Timestamp: 74th of Autumn, 513AV
Rosela heaved a sigh as she balanced the two bolts in her arms, walking them over to her work desk. One was a dark brown wool and the other was slightly lighter, speckle-patterned, brown wool. They were to be companions to a pristine white wool that was already out, and made into sweaters. The white wool would be more dominant in the women's sweaters, as not many men would be willing to wear something that stained so easily. Rosela had to carefully limit the amount of white she allowed herself to use, as even the women of the city were rough and tumble enough to want to avoid the stainable colors. Such a pity too - white wool was adorable.
Irritated with her inability to decide, she tossed both bolts onto the table, the lighter of the two immediately bouncing off. A quick dive and Rosela managed to save it, but she banged one of her hands on the edge of the table in the process. Growling angrily, she sucked the back of the offending hand and collapsed into her chair.
Her winter line was taking much longer than she'd anticipated and she'd found herself without inspiration more often than she cared to admit. She'd made four whole designs incorporating the heavy black wool that she'd apparently forgotten she'd run out of. Adding to her general discontent was the weather; it was getting far too cold for her tastes, though as usual, no one in town seemed to share her opinion. To top it all off, the 'master plan' sheet she'd hung above her work desk to remind her of the goal she worked towards was only seeming to remind her how little time actually had. When was she supposed to learn perfumery when she barely had time for her clothing? How would she ever take control of her own supplies if she didn't even have time to go look at looms, let alone learn the trade?
She needed a break. Something - anything - to break the monotony she'd allowed herself to descend into.
Laying her head on the back of the chair as she slumped bonelessly, she wondered if she should do another inspiration-walk. She'd stopped needing them after last year, but walking about in the city, just looking at what people were wearing, had helped her find inspiration on several occasions. However, the chill autumn wind that was currently occupying the city was an immediate deterrent to the idea.
"Shadows? Have you ever been to Eyktol?" She mused aloud, letting her mind wander. The shadows were usually good for a distraction, if nothing else.
"We are everywhere. Our Mother walks in all lands."
"Hmm, I guess she would. What about other gods? Do you listen to them at all?"
"If our Mother wills it."
Flexing her toes inside her boots, one hand played absently with the chiffon of her dress. She hated being idle. "Do you talk to other gods?"
"Many do not acknowledge us. We are only our Mother's children to them."
Rosela considered the other gods she knew of. She saw Wysar last year's Council meeting, but he'd been overshadowed, in her mind, by Akajia's presence. Outside of that...most of she knew of the pantheon was what she remembered from her childhood theology studies. She knew who did what, but that was it.
She sat up, blinking slowly as she stared unseeing into the shadows. A divinely inspired line of clothing would give her some fresh inspiration, and may even be something she could continue year-round. Hopping out of her chair, she spun her fur-lined cloak over her shoulders and headed out. She could only hope the library was well heated.
OOC Note :
This thread references [url]another solo[/url] in which Rosela makes extensive plans for the future of her business, including greatly expanding the items she offers, controlling her supply lines, and extending her business beyond Riverfall. Not neccessary to read to understand this thread, but having at least this summary will help.
Rosela heaved a sigh as she balanced the two bolts in her arms, walking them over to her work desk. One was a dark brown wool and the other was slightly lighter, speckle-patterned, brown wool. They were to be companions to a pristine white wool that was already out, and made into sweaters. The white wool would be more dominant in the women's sweaters, as not many men would be willing to wear something that stained so easily. Rosela had to carefully limit the amount of white she allowed herself to use, as even the women of the city were rough and tumble enough to want to avoid the stainable colors. Such a pity too - white wool was adorable.
Irritated with her inability to decide, she tossed both bolts onto the table, the lighter of the two immediately bouncing off. A quick dive and Rosela managed to save it, but she banged one of her hands on the edge of the table in the process. Growling angrily, she sucked the back of the offending hand and collapsed into her chair.
Her winter line was taking much longer than she'd anticipated and she'd found herself without inspiration more often than she cared to admit. She'd made four whole designs incorporating the heavy black wool that she'd apparently forgotten she'd run out of. Adding to her general discontent was the weather; it was getting far too cold for her tastes, though as usual, no one in town seemed to share her opinion. To top it all off, the 'master plan' sheet she'd hung above her work desk to remind her of the goal she worked towards was only seeming to remind her how little time actually had. When was she supposed to learn perfumery when she barely had time for her clothing? How would she ever take control of her own supplies if she didn't even have time to go look at looms, let alone learn the trade?
She needed a break. Something - anything - to break the monotony she'd allowed herself to descend into.
Laying her head on the back of the chair as she slumped bonelessly, she wondered if she should do another inspiration-walk. She'd stopped needing them after last year, but walking about in the city, just looking at what people were wearing, had helped her find inspiration on several occasions. However, the chill autumn wind that was currently occupying the city was an immediate deterrent to the idea.
"Shadows? Have you ever been to Eyktol?" She mused aloud, letting her mind wander. The shadows were usually good for a distraction, if nothing else.
"We are everywhere. Our Mother walks in all lands."
"Hmm, I guess she would. What about other gods? Do you listen to them at all?"
"If our Mother wills it."
Flexing her toes inside her boots, one hand played absently with the chiffon of her dress. She hated being idle. "Do you talk to other gods?"
"Many do not acknowledge us. We are only our Mother's children to them."
Rosela considered the other gods she knew of. She saw Wysar last year's Council meeting, but he'd been overshadowed, in her mind, by Akajia's presence. Outside of that...most of she knew of the pantheon was what she remembered from her childhood theology studies. She knew who did what, but that was it.
She sat up, blinking slowly as she stared unseeing into the shadows. A divinely inspired line of clothing would give her some fresh inspiration, and may even be something she could continue year-round. Hopping out of her chair, she spun her fur-lined cloak over her shoulders and headed out. She could only hope the library was well heated.
