Daechirlie's Angels

It is perhaps not the /best/ day for shopping, given the light rain that falls from the sky. But a hat or cloak suffices to keep the light rain at bay, and for a trio of Mul'niessa... it's a better option than shopping on a day when the sky is full of sunlight to glare down at them every time they leave one of the sheltered stalls or shops. Daed, in his fine black regalia, is in a great mood, smiling warmly at the people as they pass by and his eyes sharp for the next shop on his mental list. He has in fact, a few small purchases already in hand. Carefully pulled up his arm close to his body to prevent the thieving which is if not rampant than at least possible here. "Where would you two like to go next? A tailor perhaps?"

Aya would rather have rain than shine, in this case, as well. The addition of a muted gray cloak handles the shedding of water, though the fact that it's light has her hood doffed for the moment. She walks along with, albeit slightly behind, Daed at a casual, even slow, pace. "A tailor could be interesting," she offers in somewhat neutral agreement. She may have no strong feeling either way concerning a next stop. "Perhaps my chaperone should decide?"

Aryia was perfectly content with the light drizzle, her using a familiar straw hat to block out something other than the sun, coupled with a dim green cloak as well. She wasn't entirely sure how she agreed to go on a shopping trip with Daed, a man she barely knew aside from their mutual connect with Aya. But she ended up going along anyways. The mute woman had purchased a few things thus far, but all were stored in her bag, and all were practical.

So the notion of a tailor makes Aryia surprisingly curious. She matches Aya pace, an arm free of the cloak to speak. "I like trying clothes on, sure," she motions with a light smile, oddly okay with the idea. <Handspeech>

The soft day finds another soul effectively dressed for the weather. Veils matting to her 'face' and her hair an array of inky tendrils spread along the oilcloth poncho that is beading away the falling skies, Venom is at a Khazadi stall, silently haggling with the woman over a couple of billots.

Well, silently is partially correct.

She is silent, merely making vague gestures to the boisterous, almost indignant hawking of the beared woman.

With her focus on the vendor, trying to treat her like a simpleton, she doesn't notice the arrival of her friend and her countryman for the angle of her field of vision.

Daechir turns toward the tailor's shop, pleased at the thought of getting some clothing for all of them that is not merely off-the-rack so to say, but actually fitted. "The shop is a wonderful little place, and the tailor is of excellent quality." He is talking as he walks, and thus doesn't really notice Venom as he steps past her. Then again, they are not familiar to one another, so he has no reason to think anything of continuing on his way toward the tailor's shop.

Aya nods to Aryia at the gesture, then turns to follow Daechir. "Oh?-!" Perhaps the turn too sharp or the ground uneven, as the beginning of her inquiry promptly turns to exclamation with a slight mis-step. She doesn't stumble fully, care of a hand suddenly grasping Aryia's unexposed shoulder.

She takes a moment to steady herself, biding it with comment. "It now sounds far more intriguing than simply 'a tailor.' You could have noted that before..." she notes to Daed in mild chide. Before resuming her steps, she releases Aryia's arm and lowers her hand some, but leaves it out and open, palm up in invitation and/or request. A glance to scarred mul and one brow lifts.

Aryia gives a nod at the suggestion. Sure, might as well try someplace else that wasn't Sandy. Not that Sandy should know, she was just, uh... seeing other styles? Sure. Let's go with that. There is a moment where the mute woman stutter steps at Aya's slight stumble. A hand reaches up to grab an arm, her tilting her head to the side in a silent question. One that is returned with one of Aya's own. Which Aryia accepts, taking the hand to steady her mentor.

However, Aryia does catch sight of Venom. And with Aya so close, she could see her face light up. As they pass by, she gives a soft, two note whistle of a hello, frees her other arm from under the cloak and nudges the veiled woman on the arm with a knuckle.

Venom's head pivots slightly as the voices begin to pass so close to hand behind her, her weight bearing foot pivoting ever so slightly on its ball. One voice was tugging at fibers of a memory, but not such a complete grasp to draw it to proper awareness. The whistle straightens her posture a bit, and the familiar knuckle bump to her arm brings the shrouded one around.

She cants her head at the company her friend has gathered, then lifts a hand to give a little finger wave as the other waves off the push Khazadi. The two with Aryia are likely getting eyeballed in turns behind the veils, but she says nothing aloud, merely offering a little wave and taking a step after, her business there apparently concluded.

Daechir pauses as Aryia whistles, noticing that the woman slightly behind him now is reacting to her presence and comes to a stop. He turns then, taking in the woman's presence more carefully and nodding low to the unfamiliar woman. "Greetings." He offers politely, one hand touching his chest as he nods. "Is this a friend of yours Aryia? If so, she is welcome to join us in our shopping." Daed smiles warmly. "The more the merrier."

"It certainly seems so," Aya opines following the whistle and Aryia's change in expression. She dips her chin in a nod of greeting to Venom. "Good day to you. Do you have need of a tailor with alleged skill? If so, we are en route to one," she adds to the invitation with a morself of specifics.

Aryia gives a sharp nod, her spare hand waving in greeting before gesturing, "Yes, she's my friend. Do you want to come with? It could be fun!" Three mul'neissa and a veiled figure, nothing suspicious at all.

She holds out a hand, physically extending an invitation. <handspeech>

Venom's posture trues up as the male speaks to her, first. He is afforded a nod before there comes some subtle pivoting of her field of view, veils swaying ever so with the movement. Words about shopping bring her head listing the other way just a touch, and her hands flick out an inquisitive, "Shopping?" in <handspeech>.

The followup from the shadow-walker gains a second bow of the head preceding a more distinct shake of her head, "I have clothes-" she begins to sign, though her protests still as Aryia responds and solidifies the invitation. There is a beat, then the scarred hand is taken in her own gloved one. <handspeech>

Daechir notices the invitation accepted, and offers yet another warm smile to the woman with whom he has - until now - had no association. "You may call me Daed if it pleases you. The tailor I was suggesting is right over here. Even if you have no real need of clothing, it never hurts to have the association of one that has skill, right?" He motions for everyone to follow him and continues to lead the way to one of the shops which is of a more permanent residence.

The bell chimes as they head inside, and the owner of the shop turns out to be an elf of moderate hight with silver hair. He shows some gentle signs of age which suggest that he's older than he looks, and he nods low at your entry and Daechir immediately heads over to him, shaking his hand and greeting him in a very pleasant manner. The clothes around the shop itself show that this is indeed a tailor of great skill. Someone who is not afraid to set fashion trends and who has the ability to back that up with seamwork to rival anyone.

Aya steps well within the shop after Daechir before pausing, so as to allow room for others, given that she, Aryia, and Venom are all somewhat connected. A long glance about it taken, to include a nod to the tailor. She doesn't even need to finish the sweep to see enough to note, "You did not exaggerate, Daed. I never was one to browse the market, and it seems that I overlooked a gem..."

If Aryia could hum, she'd be doing so as she was center of two friends. Aya's grasp held firm to provide something secretly stable, while Venom's was gentle in its own right. Realizing that she was effectively silenced, Aryia offers instead of a small smile to Venom, a past conversation coming to mind.

>"... could use a day of something normal."<

Odd it was to slip into the store three people long, Aryia had no qualms conducting it. She swivels her head around, giving out a low whistle as her brows raise. Yep, she certainly wasn't telling Sandy.

Venom nods to the man's words and folds her free hand across her midriff to give a little mid-step bow as she follows Aryia's lead. She gives the place a once over as they, but keeps her chin somewhat downcast as the matted veils being wet makes certain vital subtleties problematic. Perhaps in deference to the decor, the shrouded figure wipes the soles of her singular boots on the welcome mat, seeming content to drip dry amongst the mortal chain inside the shop. The tailor, in turn, gets another such bow as the group is now stationary which makes the gesture much easier. She looks to Aryia, holding her attention there and gives a slow nod and a gentle squeeze of the hand before she starts to sign with her free hand, "There are some nice things, here." <handspeech>

"My station does require that I make myself familiar with the resident tailors. Sandy's shop is well and fine, but caters more to the feminine form than the male. This gentleman here makes no such distinction." The tailor looks well pleased at Daed's complements, and welcomes you into his shop with another bow. In fact several of the clothing options available are not distinctly male or female, which is a very classic sign of elvish artistry.

The tailor is a pleasant man, and Daed is clearly familiar with the shop. Showing off some of the designs that he finds to be pleasing to the eye. "And if you like absolutely nothing on the floor he does private sales as well. I've yet to befuddle him with a request." Daed makes an amused noise and the tailor's eyes twinkle with goodwill even as he makes his way to the counter.

Aya approaches a display, though perhaps not to peruse it, specifically, as her eyes shift to nearby options. Instead, she place her free hand against it and, with a light squeeze of warning, gently releases Aryia's hand. It would be inconvenient to leave her chaperone speechless and she has something to brace upon.

"Have you any suggestions?" she inquires aloud; possibly to the tailor, though it could be an open call. "Something fashionable yet practical, light yet sturdy, and, of course, flexible? I wouldn't wish to damage fine work nor reveal all my secrets should someone need to be kicked in the face."

Aryia's eyes scan the floor for various pieces of clothing. She did have to admit, Sandy did have a particular bias towards one style. And the various ones made her minds spur. She glances to Aya, heeding her warning with a small dip of her head, eyes glancing to where she was going, making sure she wasn't leaving her mentor without a support of some kind.

Leaving her with just Venom in tow. She taps her chin with her now free hand, her pointedly looking at something on display. Black slacks, a silvery vest, and a white button up. It ticked all of Aryia's boxes: practical, has sleeves, and was pretty. Slowly, she gravitates towards it, turning to the side to ask Venom with a singular hand, "What do you think?" <Handspeech>

Venom takes in the explanation as she renews her lookover, then looks down immediately around her feet to make sure she's not dripping dry anywhere that would do damage. She doesn't want to be a bother, after all.

She hasn't the aesthetic for the elven flavor, but as Aya calls for suggestions, then rattles off her requirements, her attention turns briefly that way, comparing the shadow-popper's list to what her own would be. As the two lists align so well, she gives a thumbs up, hesitates, then signs, "Pockets." <handspeech>

She is eventually drawn forward by Aryia's grip on her other hand, and the shrouded one moves within the leeway her lead affords to avoid bumping into anything. She considers the outfit as it's brought to her attention, chin rising and falling as the woman leans a bit onto either foot in turns, then starts to sign, "It will take extra care, but it would look very nice. Try it if you can, feel how well it moves with you." <handspeech>

The tailor nods to Aya first, showing off some fabrics that meet her specification and talking knowledgeable about designs that would not hamper movement. "Most of my clothing is just that - clothing, but I have considered a line of more protective garments for those of my customers that would like that." The elf states. "You might be surprised to know that nearly everyone of late has been asking for designs that have at least a moderate amount of protective patterning."

Daed found himself looking at the same design as Aryia as she asks Venom for her opinion on the outfit. "I think it would look amazing on you." He offers her a warm smile. "If you're drawn to it, at least try it on. It can be certainly fitted to you, and if you like it... Then it was well worth the trip here."

Aya makes her way a few steps closer to the tailor to examine his offerings and nodding with his words. She does make note of several, both weave and color, though they are filed away for later as her focus is drawn to Daed and Aryia (and by extension, Venom), as well as Aryia's interest. The garment gets an appraising look. "You all seem to have excellent taste. It would be foolish not to at least try." She then notes to the tailor, "It wouldn't surprise me at all that all would want protective clothing." Aya then looks to his offerings again, wondering whether she should have remained with the others and their collective fashion sense. No offense to the tailor.

Aryia looks to each of the elves, to the veiled one, then back to the garments. Everyone was in approval, and it wasn't as... exotic as something Sandy would attempt to put the mute woman in. She points to the outfit, gives a thumbs up to the tailor, and heads off to a back room with them to get fitted.

It takes a few minutes. Slowed by being unable speak, yet sped up as even through they were different, they both were still elves and held vaguely similar dimensions. Aryia steps back out, the tailor following suit. Dark blue boots to add a splash of color, black slacks creased well as a leg twists one way and another in inspection while a silvery sheened vest is smoothed out by scarred hands. White sleeves buttoned to the wrist. And she slicks her faintly damp hair back.

She gives a broad grin, two thumbs raised in front of her.

With the tailor gone to help Aryia into her chosen outfit, Aya has a prime opportunity to rejoin the others who wait to see how the outfit will turn out on her. Daechir makes very approving noises as the woman returns, clapping his hands lightly in approval and giving the outfit a once-over. "It looks magnificent on you. You have excellent taste Aryia!"

Aya steps her way to the others in-waiting during Aryia's alteration of attire. Her expression lifts as her chaperone/mentored emerges; brows included, of course. A long, appraising look follows before she moves her hands far more quietly than applause, "flick finger down wiggle pointpoint pointpoint up right up wave thumb" 'Positively smashing' could be apt? <unknown>

The praise makes her rub her neck and look off to the side, a dust of red on her face. "Thanks. If it's good enough for a ball, whatever that is, then I think I picked well," she motions, still getting used to being fitted well in something other than a dress. The now dapper scarred mul looks on at the others expectantly. Mostly to Aya.

A small smirk crests her lips. And L-shaped hand touches her sternum, then pivots out towards her mentor.

“Your turn." <Handspeech>

Daed laughs, only catching some of the words that pass between the pair. A sound like bells echoes in the wake of his laughter and he shakes his head, looking at Aya. "I think she has the right of it. Your turn." If he seems perhaps overly pleased with himself, this is so.

Aya's compliment falls slightly short as she realizes too-late that it was not the best reference. Not that she has time to lament nor correct this as she blinks. Speaking of too late... She looks between the two, expression showing... is that confusion? "My turn to choose something, or to try something?" She looks between them again. "I don't know that I..."

Her fluster is self-exiled and her countenance returns to neutral. "Very well." She makes her selection, which happens to be the item atop the pile of options she had mentioned interest in. At least, that is the pile she belives it to be. The garment is taken back to the room to be tested. Possibly fitted as the tailor follows. In Aya's defense (or embarrassed ire), she only stumbles once on the way.

Venom doesn't remark about protective vestments. Those who would know the signs also know the reasons.

The veiled woman gives a little thumbs up as Aryia takes up the initiative and looks then between the two less familiar soul sand quietly (how else) edges back to the welcome mat to continue drying.

With the gauntlet dropped it seems, the shrouded head pivots to see what the senior elfmaid will do. She doesn't weigh in, though, that way leads to peer pressure.

Daed waits quietly for Aya to return, taking this chance to look over a few items himself and see if anything catches his fancy. There are quite a few things which he is pleased to find, but nothing that particularly stands out as being necessary for his wardrobe. Thus he returns to the group largely empty handed. "While we wait for Aya... You never introduced yourself. Might I have your name?" This is directed at the woman whom he does not know, veiled and unnamed as yet as she is.

The scarred elf was perusing the shelves for some fabric, her taking some glances at the veiled woman, using her as reference. But, Aryia perks up, her face reddening a bit as she forgot basic formalities. Knowing that Daed didn't have a full grasp of Handspeech, she motions slowly for him. "Sorry. This is V-E-N-O-M. Venom, this is D-A-E-D," she gestures between the two of them, making a small introduction. <Handspeech>

Venom turns her head slightly as Daed begins to speak and, not knowing exactly how fluent he is in the more convenient tongue, reaches under her poncho for a moment. As ever, there is barely time for a heart to beat a second time before the gloved hand reemerges and frames a small, well scripted note in Trade:

Venom

Before the lingering moisture on her gloves can wick too far into the note, she slips it back under her poncho, tucks a toe behind the opposing heel, crosses her arm across her belly and bends into a neat bow.

As she straightens, and the moist veils settle back into the irregularities beneath, her head turns to Aryia and she signs with both hands, "Thank you. How does it" 'it probably being the outfit, based on the wave of her hand along Aryia's body, "feel? Does it bind up, anywhere?" <handspeech>

Daed offers a half-bow half-nod to Venom in return, his own courteous gesture well practiced. His long braid slips over his shoulder as he bows and he quickly shifts it behind himself as he stands back upright. His hair, which is bound in a braid, falls neatly well below his beltline, which gives him an illusion of having very short hair until it gets in his way in such a manner. With the two women engaging one another in the language of their hands, Daed makes a mental note to learn it a little better. Even if it was unusual to locate so many who spoke it primarily, it would serve him well in other times to understand and know it.

Aryia tilts her head at Venom's question. That was something she didn't check for. She twists one way, another way. Bowing down deeply, palms flat against the floor. Then hands to the ceiling, followed by both arms flexing, the fit well. Seems like all those check boxes that Aya had applied to this cut of cloth.

Aryia gives a thumbs up to Venom, along with a warm smile. A gesture, "It's good!" She glances to Daed, tilting her head to the side at the long braid. Did other sil always had their hair so long? It seemed like a hassle more than anything. She shrugs, firing off a suggestion to Venom. "The tailor said something about protective fabrics. Maybe there's something you can swap your veil and poncho out with?" Though, she does not sign the last two articles, Aryia reaching forward to flick a finger against the edge of the wet veil and drums her fingertips against the poncho.

She smiles. <Handspeech>

Venom considers Daed as he bows in turn, giving the braid a curious look as he moves to return it to its proper place. She gives the man a little thumbs-up, then turns as Aryia takes her question through its paces. She nods affirmingly and turns toward the tailor, offering several light claps and a thumbs-up as his work meets the earmarks with aplomb.

As she's approached, she straightens, barring the cant of her head and she takes in Aryia's query for some seconds before replying, "Like what?" <handspeech>

Lost on the conversation between Ayria and Venom, Daed simply allows himself to become a spectator. Though he certainly notices the curious looks that his hair gets he has no reason to understand why his hair would be of any interest and doesn't remark upon it himself.

Aryia cups her chin and sits on her back foot. Her squinting and pivoting her head up and down, looking her fellow mute over. She steps forward, narrowed eyes looking right into the veils. She turns her head back towards the fabrics on display, looks back to Venom, the fabrics, down at her legs, back to the fabrics. The elf snaps her fingers, boots thudding against the floor as she strides over to a bolt of fabric on display and points to it.

"Can get this cut into something you use!" she grins, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The indicated bolt of fabric was just as dark as the one Venom bore, yet had geometric patterns of non-reflective gold dashing across it. It looks neat, and, practical. Might give some eyes a bit of a dazzle should it move too quick. <Handspeech>

Venom folds her arms under her poncho as Aryia leans into her space, the subtle glimmer of her eyes behind the veils meeting those of the elfmaid. Her head cocks in an almost birdling fashion as the other silent woman starts to give her a studious lookover ere striding over to select a particular bolt of cloth.

There is a quick look toward Daechir as the suggestion is made and, with a shrug his way, she points toward the bolt, then to him, then taps her fingers against her temple.

She gives the welcome mat another look to see that she's no longer dripping, and steps almost silently toward Aryia's chosen bolt for closer scrutiny.

Daed isn't certain of what Venom means by pointing to himself, but he has a rough guess. "If you like, I will turn around so that you can test the visibility of the cloth in privacy." He offers quietly, moving slightly to do so. If she had some desire to ensure that he did not see her face, then he would respect that desire.

Aryia gives a small snicker, a strange sound as its mostly air. She picks up her bag left on the counter, pulling free a journal and scribbling something down before walking over to Daed with an amused smile. She shows the page to him, an okayish handwriting reading in Tradespeak:

"She wants to know your thoughts about it."

She looks back to Venom. "And the tailor said they can be protective, so maybe it'd even help later," she mentions with her free hand, seemingly proud of her idea. But it falters slightly, her quickly gesturing, "I... don't mean what you have is bad. I mean... just other options? I... yes." <Handspeech>

Ah, there's her usual blundering self.

Venom shifts her weight slightly, fidgeting with something under the poncho before, with a glance to the back of Daechir, she reaches out a pale, bare hand out at an angle to obstruct the tailor's view with Aryia's body briefly, feeling the fabric between her fingers a moment.

As her friend opts to up and scoot over to explain to Daed, her hand vanishes back under its protective shelter and she reaffixes her glove in place. She straightens up, looking to Aryia as she starts signing anew in her direction and she nods, "I like the pattern. I'd need it treated to repel the weather, if it can be done. This..." her hands falter a moment to consider phrasing, then she resume, "I think would make a nice flowing dress." <handspeech>

"Ah!" Daechir reads the words and has the grace to look embarrassed for his misunderstanding. "I think that the cloth has a very pleasing design. The black is dark but not so much so as to make the gold flash. While the gold is very subtly beautiful. I think..." He looks at Venom. "That considering your style of dress that it would be something very fitting to your wardrobe should you desire something a little more colorful."

Realizing that she blew some cover for Venom, she mouths a 'Sorry' towards them. She bounces on the balls of her feet again, reassured now that her decision wasn't in terrible taste. Though, the signs make her pause.

She blinks, eyes flicking over Venom, picturing something before her lips even out into a warm smile. "I think you'd look nice in that." <Handspeech>

Venom shrugs a little under the poncho, then fiddles with somethng else before she produces a little notepad and pen, with which she starts to scribble.

The scritching of the pad stops as Daechir speaks, making his thoughts known and the shrouded one's head lists a touch, considering that, and begin scribbling with new vigor.

First things, first, though.

She steps over to her friend, gloved hand lifting to gently alight her cool, only faintly damp glove on her shoulder for a little squeeze.

With thumb and fingers of one hand, she folds the note effectively in half and shows the bottom half of the note to Daechir:

Thank you.

It's a very nice pattern, and it'd be nice to see in motion.

Daed reads the message again and nods to the woman who wrote it with a soft smile on his features. "I am glad you found something that you like." The tailor meanwhile is wrapping up the various things that they've decided to take with them, and glances at Daed who grins. "I buy from here often enough as it is, I think I will refrain this time. It has been a pleasure as always however." He offers his gratitude to the shopkeeper, and subtly manages to pay for everyone's purchases without them noticing. Yet.

The silent approval morphs the mute mul'neissa's smile into a closed eye one, her own hand resting atop Venom's for a brief moment. All was in order. She squeezes the hand back, the moment between them allowing Daed to get the purchase complete.

Aryia does turn to pay, her pulling out a coin purse from her bag, but the tailor holds up a hand and shakes his head. She blinks. Blinks again. Then slowly returns her pouch back to her bag.

She wasn't going to complain. Not that she was suspicious as to why, but rather she'd rather not question it and end up causing a ripple effect. One that would end up with Sandy hot on her tail about going to a different tailor.

Venom missed the nefarious charity going on as the gentleman opts to buy the ladies their day's finery on the sly. She bows her head again, then turns toward the squeeze on her hand.

Note still held folded over one of her fingers, she raises that hand to gently prop up Aryia's chin and she gives two little nods before her hands withdraw to allow her to pay as is her wont.

Ignorant of Aryia's tailoring trepidations, she encloses the note in the clasp of her hands and waits for the shopkeep to be finished with their business before broaching her own.

Of course, there's nothing for Venom to pay for either, and the shopkeeper merely smiles at her and spreads his hands before gesturing to Daed. The man himself stands inconspicuously near the door, holding a few more bags than before and seeming quite pleased with himself indeed.

Some things are best done with an extra pair of hands, eyes, or other limbs. Aya first realized this with Aryia and the hand mirror barely a day past. Still, she did note then that the list of those entrusted to such things was rather short. The tailor was not among them, no offense to his tradeskills, and Aya was already ... uncomfortable going into the dressing room. Thus there is a significant delay in her return, occasionally punctuated by low curses in undercommon or sildanyari, or even Yrrch (it excels at expletives). At long last, however, Aya finally emerges from the shadows, seeming as content with her attempted attire as she expects she can be.

It is not a dress like her prior, though it is not quite pants and shirt, either. It looks to be wrapped, at least in part, with the silvery fabric providing the fashion. It is not uniformly colored and opalescent, shifting from silver-white to shimmering blue depending on the lay of the piece and the angle of the light.

Her torso is covered with several layers to provide warmth and opacity while the arms and legs are single or few layers granting translucence; loose, but not billowing. Both currently end at forearms and calves, respectively with small knots, though the cuffs could likely be shifted or adjusted as desired.

Aya looks to the trio as she emerges, mildly surprised that they are (still?) at the counter. She doesn't speak first, but does quirk a brow.

Aryia all but freezes, head tilting back to look up and through the veils. To the other two mul'neissa in the room, a faux pas was set in motion. Were it not for the singular person expressing their gratitude, the veiled woman may have found themselves grappling on the ground with an angry mul'neissa.

Instead, Aryia blinks once. Rubs her neck. And looks off to the side, only to just now catch Aya entering. She coughs into her fist, rubbing at her face before looking Aya over.

She tilts her head one way, then another, taking in the simple complexity before giving an approving thumbs up.

She misses the whole deal with the tailor.

Venom doesn't blame anyone one bit for wanting to change alone. She's... got things about that.

Not yet in position to realize how pervasive Daed's graciousness has become, she remains at her quiet parade rest as the outpouring of... color from the changing room catches her ears. There is the slight bird-ending of her head as she looks in that direction. She considers the subtle play of color, what remains visible of it through her personal obfuscations and thinks back to a time when the flex of limb, coupled with the sheen of steel was a portent of unwelcome tidings and the hem of the veil sinks almost imperceptibly as the camber of her face changes before her head pivots to see what Aryia is doing amidst all this.

What she finds doesn't sit well, for reasons the veiled woman is at a loss to process. Her upbringing was significantly less Charn than Charn-adjacent, with as many profound differences as parallels, and the depths of her misstep elude her though the changing set of her shoulders, the shift of her hip belay an uncertainty in the larger silent figure.

Daed remains near the door, but adds his own approving nod to the outfit that Aya is wearing. "I think it suits you Aya. The looseness of the garments is not such enough to be problematic, but is distracting and good for moving around a lot in." Some of the things which he knew that she was looking for in a garment.

Aya's stance and expression relax at the signs of approval before she nods to the others. "I expect that the next donning will be much less ..arduous." She always presumed those having dressing servants to be lazy, flaunting their wealth, or both. Perhaps there is some justification in some circumstances. Not that she requires such, of course.

She offers her smirk to Aryia, first, before her eyes flick to Daed at his comment. "Distracting?" A brief glance down at herself. "That could prove useful in a variety of circumstances. I will keep that in mind."

Aryia recovered from that after a beat, looking no more flustered than she usually is. For all the subtleties that happen between the two mutes, Venom could tell that her friend's brain temporarily short circuited like gobbo artifice.

She ends up shaking her head and clasping her hands together. "I guess you have a paid for dress later. Can give him your measurements and pick it up in the future?" she suggests to Venom with some movements of her hands.

The dapper, scarred mul'neissa matches eyes with Aya, her tilting her head to the side before giving a tiny shrug. She pivots to the tailor, gesturing a 'thank you' to them before taking a step towards the door. Looking ready to leave. <Handspeech>

Venom seems lingeringly struggling with something, though as Aryia's seemed to have dropped her gears back into mesh with no more effect, she, too, subtly drops into a more relaxed posture.

The declaration about the dress changes that slightly, and she looks toward the tailor first, then Daechir. Trains of procedure and consequence occupy her thoughts for some heartbeats before she turns toward Aya.

There is a soft rumpling sound in one hand as the other lifts to give the newly clad Mul'niessa a thumbs-up, then flicks a sign three times:

"Practice"

"Practice"

"Practice" <handspeech>

Daed offers a soft half-bow to the ladies and moves to open the door. "Are we ready to move on then? I think we should consider a meal next." There's a slightly evil tilt to his lips.

"Shopping -and- a meal?" Aya now lifts a suspicious brow at Daechir. "I suspect bribery..." Her suspicions may be confirmed as she attempts to pay the tailor for her newly-acquired puzzle of apparel, only to be declined with a gesture to Daechir. While turned to eye Daed further, she still offers the tailor a few coin. A tip; for his time, attempted assistance, and possible aural discomfort.

A meal? Aryia cants her head, glancing to Aya's observation. She shoots a glare at Daed. Aryia hadn't exactly accepted Daed just yet as one of the ones she trusted. Even when she gestures another 'thank you' towards him when she realizes he also paid for her new fit.

However, she sighs in the end. Food she didn't have to pay for? Why not? She looks up at Venom, a brow raised. "Do you want to come with us?" she politely signs. <Handspeech>

Venom seems somewhat locked up a moment in the wake of that. She affords Daed another neatly folded bow before she straightens and looks between the particulars.

She gives a small shake of her head, then begins to sign again, "Thank you, no. I will need to work things out, I'll catch up, later. Please enjoy yourselves." <handspeech>

Still bound in her particular circumstances, she had enough compromises to muddle through as it is.

Daed laughs. "Would that be so hard to accept Aya?" He seems quite amused with himself, bells twinkling in the background as he heads out onto the street. "Come, good food awaits us!" He holds the door for them, his red eyes twinkling merrily. It seems he really is in good humor today.