Post by Therdde on Jan 3, 2010 16:47:30 GMT -5
Wyanet
Skelaghe
- Off-Grid Room -
The doors of the saloon fly open as Wyanet stumbles out onto the planked boards of the small porch that leads towards the dusty graveled road. Rubbing her eyes at the brightness of the early morning sun, she lets out a low groan under her breath. Pushing her black, curling hair back away from her face, she ties it back with a ribbon that she had wrapped about her wrist, then tries to smooth her long, billowy dress down some. With a look over her shoulder with her sharp green eyes, she practically glares at the bar, before heading down the steps with a loud sigh. Last night was such a blur. One drink turned to twenty. One song turned into...oh hell, she lost count. She doesn't even remember the name of the guy she woke up next to in the small room upstairs, and she hopes that he was merely passing through town, instead of staying. Like she needs -another- rumor.
Early it is, yet, but the sun poked its head up over the horizon some hours ago, and Skelaghe has been up for just as long as the sun has, getting the most she can out of the daylight. If only her children had such work ethic, her days would be much easier, but she is grateful enough for her older ones generally keeping the younger ones out of her hair that she is willing to be satisfied with whatever help they do provide. Currently, the hard-working woman is simply mending some clothing that , so long as the clothes her children are currently wearing do not completely fall apart one day, will hopefully not be needed until late fall. It's long work, but at least she can sit for a while, while she does it. Her chair is near enough the front of the shop that the daylight provides all the light she needs to do her work.
After smoothing her hair back again, then pulling it over one shoulder, Wyanet looks about the empty street a few times, then spies Skelaghe, busy working as always. Making her way over, her boots are loud against the ground, heavy from her tired legs. Once she is close enough, she calls out in a hoarse voice. "Hey, Skel'." She says with an awkward smile upon her face, hoping that she doesn't appear too ragged. "It's too early to be up, you should be sleeping." She says with a bit of tease in her voice as she nudges a rock off to the side with her foot, giving it a hard kick.
Skelaghe looks up upon hearing her name, and not a moment before. She does tend to be a bit focused, but then, if she allowed herself to be distracted by every little thing, nothing would ever be done. All the same, she greets the sight of Wyanet with a long-suffering smile and gladly drops her hands to her lap, prepared to engage in a bit of conversation. "While I might like that, sleep is not possible when there are children screaming about their inability to find adequate clothing, Wyanet. An ounce of prevention, and all..." She readily ignores any hints of Wyanet's rough night, and will, so long as Wyanet returns her the favor. Their friendship has always been surprisingly easy, despite the very big differences between them.
"Yeah, well, maybe let them run around naked instead. Tell them it's trendy." Wyanet says with an amused look on her face as she flops down on her rump, pulling her knees up a bit against her chest. Leaning her head in against the other woman's leg, she lets out a loud breath. "You're lucky you got kids, Skel'. Doc' says I can't have 'em. Lord knows I've tried plenty of times." She says with a wrinkle of her nose. "So... you know..if you need help watching them or something, so you can get out and have a night to yourself, I'll volunteer. I could use a night away from... you know."
Yes, Skelaghe knows. And because she knows... "I am lucky." Oh, how best to turn down Wyanet's offer without upsetting the other woman, on whose shoulder Skelaghe lays a light, gentle hand to caress, not as though they were friends, but as though Wyanet were one more of her wayward children, desperate for care. As though she could honestly protect Wyanet any better than Wyanet can protect herself. "I don't think I could go even a night without them without driving myself mad with worry, but you are /always/ welcome to join us, any time you wish." Little would make Skelaghe happier than having Wyanet give up her ways and join the household permanently. It is only fear of insulting her old friend that has kept Skelaghe from offering, all this time.
"Well, you won't have to worry if I'm watching them, you know I can handle myself." Wyanet says, rubbing her neck, where the long scar is seen, stretching from her shoulder blade, almost to her jawline. She will never forget that night. "Besides, how else are you going to find a man, if you stay here all day with your children, sewing? You're beautiful, Skel', you should have men lined up at your door, flowers in their hand, trying to woo' your hand in marriage. I met a couple of nice guys last night I'm sure you would have liked. They only ordered ginger ale." She says with a wink. "And your kids could use a father figure in their life." This old talk, one they're both familiar with. Skel' and her lack of a man, and Wya' in her persistence of getting a man for her. Men. Men. Men. "How about this.. I'll join your little family for dinner... tonight, and I'll cook, if you promise to go out the next night and unwind?"
And have Wyanet turning the ears of her sons and daughters with any number of ideas and inappropriate stories. Skelaghe can't say, for certain, that it would happen if Skelaghe were not there to supervise, but it seems likely. "That would be wildly inappropriate, Wyanet." Oh, Skelaghe would love to have a man around again, not so much to keep her company in bed, as they do with Wyanet, as to keep her company elsewhere, but women her age do not spend their nights in saloons, searching for single men. "If you truly do think you know a man who might be interested in becoming my suitor, you are welcome to let him know where my shop it, and to accompany him here yourself."
"What would be wildly inappropriate? You finding a guy, or me watching your kids for a night?" Wyanet asks with a frown on her face, trying to discern if she was being insulted or not. "Just so you know, I did a good job taking care of my younger sisters. I wouldn't take your kids to the saloon or anything. You just don't trust me." She says with a loud snort as she pushes herself up to her feet, brushing the dust off her dress a bit, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. "And after all I've done for you." She pouts a bit, before shielding her eyes as the sun creeps around the top of a building, blinding her for a moment.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Wyanet. For someone... Well, someone in your business... You have such thin skin, at times." Her criticisms, though they come easily enough, are mild in nature as she withdraws her hand from Wyanet's shoulder, not bothering to stand, herself. "Me, chasing after boys like some lovesick teenager. /That/ would be inappropriate." Skelaghe, though fit from years of work and often pleasant from her own attitude, is past her childbearing years, and no longer wifely material, so far as many men are concerned. She has no intention of putting herself out there. "You should know well enough, by now, that you are always welcome in my home, and that I appreciate all you have done. If you don't... Well, I can do no more to try to prove it to you."
"I'm not saying go chase after boys, just go out, have a drink, /talk/, actually look like you're enjoying yourself, instead of dragging about, looking tired and worn down. You ain't got many years in yah left, soon, the gray hair will come." Wyanet pauses, then says, "And what business am I in, Skelaghe?" She asks point blankly, curiously lifting up a brow to her. "Maybe I do have thin skin." She says, rubbing the back of her neck some, fingers raking into her skin a bit roughly.
Skelaghe does her best not to look tired or worn down, and she might be insulted by Wyanet saying she drags herself around, but then, half of this conversation is about how Wyanet /shouldn't/ be insulted by what was a simple, innocuous statement. "Come now, this is foolish. There is no reason for us to be arguing like this." Besides that, she has no desire to answer that question. Such things are better left to the nighttime, in seedy businesses. Finally, Skelaghe does stand, holding the clothes she was mending in one hand as she does so. "You know, I bet some breakfast would fix you right up, settle your mood. Why don't you follow me?" Because if food cannot fix everything, what else can?
Skelaghe
- Off-Grid Room -
The doors of the saloon fly open as Wyanet stumbles out onto the planked boards of the small porch that leads towards the dusty graveled road. Rubbing her eyes at the brightness of the early morning sun, she lets out a low groan under her breath. Pushing her black, curling hair back away from her face, she ties it back with a ribbon that she had wrapped about her wrist, then tries to smooth her long, billowy dress down some. With a look over her shoulder with her sharp green eyes, she practically glares at the bar, before heading down the steps with a loud sigh. Last night was such a blur. One drink turned to twenty. One song turned into...oh hell, she lost count. She doesn't even remember the name of the guy she woke up next to in the small room upstairs, and she hopes that he was merely passing through town, instead of staying. Like she needs -another- rumor.
Early it is, yet, but the sun poked its head up over the horizon some hours ago, and Skelaghe has been up for just as long as the sun has, getting the most she can out of the daylight. If only her children had such work ethic, her days would be much easier, but she is grateful enough for her older ones generally keeping the younger ones out of her hair that she is willing to be satisfied with whatever help they do provide. Currently, the hard-working woman is simply mending some clothing that , so long as the clothes her children are currently wearing do not completely fall apart one day, will hopefully not be needed until late fall. It's long work, but at least she can sit for a while, while she does it. Her chair is near enough the front of the shop that the daylight provides all the light she needs to do her work.
After smoothing her hair back again, then pulling it over one shoulder, Wyanet looks about the empty street a few times, then spies Skelaghe, busy working as always. Making her way over, her boots are loud against the ground, heavy from her tired legs. Once she is close enough, she calls out in a hoarse voice. "Hey, Skel'." She says with an awkward smile upon her face, hoping that she doesn't appear too ragged. "It's too early to be up, you should be sleeping." She says with a bit of tease in her voice as she nudges a rock off to the side with her foot, giving it a hard kick.
Skelaghe looks up upon hearing her name, and not a moment before. She does tend to be a bit focused, but then, if she allowed herself to be distracted by every little thing, nothing would ever be done. All the same, she greets the sight of Wyanet with a long-suffering smile and gladly drops her hands to her lap, prepared to engage in a bit of conversation. "While I might like that, sleep is not possible when there are children screaming about their inability to find adequate clothing, Wyanet. An ounce of prevention, and all..." She readily ignores any hints of Wyanet's rough night, and will, so long as Wyanet returns her the favor. Their friendship has always been surprisingly easy, despite the very big differences between them.
"Yeah, well, maybe let them run around naked instead. Tell them it's trendy." Wyanet says with an amused look on her face as she flops down on her rump, pulling her knees up a bit against her chest. Leaning her head in against the other woman's leg, she lets out a loud breath. "You're lucky you got kids, Skel'. Doc' says I can't have 'em. Lord knows I've tried plenty of times." She says with a wrinkle of her nose. "So... you know..if you need help watching them or something, so you can get out and have a night to yourself, I'll volunteer. I could use a night away from... you know."
Yes, Skelaghe knows. And because she knows... "I am lucky." Oh, how best to turn down Wyanet's offer without upsetting the other woman, on whose shoulder Skelaghe lays a light, gentle hand to caress, not as though they were friends, but as though Wyanet were one more of her wayward children, desperate for care. As though she could honestly protect Wyanet any better than Wyanet can protect herself. "I don't think I could go even a night without them without driving myself mad with worry, but you are /always/ welcome to join us, any time you wish." Little would make Skelaghe happier than having Wyanet give up her ways and join the household permanently. It is only fear of insulting her old friend that has kept Skelaghe from offering, all this time.
"Well, you won't have to worry if I'm watching them, you know I can handle myself." Wyanet says, rubbing her neck, where the long scar is seen, stretching from her shoulder blade, almost to her jawline. She will never forget that night. "Besides, how else are you going to find a man, if you stay here all day with your children, sewing? You're beautiful, Skel', you should have men lined up at your door, flowers in their hand, trying to woo' your hand in marriage. I met a couple of nice guys last night I'm sure you would have liked. They only ordered ginger ale." She says with a wink. "And your kids could use a father figure in their life." This old talk, one they're both familiar with. Skel' and her lack of a man, and Wya' in her persistence of getting a man for her. Men. Men. Men. "How about this.. I'll join your little family for dinner... tonight, and I'll cook, if you promise to go out the next night and unwind?"
And have Wyanet turning the ears of her sons and daughters with any number of ideas and inappropriate stories. Skelaghe can't say, for certain, that it would happen if Skelaghe were not there to supervise, but it seems likely. "That would be wildly inappropriate, Wyanet." Oh, Skelaghe would love to have a man around again, not so much to keep her company in bed, as they do with Wyanet, as to keep her company elsewhere, but women her age do not spend their nights in saloons, searching for single men. "If you truly do think you know a man who might be interested in becoming my suitor, you are welcome to let him know where my shop it, and to accompany him here yourself."
"What would be wildly inappropriate? You finding a guy, or me watching your kids for a night?" Wyanet asks with a frown on her face, trying to discern if she was being insulted or not. "Just so you know, I did a good job taking care of my younger sisters. I wouldn't take your kids to the saloon or anything. You just don't trust me." She says with a loud snort as she pushes herself up to her feet, brushing the dust off her dress a bit, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. "And after all I've done for you." She pouts a bit, before shielding her eyes as the sun creeps around the top of a building, blinding her for a moment.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Wyanet. For someone... Well, someone in your business... You have such thin skin, at times." Her criticisms, though they come easily enough, are mild in nature as she withdraws her hand from Wyanet's shoulder, not bothering to stand, herself. "Me, chasing after boys like some lovesick teenager. /That/ would be inappropriate." Skelaghe, though fit from years of work and often pleasant from her own attitude, is past her childbearing years, and no longer wifely material, so far as many men are concerned. She has no intention of putting herself out there. "You should know well enough, by now, that you are always welcome in my home, and that I appreciate all you have done. If you don't... Well, I can do no more to try to prove it to you."
"I'm not saying go chase after boys, just go out, have a drink, /talk/, actually look like you're enjoying yourself, instead of dragging about, looking tired and worn down. You ain't got many years in yah left, soon, the gray hair will come." Wyanet pauses, then says, "And what business am I in, Skelaghe?" She asks point blankly, curiously lifting up a brow to her. "Maybe I do have thin skin." She says, rubbing the back of her neck some, fingers raking into her skin a bit roughly.
Skelaghe does her best not to look tired or worn down, and she might be insulted by Wyanet saying she drags herself around, but then, half of this conversation is about how Wyanet /shouldn't/ be insulted by what was a simple, innocuous statement. "Come now, this is foolish. There is no reason for us to be arguing like this." Besides that, she has no desire to answer that question. Such things are better left to the nighttime, in seedy businesses. Finally, Skelaghe does stand, holding the clothes she was mending in one hand as she does so. "You know, I bet some breakfast would fix you right up, settle your mood. Why don't you follow me?" Because if food cannot fix everything, what else can?