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Post by Formorian Carlisle on Sept 8, 2008 20:26:07 GMT -5
The busy streets of Paris bustled loudly with people, as the small woman made her way amidst the splash of colors that happened to be the fine women of France. Their bustled gowns giving them ample space at the hips and down for the skirting. Formorian's was a smaller and more simpler replica of these designs, to show she was not a poor woman nor was she rich. Her gowns were of course thanks to her cousin in Calais as he was beyond well to do. Even as she earned in the Populaire he'd sent her a monthly income that she could not touch until married.
A little something that she had forgotten about as it were per her father's request before he'd become deceased from this world. In truth the fortune remaining was that of her father's passed on to the only living relative that had been male. Such a kind man her cousin! The small purse in her ivory gloved hand was a token of his affection for his only blood relative aside from his own children when he had them.
Dressed in her simple gowns that were still the hype of England for the middle class of women that could afford them. Formorian fit right in with the splashing colors, her own was a light green with a floral pattern ghosting the skirts, a few bells of ruffled lace falling at her elbows. A parasol was held in the other hand to shield her features. One that greatly went along with the ensemble of her gown shoes and purse, her hat just the same.
Pursing her pink lips she walked along the shops of the side, passing jewelers who called for her attention until they saw fine dressed gentleman. Then she was abandoned or even when they glimpsed an even diviner woman who could use that pearl necklace better than she. In the end, Formorian Carlisle, was all for one of the fabric shops that specialized in more wedding gown attires than most anything.
Timidly she'd entered, spoken with the owner who had quoted her on a few gowns. Steep the price but there was one she absolutely fell in love with that the sight of it made her swoon. Certainly she could save to pay even half this gown, then send a letter in the hopes her cousin would send his blessing in her marriage and a gift of the remaining amount to boot. If none of that went to plan simply, she'd purchase a lesser dress. Yet one held her heart and thanking the shop-owner with a wave of her kerchief she exited the shop.
Her mind had fluttered to Riffael who had given her a playful and possessive growl after she'd left off with his lunch. Telling him quite simply she'd be on about her business in Paris. It wasn't common to see her dressed as she was, for rarely had she left the Populaire. Now she had business to attend and things to see. The money in her purse jingled with the need to be spent, and wisely so.
Stepping into another shop, the bell ringing above her head as the door closed. The scent of male cologne was in the shop for the small perfume counter to the immediate left, the rest was that of shirts, pants, fabric, and tailors awaiting to serve the fine gentlemen. To have a lady in the shop wasn't odd but not entirely a custom until around the Christmas times.
"Hello Mademoiselle. Can I help you?" A man asked, with his tape around his neck, hanging there. A few gentleman who stood on pedestals getting their measurements done didn't fail to eye her as she removed her hat, and held her parasol now closed in a gloved hand. Smiling a sweet smile.
"Yes indeed. I'd like a pair of shirts, trousers, shoes, suspenders, yes yes...a coat also." Looking about she pointed to a few things here or there. "Gloves..no no leather. Those. Yes." She dictated and even though she purchased the fabrics that were not as fine, she compiled one bit of clothing that was indeed worthy of a gentleman. Separately they packaged the items thinking that one was for her workers, the other for her husband, brother, or possibly a gift for a true gentleman.
Carefully set into boxes and bagged, she curtsied and exited the shop, a small bottle of cologne in her purse as another gift for her beloved. Stepping back out into the busy street, she put up her parasol and secured her hat before continuing on. Bag in hand, she just might stop and take a small cup of tea, she knew there was about three Francs left in her tiny purse.
What to do what to do...Idly she bumped into someone and gasped.
"Pardon! I was not looking where I was going." She said her blue eyes wide and apologetic.
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Post by anya on Sept 10, 2008 15:05:05 GMT -5
Anastasia thought she needed some time outside of the Opéra Populaire. Besides who could stay inside when it was such a beautiful day? She felt bad for the cast members that had to stay inside that day, they were working so hard to try and master Romeo and Juliette and had very few breaks. Since she was in orchestra and knew all her music quite well, she was let go after a few hours of morning practice.
That's when she decided to go for a walk and maybe stop at the fabric shop to pick up some material for a couple new dresses she was making. The dress she had one was a lovely one of her own design, which was in the modern style and was dark blue with white hemlines and collar. On her small hands she had nothing covering them, just her beautiful cream skin was showing and on her head was a small blue hat, not quite as big as some of the upper class women's hats.
Her heels tapped on the sidewalk as she walked in the direction of the fabric shop, making a light and crisp sound. All the glamor of Paris was new to her, she had beautiful things at the mansion by the sea, but never so much at one time. The diamonds and rubies in the jeweler's window, the hot fresh bread and rolls at the baker's, the clothes that hung in the crystal clear windows all astounded Anya and made her speechless.
Finally she reached the fabric shop and went inside hearing a greeting from the shop owner, a older woman who was of the middle class. "Mademoiselle Anya, what are you looking for today? We just got in some silk from the East and some nice cotton fabric from America."
Anya looked in her purse and counted fifty francs, which meant that the silk would be too expensive, then again, she could use it in small strips as part of another dress. "Those sound wonderful, madame. I'll take three yards of silk and my normal amount in the cotton fabric, the silk in a darker red if you have it and a bright red for the cotton."
The shop keeper smiled and said she'd be back with her order in a few moments, before she went off into the back room. Anya decided to browse a bit while she waited, when she found an open book of dress designs. She peered inside and saw a beautiful design for a dress, actually it was more of a ball gown, but still it was a lovely piece and she believed the directions called for her size.
When the shop keeper returned, Anastasia inquired about the design. The shop keeper said she could borrow the book for as long as she needed, considering that no one used the book anymore, now that everything could be custom made. Anya gabbed the book in glee, paid the shop keeper the money and took her material before leaving the shop.
As she walked down the sidewalk, she looked at the book with amazement and saw how simple the design really was, but the model in the final product looked stunning with it on and with the right amount of jewels on her person.
She was distracted from her trek, so it was understandable why she bumped into someone. "Pardon! I was not looking where I was going." said the woman, looking very apologetic.
Anya was shocked a dropped her bag of material on the ground. None of it fell out so she simply picked up the bag again and put her book inside. "No really, it was my fault. I was looking at a book instead of where I was going."
The woman seemed familiar, Anya had seen her before but where? Most likely it was from the the Opéra, considering she only went out to do shopping and that was only once or twice every two weeks. "You look familiar, are you by any chance an employee at the Opéra Populaire?"
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Post by Formorian Carlisle on Sept 22, 2008 1:25:50 GMT -5
Her head was entirely muddled with things to do, things to come, oh how she anticipated the moment, the time, the day that her beloved would be upon bended knee. His rich curls atop his head slightly bowed over her hand as he asked her to marry him nearly had Formorian dancing on air. Well in the sense she was very light of foot as she walked and went about her business. Learning to figure her monthly income, along with the income given by her cousin. It would make for something but she'd not tell Riffael of the money that would be his when he married her.
He'd know of it after, as her cousin of course would be the one to sign over the grants, titles, and other accounts for her beloved. It would be another thing entirely that her cousin would even consent! No matter they had both agreed to live poor so long as they were both happy, together. Now her mind that had spirited off to a future that even though had been promised was just as uncertain. Had her walking into people and she gasped asking her pardon for her clumsiness.
"No really, it was my fault. I was looking at a book instead of where I was going." If only the other woman knew! She was as finely dressed as herself if not more, and Formorian flashed her a tame and timid smile. Before the other woman continued.
"You look familiar, are you by any chance an employee at the Opera Populaire?" Asked the serene voice of the woman and Formorian's smile remained constant.
"Oh yes! I so happen to work there. I am the choral instructor...I...Unfortunately and sadly...I cannot say I've seen you Mademoiselle." Formorian said apologetically now a tiny frown tugging at her pink lips.
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Post by anya on Sept 24, 2008 20:39:57 GMT -5
Anya smiled at the woman, the kind smile that would cheer anyone up. Then again, Anya didn't necessarily like the style of the smile. It was too sickly sweet, but she couldn't change it. She was born with it and could only curse her parents, bless their souls, for it.
The girl she had run into was a generally pretty. She had the hair that most girls would want and then eyes that were a lovely color as well. She also looked very kind and loving, like she had a friendly personality much like her own.
"It's quite fine. I only recognize faces, I don't know names well. But anyway, I'm in the orchestra there, a violinist. You'd probably wouldn't see me when I'm down in the pit playing music for my life. My name is Anastasia de Chateaupers, but I'm mainly known as Anya."
Her name, if the vocal instructor had heard of 'Anya the Saintly,' gave away who she was right when people of the Opera heard her name. Hopefully though this woman had not heard of her and she didn't have to worry about dealing with the typical jealously routine she got from other women. Jealously was an ugly trait in a person and no one liked it.
Her eyes drifted to the other woman's shopping bags and saw all the clothes inside. She must've been out doing her shopping, most likely for her husband or some male that she knew. "I hope I didn't mess up your belongings. They look very nice and expensive, it'd be tragic if they were damaged. Are they for a special occasion?"
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