't that she was interested in him as such...but she enjoyed those brief encounters, the meeting of eyes, the blush...there was a sense of power in those moments. If she'd asked him to dance, would he have? She thought so. If she'd asked him to recite poetry, or to bring her something...would he? Most likely. It was heady, and a relief from the endless monotony of weaving and dying...cutting and sewing.</p><p></p><p>She fancied herself a gypsy wanderer as she circled the merchant wagon, with brightly colored garb and full of dark, mysterious allure. She wrapped the silk around her face as a veil and gave smoldering glances around freely, but not for long. Even the fun of flirting couldn't last long in the face of hearing stories from Outside. Outside the village, Outside the WORLD as far as Erin knew. Seeing wondrous things they had as well, yes.</p><p></p><p>One day she'd see them for herself, not dangling from some fat man's hand, but up close and personally. For now, she'd be content to spend her sizeable savings, and dream her sizeable dreams.</p><p></p><p>(Erin has moved from the weaver's cart to the traveling merchant. She's still kind of on the outskirts of the crowd though, looking for an opening. Between her hair and the colored silk, she should be easy to spot if anyone wants to, otherwise I'll go on. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" />)</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Shayuri, post: 3879192, member: 4936"] Erin was having a blast. Oh, the beginning had been annoying. Her mother, Anka, had insisted she stay and help set the cart up. It was a simple wooden affair, drawn by Anka's tired old mule...good mainly as a showcase for the fabrics and dyes that Anka had made since the last festival. This year was bound to be good with the traded silk they'd dyed and prepared...it was beautiful stuff, soft and shiny and sleek...and it held dyes wonderfully. They had several squares of it now, edges neatly trimmed and hemmed and Erin, as much as she was fed up with the whole weaving thing, couldn't help but adore it. It was hard to imagine anyone wearing whole dresses made of the stuff though! The way even a square of it clung to the body made her think a whole dress would only be a step away from being naked. Which was kind of a naughtily entertaining thought. Sadly, there wasn't enough for a whole dress. She'd finally gotten away though, on the pretense that she'd advertise the silk while mingling and seeing the traveling merchants. To her credit, she did take her own bit of it. A humble square yard she'd worked very hard on to make a wildly multicolored dye on...twisting it and tying it, then untying it and dipping it again...to make the sheer fabric explode with reds and greens and blues and oranges. She then rolled it up and made a sash of sorts with it, tying it around her waist and letting flaps unfold down over her hips to add color to her white linen dress with its short sleeves and its slightly lower than Anka liked neckline. Thinking of that made her change her mind, and she undid the sash and made a sort of shawl with the silk, draping it around her neck and shoulders. Versatile stuff. The square was alive with people, yelling and shouting and waving, pushing and shoving and buying and selling. It was madness. Erin loved it. A boy bumped her as he dashed past, with another, larger one in hot pursuit. The larger one turned and stared at her for a moment, and she stared back with a challenging little smile. His cheeks reddened, and he stammered an apology before darting away again. Erin chuckled. It wasn't that she was interested in him as such...but she enjoyed those brief encounters, the meeting of eyes, the blush...there was a sense of power in those moments. If she'd asked him to dance, would he have? She thought so. If she'd asked him to recite poetry, or to bring her something...would he? Most likely. It was heady, and a relief from the endless monotony of weaving and dying...cutting and sewing. She fancied herself a gypsy wanderer as she circled the merchant wagon, with brightly colored garb and full of dark, mysterious allure. She wrapped the silk around her face as a veil and gave smoldering glances around freely, but not for long. Even the fun of flirting couldn't last long in the face of hearing stories from Outside. Outside the village, Outside the WORLD as far as Erin knew. Seeing wondrous things they had as well, yes. One day she'd see them for herself, not dangling from some fat man's hand, but up close and personally. For now, she'd be content to spend her sizeable savings, and dream her sizeable dreams. (Erin has moved from the weaver's cart to the traveling merchant. She's still kind of on the outskirts of the crowd though, looking for an opening. Between her hair and the colored silk, she should be easy to spot if anyone wants to, otherwise I'll go on. :)) [/QUOTE]
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