[OPEN] Start with Goodbye

[witheredpeonies]

Who: Annabel Lee Whitlock (witheredpeonies) & You!
What: Arrival and CR-building opportunities
When: Early June
Where: All over the place!
Warning(s): None yet, comment titles will indicate any that arise.

1. Never a hand hardly to hold [Downtown]
A new arrival has...well, arrived! Annabel Lee Whitlock, a pale blonde wisp of a woman with clever eyes and an easy smile spends her first couple of days exploring her new surroundings. Today, it's the downtown. Walking with a dainty gait and curious glances into the shops, weighing her desire for better clothing against the limited amount of brass in her pocket. Clearly, she's going to need to find work for herself. Nothing nearly so nasty as hard labor, fishing or farming, of course. It's good work, but nothing she'll set her hands to.

When she sees a thimble in the window of a general store, an idea starts to form. Implementation may take effort and aid, but she has time to work it all out. Right?

Feel free to encounter her anywhere in the downtown, looking every bit the tourist.


2. Big city sway, move with the day [Bulletin Board/Workshop]
A message written in an elegant script, on cheap paper:

Now Open, with the Support of the Artisan Guild!
Whitlock Needleworks
Embroidery and Mending at Fair Prices; Braiding, Tasselwork and other Embellishment also Available.
See Annabel Lee Whitlock for More Information.
[Address]

Should someone come seeking the workshop where Annabel's set herself up, they'll find her working on a display piece of embroidery meant to show off her skills. Peonies, of course.

"Welcome in. Was there something particular you were looking for, today?"


3. Wanting it bad, ever-returning home [Wildcard]
Feel free to contact me on almost any social media (discord, plurk, etc.) at darkersolstice to get a custom starter

Comments

[deepbluerevue]

An almost-expression flickers across the woman’s face at that smile, but she maintains the friendliness of her own. “Something simple like that,” she says agreeably. “No sense trying to make a silk purse of a sow’s ear, but I’d like to look a little more than just ‘presentable’ while my new dress is in the works.”

[Note]

For Grace’s current outfit, think the sorts of things the ladies in these photos are wearing: https://www.famousphotographers.net/frank-meadow-sutcliffe

[witheredpeonies]

"I'd be glad to help with that. Though it'll be hard to work on those while you're wearing them. Do you have a spare change of clothing?"

Annabel's beginning to get a vision for what she could do to jazz up the clothes, how she can go about giving them some flare. Contrasting trim, embroidery around the neckline. Nothing extreme, but definitely eye-catching.

[deepbluerevue]

Grace sighs. “As a matter of fact, I do,” she says ruefully, lifting one shoulder to indicate the bag hanging there with her newcomer outfit inside. “Much as I’d prefer to never wear them again. You wouldn’t happen to have a time estimate, would you? It’d be a hard sell to perform in plain linen, so I’d best leave the outfit when I don’t have any appearances scheduled.”

[witheredpeonies]

"So, there's a couple ways we could do this. Instead of doing it all at once, we do it a little at a time so you have it as a work-in-progress for performances. Sleeves and hem first, Embroidery at the neck next. It'd allow you to wear it, and to give me feedback, what you like, what you don't like. If I did it all at once, it'd be a few days of work, a week at the outside if you wanted a lot of embroidery on the bodice."

[deepbluerevue]

“Bit-by-bit would be a perfect arrangement.” Grace says, laughing politely. “No rest for a performer just yet. It’s been interesting getting adjusted, I have to say.”

[witheredpeonies]

"I can imagine. I'm still having a certain degree of culture shock. But we'll both manage, won't we?"

Her smile comes more easy and warm, this time.

[deepbluerevue]

Grace’s return expression is both pained and commiserating, and entirely genuine. “Sometimes I think the only reason I didn’t run screaming was that I didn’t have anywhere to run, but it hasn’t been… too bad, so far.” She nods at Miss Whitlock’s work. “It helps to have folks around that appreciate the finer arts. Keeps everything from feeling too dire, in my books.”

She shifts the bag on her shoulder. “Anyway. I don’t suppose you’ve worked out some rates? I don’t have a clue what the going price is, around here.”

[witheredpeonies]

"I was hoping my customers would know what was fair, honestly!" She lets out a twittery little laugh, as if embarrassed not to have firm rates, yet. "It's different than back home, how money works here. But. Perhaps...would you consider twenty-five brass fair, for the outfit as a whole?"

[deepbluerevue]

“Sounds perfect to me.” Grace smiles. “Getting used to real commerce again is… well, it’s been an adjustment too.” She looks around. “Would you happen to have a place where I could change…?”

[witheredpeonies]

"Back room, just around the corner. Take your time."

She points, gestures in the appropriate direction. And then continues the conversation like talking with someone while they're changing is normal.

"Are there any flowers that are particularly meaningful to you?"

[deepbluerevue]

Evidently, a background in show-business means Grace doesn’t see anything strange about it either.

“Hmm,” she murmurs, to make it clear that she heard the question. Flowers? Hell, she doesn’t know. Old Marlene died years ago, and her flower shop in the Drop next to the Fishbowl Diner shuttered for good. Being the governor of Pauper’s Drop meant she never had time to visit Arcadia. The most she ever got was the fresh air coming through the vents. The vents did have those decorations on them, maybe…?

“Sunflowers?” Grace says. What else. Those mutated flowers of Langford’s, maybe? “And, uh, Gallic roses? It doesn’t matter too much to me, though,” she admits, stepping back out with her nicer blouse folded over one arm, clad in the plain linen shirt. “I trust your judgment. Take artistic license.”