The Great Bazaar
12 Winter, 513AV
Around Noon
Wanda gently touched a pair of fingers to her lips. The sensitive skin was cracking and bleeding, dried out from the Winter air.
The season had rolled in far colder than anyone had anticipated, and the clothing market was certainly taking advantage of the situation. Nearly everyone with spare cloth to sell had their product set out, flapping it in the faces of startled browsers who were probably only looking for some new dinnerware.
Some such "man of business" (as he'd so charmingly put it) was leering at Wanda from across his booth. The first thing Wanda had noticed about him was his grubby face. That was about five chimes ago. Now, Wanda found herself glancing warily at his grubby paw of a hand as it tapped impatiently on the counter.
"So what'll it be, lady?"
Hm? Oh, yeah. Before her sore lips had distracted her, Wanda had been in the middle of picking a sweater. The vendor had laid two different ones before her. The best of his stock. Not that that was saying much -- they were each fairly ugly in their own way.
One was an olive button-up which had since lost its buttons and had now been sewn closed down the front. The sleeves were too short. The other was a simple, gray, woolen shirt with too many patches to count. It seemed to be made of a sturdier, warmer material than the other and, though the sleeves were a bit baggy, they were the right length.
The man gazed Wanda up and down as he waited with a lecherous grin, giving the girl a feeling of being doused in mud.
"This one," Wanda declared, breathing a sigh of relief that she would soon be away from this man. The fellow folded the patched sweater and pushed it towards her, tucking and other away in some hidden box.
The man belched.
"You're disgusting," Wanda blurted. What? It was true.
The man kept the smile on his face. "Some would disagree with you."
"I doubt that."
"I like a challenge."
"Riiight."
The man shrugged. "Three silver mizas."
Wanda wrinkled her nose. Besides the man's rank breath, that price was definitely more than the shirt was worth, but who was she to complain? She'd pulled in a pretty nifty paycheck from the Fall season, and she didn't want to be in this guy's company any longer than she had to.
She fished around in her coin purse, found the coins, placed them on the table, snatched her purchase, turned, and walked away. Behind her, the vendor whistled.
Wanda had made her way to his booth because the other clothing sellers seemed to be pretty busy. Now they weren't, and she made her way to the next shop easily, glad to be able to leave the man's stench behind.
ReceiptShirt, wool (medium), used (good), Med. size. Estimated price, 1sm 2cm. Actual cost, 3sm.
12 Winter, 513AV
Around Noon
Wanda gently touched a pair of fingers to her lips. The sensitive skin was cracking and bleeding, dried out from the Winter air.
The season had rolled in far colder than anyone had anticipated, and the clothing market was certainly taking advantage of the situation. Nearly everyone with spare cloth to sell had their product set out, flapping it in the faces of startled browsers who were probably only looking for some new dinnerware.
Some such "man of business" (as he'd so charmingly put it) was leering at Wanda from across his booth. The first thing Wanda had noticed about him was his grubby face. That was about five chimes ago. Now, Wanda found herself glancing warily at his grubby paw of a hand as it tapped impatiently on the counter.
"So what'll it be, lady?"
Hm? Oh, yeah. Before her sore lips had distracted her, Wanda had been in the middle of picking a sweater. The vendor had laid two different ones before her. The best of his stock. Not that that was saying much -- they were each fairly ugly in their own way.
One was an olive button-up which had since lost its buttons and had now been sewn closed down the front. The sleeves were too short. The other was a simple, gray, woolen shirt with too many patches to count. It seemed to be made of a sturdier, warmer material than the other and, though the sleeves were a bit baggy, they were the right length.
The man gazed Wanda up and down as he waited with a lecherous grin, giving the girl a feeling of being doused in mud.
"This one," Wanda declared, breathing a sigh of relief that she would soon be away from this man. The fellow folded the patched sweater and pushed it towards her, tucking and other away in some hidden box.
The man belched.
"You're disgusting," Wanda blurted. What? It was true.
The man kept the smile on his face. "Some would disagree with you."
"I doubt that."
"I like a challenge."
"Riiight."
The man shrugged. "Three silver mizas."
Wanda wrinkled her nose. Besides the man's rank breath, that price was definitely more than the shirt was worth, but who was she to complain? She'd pulled in a pretty nifty paycheck from the Fall season, and she didn't want to be in this guy's company any longer than she had to.
She fished around in her coin purse, found the coins, placed them on the table, snatched her purchase, turned, and walked away. Behind her, the vendor whistled.
Wanda had made her way to his booth because the other clothing sellers seemed to be pretty busy. Now they weren't, and she made her way to the next shop easily, glad to be able to leave the man's stench behind.
ReceiptShirt, wool (medium), used (good), Med. size. Estimated price, 1sm 2cm. Actual cost, 3sm.
