RP: Shopping

The door to the Prestigious Moon opens... and Aznara steps in, alone. (She's apparently left her war golem bodyguard behind, this visit!) After she steps in, she gestures at the door, which closes gently behind her.

Sandy's shop is indeed open. She is grumbling as she works on a dress, sitting on the counter with a needle in her hands. "Feeeeh," she grumbles.

Aznara approaches Sandy. "Hello, again", she says, in the common 'trade' language, which she's found is most commonly used in Alexandria. "I do hope you recall who I am... I interviewed you and your wife, the other day, for the Tribune. I came by to look at your clothing, as I'd mentioned I might. Are you available to show me your wares?", she queries, offering a slight bow -- the kind of bow a mul of 'noble' blood might give to a proprietor of a business. Unintentionally or not, she just said "I'm of higher station than you are, but I'm here to buy things." Was it just habit, or was she really meaning it that way? She's young, for a mul, maybe halfway through her second century of life, so maybe she just doesn't realize what that sort of little bow can mean to someone who's seen it all their life, too?

And it's exatly that that has Sandy smirking. Because she is, after all, a member of the nobility, even if she's slumming by running her own clothing store, apparently. She puts one hand on the counter, leaning forward towards her. "I'm available enoiugh, at any rate. What exactly are you looking for?" She adjusts her coat. Which she is still wearing. Indoors.

"I'm... not sure, to be honest", says Aznara. "I was hoping to have something catch my eye, or find inspiration in what I see to ask for a possible design", she replies. Ah, a fairly typical response as might be given by a young noblewoman who's out shopping for clothing on her own. Her current clothing is definitely made by Underdark tailors... and it's looking a little tattered about the edges, too. She's looking to replace her old clothes with new stuff, because it's showing its age through wear and tear, despite being kept as well as Aznara's been able to keep it.

"I'm... not sure, to be honest", says Aznara. "I was hoping to have something catch my eye, or find inspiration in what I see to ask for a possible design", she replies. Ah, a fairly typical response as might be given by a young noblewoman who's out shopping for clothing on her own -- after a lifetime of never having had to shop for it on her own. Her current clothing is definitely made by Underdark tailors... and it's looking a little tattered about the edges, too. She's looking to replace her old clothes with new stuff, because it's showing its age through wear and tear, despite being kept as well as Aznara's been able to keep it.

"Do you want something in your...current styling?" says Sandy, giving her a critical eyeballing at her clothes. She may not approve of Shadow Elf tailors, really, or at least their designs. The Forest of Whispers and more are not condusive to things that aren't gossamer and see through, at times. She grumbles under her breath and ses the dress aside, moving to point towards a selection of frillier Myrrish dresses with corsets and bustles. "Or something like that?" She nods towards it.

"It need not be of this design, no... although something light and which will not constrict my movements is preferred, as I am a fencer and require freedom to move", she says. She eyes the corsets and bustles of the Myrrish designs, and shakes her head. "No... I fear such things would restrain me, make me unable to freely move about as needed."

"Something made from silk, then, perhaps? A silk brocade jacquard, perhaps?"She takes off her own coat for a moment and holds it up for her to display. "MIne isn't silk, but your's would be, I suppose." To be truthful, Sandy's build, her height, her size, all do not speak of her being a Dawn Elf. She's actually more than a little pudgy and lacks the willowy frame of her supposed race.

Aznara arches a brow, eyeing the clothing... and the woman wearing it. Sandy doesn't look -overweight- for a lyranesi... she just doesn't -look- lyranesi, at all. "Perhaps... what grades of silk do you have, here?", she asks in the Undercommon language, trying to not change her conversational tone, to see if she can get Sandy to reply either in like tongue, or to simply reply and show that she understand the language used. "I do like the cut, however... it'd likely be nearly as flattering on me", she adds.

And with that realization, Aznara /can/, suddenly, see through the disguise Sandy wears. That purple hair is all natural, for example, and her appearance is /muuuuch/ less than merely being a shadow elf. Her eyes are gold, slits through the middle like a serpent rather than a human's. Indeed, her fingers are capped with dark claws. Oh dear. She eyes her, thoughtfully. She can't really hide that she /understands/ her.

Azara's eyes widen a bit, and she takes a step back... and bows, again. This time, it's not the little half-bow she gave before. What she's seen... that's a mul of -power-, and she's showing, with the bow she's giving now, that she recognizes that. She's giving obiesence... and... more... she's -scared-, too. She clearly didn't expect to run into a mul woman of -this- kind of power, no matter where or why, and she, just as clearly, hasn't a clue what to do about it.

"Yes, dear," says Sandy, dryly, "I'm a Mul too. I'd appreciate it if you kept /that/ to yourself, since you've seen fit to look beyond the disguise. Now," she continues, "The jacket, with a simple blouse and padding you can wear armor over and then," she continues, "Trousers, of course." She drums her clawed fingertips on the table.

Aznara looks up just a little bit, still in her bow... and then, slowly, rises from it. "If you have reason to hide it, it's not my place to speak of it", she says, carefully choosing her words. Then, as the rest of Sandy's words sink in, she looks a little surprised. "I've... never worn trousers, before", she says -- the thought'd never occured to her that she could, apparently.

"Try some on," says Sandy, reaching for a pair that look like they should be /approximately/ her size. She throws it to her to catch and gestures towards the fitting area.

"Though... I won't need padding. I wear no armor", Aznara says, as she catches the trousers out of the air. "It'd interfere with my ... my magicks", she says, hoping -that- doesn't offend, not that she hadn't already shown she did magic, with her use of prestidigitations to take transcription during the interview, the other day.

"Ahhh," says Sandy, "Fair enough." She gives a nod of understanding. "Go change." She waits, patiently, for her to do that. She didn't give her a top to go with it, so mostly, it's just a chance for her to see what it looks like on her on her own.

Aznara nods and heads for the changing room. For a mul woman of such power that it shows like that, Sandy's... *not* acting the way Aznara's used to them acting. Confused by it, she just goes in to change into the trousers. Not long after, from inside the fitting area, she says, "They're a bit snug about the hips. I fear I might tear them if I were to move abruptly as I might need to. However, the waist and length seem to be good."

"Are you decent?" asks Sandy.

"No... I had to remove everything else to see these properly on myself", Aznara replies.

A cloth she can wrap around herself is thrown over, for decency's sake. Sandy waits for a moment.

"I'm covered, now", Aznara says after a few moments, having wrapped the cloth around her upper body like a shawl.

Sandy moves over to examine her trousers, then, and have a look. "They are a bit too tight, you're right. I'll make adjustments." She squints.

"How much would such as these cost? ... and for a blouse and jacket to match?", Aznara wonders.