Second-Hand at Schmacklemore's

Ierne Weyrhold - Marketplace
Bright banners and colorful flora line the wide square full of shops, stores, and sidewalk vendors. The proud proprietors are mostly traders who specialize in certain items or crafters who wanted a place in which to market their wares and they decorate their establishments in bold, eye-catching ways to attract cliental. A single massive banyan tree sits in the center of the square, surrounded by clusters of stone benches. Children and firelizards play among the nooks and crannies created by its aerial roots. A broad avenue to the ferry port leads to the south, while a smaller roadway heads southwest to the weyrhold proper.

The Great Abandoning of 2734 could have been so much worse! Some might not have fully understood the details of Leirith's latest Good (bad) Idea and are now potentially muttering over it. Kyriel considers it lucky that at least they have rooms and food accounted for. He might have overheard tales of previous (mis)adventures - or simply assumes this is by far not the worst they can experience (yet). While having no specific Craft skill, he's not completely helpless; he'd been helping around the Weyr since he was of age to start taking on general tasks. Kyriel also enjoys to hunt and fish, one of which he utilized much earlier in the morning hours after some inquiries. Now it is late morning, edging into noon, and he's idly wandering down to the marketplace. Bright banners and colourful flora will have to wait their turn to be gawked at. His focus is on the palm of one hand and a disappointed frown where a finger nudges around the few sparse marks he managed to earn for it.

Never let it be said that Andalise doesn't do her utmost to make the best of any situation. She does not number among those potential naysayers, being likewise grateful that they'll have roofs over their heads and won't have to fend for their own food this seven. Pitching in with the weyrhold's more fully trained bakers comes easily to her, even if she ends up spending her morning feeling that she has quite a few areas (more!) that need polishing if she's going to get anywhere in her currently committed craft. Having swapped her work attire for a well-worn, if still clean blouse and a skirt, she's mostly free of flour-smudges by the time her footsteps also take her into the marketplace, long hair falling freely about her face. "Hey, " she says to Kyriel not-quite breathlessly once she's near enough to repeat yesterday's greeting; he's at least a familiar face as the amount of foot-traffic thickens the closer they get to the proprietors and artisans. She's probably having no better luck on generating income right now than he is, given that she's yet to make a single purchase since their arrival. "Do you think we'll get frowned at if we don't come back with a new outfit? I don't think I have enough for a total, you know."

"Hey," Kyriel returns the greeting, if edged with a hint of surprise for her sudden (to him) appearance at his side. Andalise is likewise familiar from the day prior; a recognizable face and welcomed. He'll slow his stride, eventually coming to a stop where they can lurk a little offside to avoid disrupting the foot traffic. He's dressed comfortably to Ierne's summer climate, style and cut relatively nondescript; even his accessories are limited to a short leather necklace and a woven bracelet. The marks are bounced in his now-closed hand and then pocketed as he shakes his head. "I don't think so," he offers in an attempt to be reassuring and likely having it fall flat from the lack of assured confidence layering his tone. "You could just aim to find one of the most outrageous, eccentric or just… awfully tacky thing you can find?" Quality over quantity counts, right? "Guess it depends on how long we're stuck here, too."

"How about something like those obnoxiously bright, flowery patterns that a lot of northern visitors always seem to want to wear?" Andy suggests after a moment of thoughtful frowning. "It shouldn't be hard to find something like that in a place this big." Squinting toward what could be a display of terribly kitschy, luridly dyed shirts up ahead, she makes to start off in that direction, even if her pace slows so that she aim an only slightly alarmed glance back at Kyriel. "I hope it won't be for too much longer. I didn't have much in the way of savings to begin with, and now … " Now, she's already caught the eye of the overly eager cart-keeper who's waving her over to look at his exclusive, hand-dyed, "Ierne-made" tunics and dresses.

Did she expect a tag-along too? Kyriel is inclined to follow her, though he doesn't seem at all interested in displays yet; that over eager cart-keeper is going to get a fair share of sus sidelong looks from him too. He doesn't exactly pull Andy away, but he's hovering a little closer than before. "That's specific to northern visitors?" he idly remarks. He might not have noticed that before! Fashion is not … exactly his 'thing'. Her alarmed glance likely earned a shrug in return. Hey, it's not HIS idea! "Don't have much either and what I got this morning won't cover much." he admits, turning his attention away to look further down the marketplace. "Could try a second-hand kind of thing? There's got to be something like that… they never specified new. Or, I dunno what they're called, but something cheaper?"

Andalise is probably only half-listening to Kyriel, as she's already browsing through what the tourist trapping cart-keeper has on offer while he's giving perfectly rational suggestions. "Sometimes! I mean, they always seem to say they're here visiting from, I don't know, Fort or High Reaches or somewhere like that when they're wearing that much — " Garishness, perhaps, but whatever adjective the baker was going to use gets lost as she pauses over a dress that's a deep maroon with what appears to be embroidered flowers along the keyhole neckline. (Maybe Leirith would call this one boring, too.) "Miss has good taste!" proclaims the seller as the candidate fingers the fabric. "This is hand-made by local tailors using embroidery techniques you will not find anywhere else outside of Boll. Exclusive dye lots, yes! I'll let you have it for the low, low price of, " and he names an amount that's easily twice what a weaver at the hall might charge for such a creation. "You'll have a truly unique piece to commemorate your little vacation to Ierne with your sweetheart." The gullible brunette looks entirely taken in by this little speech, nodding all the way through right up until the last bit. "Um, my — what?" Even her hand, halfway to her bag, freezes. Doe-like eyes give Kyriel a pleading, if markedly embarrassed look. "Second-hand might be a good idea, " she replies weakly. "Do you know which way to go?"

The cart-keeper already lost one interest; Kyriel's attentiveness is quick to wane under the too-strong attempt to entice. He's already itching to leave, but he won't just up and abandon Andalise to her fate (he won't stop her from a regrettable purchase, either). Looking away again, he's attempting not to roll his eyes. Then there's a SUDDEN flush of color to his cheeks and ears, Kyriel's doing his damn best not to be ruffled by that sweetheart comment! He'll look back just in time to catch Andy's doe-eyed look, a fleeting one of panic uncertainty in return and he exhales, reaching to awkwardly guide her to moving with a hand to her shoulder. "Come on. We'll keep looking." Giving the cart-keeper a curt nod, he'll wait until they're a few steps away before giving a helpless shrug. "No clue, actually." he gives a half-sheepish smile. "They're probably a little less… than whatever that guy was peddling." Kyriel clearly Does Not Approve of that experience. "What about down that way?" He'll point to one of the farthest looking market fronts; it clearly is offering clothing and is tastefully arranged, but not flashy.

The baker, nearly as tall as her rescuer, is all too-willing to be guided away from the presumptuous proprietor, expression swiftly turning to one of relief once they're out of range of the moustached-man and no longer looking like his potential clients. "If they're a lot less, I might be able to come up with two pieces, " the apprentice muses aloud, returning the other teen's sheepish smile with a grateful one of her own. "Thanks, by the way. I'm Andy, " although maybe he already knows that, which could render her introduction-on-autopilot completely unnecessary. "Where? Oh, there?" She turns her attention to the area he's indicating, shoulders lifting and dropping with an agreeable, "May as well." More warily: "Maybe you should go first, this time."

Kyriel huffs in amusement, perhaps splashed by lingering nerves, to her thanks. His half-smile, at least, is genuine. "I'm Kyriel," he replies and he had already known but likely needed the refresher. Neither does he have it in him to remind her. Her more wary suggestion to the next shop is met with a slight nod of agreement. "We can go in together," he counter-offers. "And if they come on as strong as that guy, we'll just leave." Seems reasonable enough of a plan, right? He frowns, "I guess not all the places here are trustworthy." Which is a disappointment and Kyriel's tone and expression suggest that much! "We'd probably get no sympathy for being overcharged." As they approach the shop, Kyriel's stride slows to a gradual stop as he leans forwards to peer into the front window display. "Dunno about you but it seems good?" he points out, before tilting his head to glance upwards. "What's the name of the place?" Shouldn't he have checked that first!?

"Okay, " agrees Andalise after a moment; there's safety in numbers, after all, regardless of the world in which one wanders. "I guess they're not, " the ever-optimist says reluctantly, clearly every bit as disappointed that people aren't always nice. "Maybe it's a good thing I ran into you. I don't really know what things are worth besides uh, bread and pastries." There's a long look for the display that's tastefully showcasing items approximately two seasons out of date; the brunette walks close enough to the window to press her nose to it while frowning in the direction of a rack that's not quite visible from without. "Can't be worse than the last one, " she decides brightly, stepping back far enough to lift her chin toward the cheerful sign over the entry. Mouthing syllables once, then twice, she finally voices, "Shackle — er, Schmacklemore's Thrift Goods?" It comes out every bit as uncertain as the subsequent look she exchanges with Kyriel. "Who's Schmacklemore?" Other than a person with really unkind parents!

"Oh, I just assumed he was overcharging." Kyriel's quick to point out with another half-amused chuckle. "Given he was laying it on so heavy. Maybe I was wrong," he shrugs, unbothered by the prospect. Andy didn't want to stick around and he was readied to leave and so they did! "Clothes aren't really my thing. I mean, I know what I like but as for what's in style?" And he air-quotes appropriately. "I don't really follow it." Not yet, anyways. Kyriel squints at that sign, just as Andy struggles to pronounce it; he's likely fairing no better. He glances sidelong at her, just as puzzled. "No idea. Maybe it's a pun…?" One would hope! With one last glance at the window front, he'll reach for the door and gesture for Andy to step inside first; he'll be right behind, as agreed on! "… just remember," he mutters low, not quite in a whisper. "Sketchy vibes and we leave, alright?" Not that the place gives that feel (yet)! It's certainly well stocked and arranged with some semblance of organization but somehow still overwhelming at first. Where to even start!? Kyriel looks around, both awed and unsure.

Andalise's, "I'm not really good at this stuff either, " might be meant to be reassuring, for all that she seems reasonably able to put a sensible outfit together on most days without help. "What sort of pun would that be?" It's probably a rhetorical question, given the grin she aims back at him before proceeding into the shop, bright-eyed and … equally overwhelmed. There's some rustling coming from the back of the shop, but no view yet of Schmacklemore, curator of — "Hey, look at these!" The apprentice makes a beeline for a shelf bearing painted figurines of various animals arranged in strangely anthropomorphic poses with clothing and bemused expressions on their surely delicate faces. "Aren't these amazing? Do you suppose they'll give bonus points if we bring something like this back with the outfit?"

Kyriel follows Andalise once again, though in a far more distracted way as he glances from side to side; there is color and textures and everything to a dizzying degree. He blinks a few times, as if to clear his head from the overload. "I mean, if you got extra? They look delicate too." And because no lessons of 'look don't touch' seem to apply in this moment, he'll reach up to tap a finger against one; unsurprisingly, it almost ends up on the floor. It's only through some panicked fumbling and a whole lot of luck that Kyriel manages to nudge-toss it back into place. "… I'm going to go over there." He gestures vaguely, while eyeing those cluttered shelves warily like they're to blame and not him! Taking a few steps back, he does not wander far; just to the nearest rack of clothing. Much is passed over, a few are given a curious tug before moving on.

"Care — " But Andy's too late to prevent the tchotchke-fumbling that for once has nothing to do with her own lack of grace, " — ful, " finishes about ten seconds late. "Me too, " comes quickly once Kyriel retreats for areas of less delicate wares; this time, she follows him, wending her way around this rack and that while searching for the section that probably caters more toward feminine wear. A few hangers are pushed to and fro, then: "What do you think of this one?" It's a hodgepodge of a vest in which the girl would swim, probably pieced together with four different textures of yellow fabric completed by a blue, half-trouser pocket near the right-side hem. "Maybe with, um. Some kind of equally bright pants?"

Having drifted to the aisle over once he'd realized that the clothing was all feminine style, Kyriel pauses to look up. "That literally looks like someone just used whatever scraps they had on hand," he remarks, all while trying to contain his amusement. His shoulders lift in a shrug, "Could work? I don't know what would pair with that but then again … I don't think that matters." This is Leirith's idea, so anything likely goes! "Brighter is probably better to go with." Looking back at the rack of clothing in front of him, he'll rifle through a few, only to make a sound that is a joking groan. "Shells, who thought this was ever a good idea?" he exclaims in a lowered voice that is also strained from withheld laughter, while prying the item loose. "I can't even look at it for long!" Sure enough, he holds up a long sleeved sweater that is pattered in the most vivid, garish nightmare of colors; something about the whole thing is off, from the clash to the design itself which seems to queasily shift in an illusion of movement if one stares at it too long.

"Maybe the key is to find something that doesn't pair with it!" Andy blurts smartly. Other than making sure that it's equally bright, of course, which she applies herself to searching out with gusto. She's between items when she happens to glance up and catch sight of the grandmother of the ugly Christmas sweater Kyriel's holding out, which elicits a choking sort of noise. "You should definitely get that one, " endorses the baker before returning to her hunt for equally garish trousers. What she ends up pulling next is a fluorescent pink skirt full of similarly nauseating whorls in houndstooth, which she proclaims to be: "Perfect!"

Kyriel makes a non-verbal agreement by gesture and half shrug to Andy's revelation on possible keys in clashing attire. Her suggestion to keep the sweater is met with a vehement shake of his head and laughter. "Shards, no! It's summer and I'm pretty sure this is two, maybe three, sizes too small for me." IS IT THOUGH? Because he's very quick with shoving that sweater back from the depths of hell rack it came from. Her next discovery earns a lopsided grin (and maybe a wince) of approval. "Won't be losing you in a crowd," he teases, while wandering further into the heart of the store. No luck as of yet for him! There's plenty he considers and even more that are flat out ignored; from the way his brow furrows, he's starting to be overwhelmed or overthinking things. Or both! "Oh, these are… odd." Kyriel reaches up to pluck a pair of ankle boots from a shelf; on a glance they look dyed but closer it is obviously paint. A lot of it, in a very abstract whorl of patterning that is unusual but not nauseating to look at. They'd likely clash with anything and everything or really stand out. "Do you think this was done on purpose?"

Andalise laughs, too, although hers is likely a touch more sheepish than his. "A pair of scissors could make it sort of tolerable for summer, " you know, if you squint really hard, "but I guess it would still be a little too warm, wouldn't it. Right." With her two selections draped over an arm, she meanders closer to where he's holding the pair of boots in question. "Sure, " she quips, "by a bunch of five turn-olds." There's a soft 'hem, hem' behind her; the balding man who studies them both behind a too-shiny pair of spectacles has, at least, a kindly sort of expression as he corrects, "It was done on purpose. That's fine taste you have." A near echo of the smarmy cart-keeper's words, but the nuances offered by probably-Schmacklemore couldn't be more different. "Unusual, however, if I may say so, for two young people like yourselves." He hesitates. "Was it a lost bet?"

"Kiiinnd of?" Kyriel's not one to lie and, while he's recovered from the initial jolt of surprise from the balding man's comments suddenly joining their conversation, he'll make exceptions. How else to explain that they're Candidates on a mission field trip looking for outfits to appease suit Xanadu's Badass Leirith? He might be slanting a look too at Andy. Help? "Hmm, they're actually not that bad." Would he ever wear them, if he had the choice? Of course not! "And they're my size." So he's got foot ware down! Is he feeling awkward now? Maybe. He's likely trying to put some distance between them and probably-Schmacklemore right about then! "We won't be much longer, I think." Another darted look to Andy. RIGHT? His smile is at least, again, the only genuine thing going on. "Is there somewhere I should be looking for summer clothes? Maybe some hats." Because THAT possibly can't go wrong, right?

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time someone came in here to look for particularly embarrassing clothing, " the hopefully-shopkeeper assures. Helpfully, Andy chimes in with, "We have a — friend — who would really be entertained if we showed up wearing unusual things. Not that there's anything wrong with wanting to wear things that are unusual. Um. How much are the little figurines over there?" Shiny Schmacklemore seems amused, but does his best to take the teenagers seriously and sets himself to directing both toward the objects of their professed interests. It's fortunate for the candidates that he charges a reasonable rate when all is said and done — reasonable, if one were able to generate a little bit of income between now and the day they're rescued taken back to Xanadu. "I don't know if anyone will even take these from the stores once we're through with them, " Andy stage-whispers on their way out.

Unfortunately, Kyriel isn't the best with keeping his expression blank; his relief to Andy's helpful explanation would have ruined everything if they'd really been trying to be sneaky. Luckily for all, the very-likely-to-be-the owner of the shop is willing to go along with their half-baked story. Kyriel ends up with the boots, a rather tacky tropical themed shirt and a glittery hat. Which he'll regret later when said glitter gets everywhere (and not just his stuff, #sorrynotsorry other Candidates). The meagre amount of marks he had just covered the cost. How (un)fortunate? Or did the owner take pity on them? Who knows~ "You'd think so, but I'm not so sure." he stage whispers back, amusement leading to more chuckling. "You want to head back? I think I'm done with shopping for now. Did they ever say anything against us exploring?" And is that a hint of mischief in the way he grins?

Andalise somehow managed to get away with the vest, the skirt and one especially perplexed looking porcine figurine which she tucked away into the bag at her side after seeing that it was securely wrapped in paper. "I'm out of money, " she laughs, brow scrunching up briefly once they're back out in the market proper. "I don't think they said 'no exploring?'" She smiles back at him brightly, darting a mischievous look of her own to the left, then to the right. "Wonder what else is out here?" And she's a cheerful companion for the remainder of their afternoon out and about, chatting easily as they walk where they will. Just maybe not to Horni's Emporium~

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