|
Post by Naomi Verre de Forgernon (I) on May 15, 2008 22:59:39 GMT -5
Inside the gaffing room, the air was hot but not to the point of being oppressive. That was the kiln room, where the sand was actually heated to glass and where most of her work occured. She wouldn't subject the poor man to that. Not if she wanted to keep him upright. With the wine flowing freely through my veins, I knew that it could only get worse if the heat sped it through to my brain. "It is better than good. It is my life." And to me, it was.
Along the walls were sedate figures in glass, some of them seemed mysical and others whimsical. A master had surely had a hand in their construction because the details were so fine that one could almost feel the texture of skin, hair and clothing. Yet she drew away from them, instead offering something else. "This is my work." They were all bold, from the first face to the last trace of what could only be deemed of as breath. Figures that were at one point garish, yet primitively evocative in their pose and coloring. It was as if men and women wore masque's or were those animals wearing the masque's of people? Shockingly intimate, each seemed to be based on some sin or some perceived event of the past. There were even a few representations of the Night Court, marque's stylized into breathing creations in glass.
Stepping back, I let him look them over and smiled at each knowing that I had left a piece of myself in them in some fashion or another.
|
|
|
Post by Jareth d’Aiglemort on May 15, 2008 23:15:49 GMT -5
I stepped forward and looked at each piece in kind. The heat from the kiln room did not bother me as I was accustomed to the battle field or the practice field. Even though my land is known for its cold the heat comes in the summer and I have yet to walk a field where steel was tested that did not have its own heat even on the coldest day. I was affraid to touch any of them less my clumsy fingers break them. Instead I shifted my angles to look at each in a different way.
She was clearly blessed and one could see where she got her inspiration. Mostly from the things she saw around her in her day to day life. Indeed that was the very essence of a blessed life doing what one loved to earn their living. "I can see that as well as tell it from your work. You are a very passionate woman."
I then turned and faced her and inclined my head "Yes, I suspect that me sponsoring you would not be a bad investment. Not to mention you are more than pleasant company. I only hope we are both pleased with the implementation of the idea as much as we are with the idea its self." I did not really see anything that would be a problem with the arrangements we had discussed, but as they say the devil is in the details and one never really knows until they get into an enterprise.
|
|
|
Post by Naomi Verre de Forgernon (I) on May 15, 2008 23:34:46 GMT -5
Outwardly no doubt I looked as if I hadn't a worry or care in the world and yet inside I fairly trembled. If he did not think my work worth his gold then I was well and truly sunk. He said he knew not much of art, but that was what I wanted in my patron. I wanted the raw eye of one who wasn't used to the smooth and gilded edges of fashion or art to be the one who gave them their objectivity. Some callow lordling with their uppity ways wasn't about to step foot into my studio! I didn't care if he'd found Azza's treasures. "What passion I have, goes into the glass. What is left, is enough to make sure I still breath." And eat, and sleep of course. Among all the other little details.
"I shall endeavor to remain pleasant company while in your presence. I can not guarantee it, since I am a bear when disturbed in the midst of a creation." Twilight eyes laughed, and I let him see the humor in it however dark it might be if he should disturb me. "I think that we can come to a mutually satisifying agreement my lord Duc." I who wouldn't know a scam from three feet away was certainly not the one to be unwise with the man's money. But he had it, and I didn't. He wanted something of me, and I of him. It was mutual. After a fashion.
|
|
|
Post by Jareth d’Aiglemort on May 15, 2008 23:42:17 GMT -5
"I shall endeavor not to disturb you then" I walked toward her and extended my hand "it is a deal then?" In my world a handshake was good enough to cement such things. Though I knew many of the peerage needed to be watched much closer than that. I did not judge Naomi to be one of those that needed such watching. Besides I was always better with the salt of the earth types. Elua knows my dear departed cousin got in way over his head while trying to deal in circles he was not suited to and now we all bore his shame for eternity.
|
|
|
Post by Naomi Verre de Forgernon (I) on May 15, 2008 23:59:28 GMT -5
My hand reached out, and clasped his firmly although I daresay not as firmly as his did mine. He had been a soldier before he had been a duc and it showed as clearly as my own lack of polish did at times. For all my mother tried, I could not hold the sheen of a sophisticate. "My Lord Duc, we do indeed have a deal." It should have been one of my shining moments, but like any other ingenue no doubt I wore too much excitement on my features.
|
|
|
Post by Jareth d’Aiglemort on May 16, 2008 7:22:47 GMT -5
Her hand was rough like my own as we shook and I inclined my head and then lifted her hand and gave the back of it a soft kiss. I then released my grip and peered once more at the display of her works "So, now what are we about?" I needed to find a room at some point but the day was still young and I was quite content to let Naomi be my tour guide for the afternoon. She was after all charming company as well as being aesthetically pleasing. That thought kept rising in my mind despite my best efforts to keep it down. I was nearly twice her age as best I could guess and one should not be having such thoughts even if in our nation no one tends to bat an eyelash at such matters.
|
|
|
Post by Naomi Verre de Forgernon (I) on May 17, 2008 21:19:17 GMT -5
Once my hand was free, I let it fall back to my side while smiling. "About? Well, we are about finding you a place to rest your head next my lord Duc." He was easy company, and although older than I, interesting. Usually I might find myself bored to tears with the older peers of the realm, but he couldn't have been half as much my age and there was a debonaire sort of charm about him that was almost lanquid. I liked it. "Come, we'll set you a right with a good place."
There was a boring house in the East Borough, and it was well reputed, but somehow I thought that he might like something a little more ... earthy. At least with his soldier's past he'd enjoy bedding down above one of the taverns in our quarter. They were rowdy at times, but the cheer was usually good, the wine without grit and the company merry. Drawing his through the streets, I made sure to point out the other homes of those he might think to entreat in his quest to gain a foothold in the city.
|
|
|
Post by Jareth d’Aiglemort on May 18, 2008 18:17:34 GMT -5
"That sounds like a splendid idea though for the night I should probably just settled for a room. Then as we look about I can see if there is a residence that suits me for more permanent use." I trailed her through the streets taking in the various places she pointed out and pondering. She was a good company and I found myself at ease in her company which was a pleasant thing.
After a while, and after looking at several places she pointed out I asked "Do you think I should take up residence among the other nobles? I mean I feel more at ease around day to day people but a sharp tongue in certain situations may be worse than a sharp sword. It might set tongues to wagging if I broke too far from the norm." I looked at her to see what her thoughts on the matter were since I was genuinely curious.
|
|