St. James Boutique

Genevieve paused in pouring hot chocolate into dainty tea cups to look at Skarlet. "Mas oui, of course," she told her with a smile. The pretty blonde chuckled light-heartedly at Intaja's antics and ramblings, and offered her a cup of warm chocolate.

"Sit, sit, sil vous plait," she gestured to them to make themselves comfortable on the sofas, then handed them a cup each. "The chocolat is all the way from Gaiaton," she explained. "It is sure to be rich and hit just the spot, non?"

She also took a seat, every bit the lady, balancing her cup in slender hands. "Ah, then we have something in common! I am still new to Isra, but per'aps a fair more seasoned than you," she said to Intaja.

Then she looked between them both, sipping at her cup. "What exactly are you ladies looking for? An entire trousseau, or perhaps just a coat?"

"Wow! I only found out I was from there recently. I'm Skarlet." Skarlet takes a seat and accepts the hot chocolate, waiting for it to cool before drinking. "I was thinking I could use a whole new outfit. My current clothes were sewn by my maids but I'd like something a little more me I guess."

Intaja stares at the outfit stunned. A welling of emotions threatened to consume her. She had never had such a complex, elegantly made dress before.

"... I'll take it what a spectacularly made dress I've never seen anything like it it's truly a testimony to your skill and I don't even think I need to try it on although maybe I should I suppose though you would never intentionally mislead me as to the size but then again nobody's perfect and we all make mistakes and-" She hesitated for a moment, as though her train of thought had been suddenly derailed. "COINS!" She reached into her coin purse and pulled out two massive platinum coins. "I... think this is enough?"

But before Genevieve could respond, she noticed the leather book bag. She darted towards it so quickly that one only needed to blink to be confused at her sudden transposition. the tail of her rags settling gently as though they had been picked up by wind. "THIS is... interesting... I sense... something interesting about this... interesting thing." Her eyes were now shining a bright blue, her sixth senses flaring.

Once again she pulled out her notebook and once again runes started furiously transcribing themselves onto the pages.

"I'll take this too! What's special about it?! I sense something special about it." She didn't know what she was sensing exactly, but her third eye was quite powerful and she knew there was some sort of strange energy about the accessory. But then her homeland was full of magically gifted beings, so it didn't surprise her per say.

Genevieve beamed at them both.

"Bon, bon!" she said. "I will just wrap them for you, then, oui? Or was there anything more you might like? Please," she gestured to her quaint store, decorated for Yuletide, warm and inviting and welcoming and putting all of her customers at tranquil ease. "Look around. Stay as long as you like."

She had turned to gather up the clothing when Intaja suddenly shoved platinum coins in her face. "Non, non, this is far too much. You keep one coin and I will make change with the other." The garments draped over her arm, she was about to move away when the blue-eyed, rune-scrawling girl suddenly caught her attention again, this time exclaiming over a book bag.

"Ah, yes," Genevieve said, moving towards her. "Please, do not be alarmed. It is a very special bookbag, that has been waiting for a special person, you, to come for it." Genevieve reached out, a pretty smile of nostalgia turning her lips as she traced the gold filigree. "This bookbag will never let you down, and it will always have whatever it is you need." Genevieve's blue eyes looked up at Intaja with a wink. "It is also tres chic, non?"

Chuckling a little she moved away, and then an item caught her eye. She glanced at it, debated with herself, and then turned to Skarlet.

"Mademoiselle, perhaps this may also suit you?"

She held up a small jacket, similar in style to what she would already wear, but a little more military, and again with the gold filigree to pattern it. At once, Skarlet would be ensnared by it, as if aware that purchasing such an item would be necessary for her future.

"Oh. Hm," Genevieve says and looks at the jacket. Genevieve herself is not a very good salesperson. The items she make, she weaves her magic into, knowing that they're meant for one person and one person only. Who is that person? Genevieve never knows, yet she felt so sure that the enchanted jacket she was holding was meant for Skarlet.

Indeed, the magic of the jacket seemed to feel this way, too. The enchantment woven into its make would indeed be a boon for Skarlet's life. It was not an enchantment to trick people into buying more things, it was enchantment that was trying to make sure that Skarlet purchased the jacket because the jacket and its magical properties was MEANT for her, MADE for her. It would not work the same for anyone else.

Could Skarlet survive without the jacket? Undoubtedly. Could the jacket make Skarlet's life easier, perhaps even prolong it, perhaps even be a helpful thing? Undoubtedly. But Skarlet would never know.

Genevieve frowned lightly at this thought and put it back. It occurred to her to just offer the jacket, but she was reminded of Alden, and how he had also resisted buying the boots meant for him. Genevieve had wound up giving him the boots, but she had lost money in that. She could not afford to give away items back to back, especially when there was also another customer still in the room.

The pretty blonde shook her head and laughed at herself, then looked to Skarlet with warm blue eyes. "I will wrap your purchases." She named a tidy amount that seemed fair, and coupled with her warm and inviting air and hospitality, it seemed more like an excellent deal.

She placed the jacket back in the open boudoir where she had taken it, where other handsome jackets were also displayed, then moved to go and wrap the items up in pretty packages that was a brand and mark of having purchased something from the fashionable St. James Boutique.

Intaja grinned as she removed the book bag from its display and placed it with the package. "I'll take it too!" Her eyes gazed at the jacket in question, then shifted to Skarlet (somewhat creepily), and then turned to Genevieve, who just might notice a lustrous blue shimmer in her eyes suddenly fade away. Intaja herself would seem almost cocky. "Don't feel too bad Genevieve. I think the jacket would prefer someone more... lively." She winked at Skarlet. The air around Intaja would change as her demeanor would suddenly seem far more socially competent, even sophisticated.

But it wouldn't last. While these occasional moments suggested there was far more to Intaja than meets the eye, they were only temporary, and in a few seconds she would return to the awkward analytical girl that she generally was. This was evident by her pulling out her notebook and struggling to get it inside the case like a toddler trying to squeeze a star into a square shaped hole. She'd once again have a seat and, utterly and deadly focused, continue to struggle with the task for a good ten seconds before finally succeeding with a satisfied grin on her face. Ironically as soon as she did she'd pull it back out and start scribbling furiously once again.

"Oh, non, non, I am not offended, non," Genevieve was quick to say when Intaja spoke up to put the pretty blonde at ease when Skarlet was adamant and uncaring that she did not want to buy the coat. Genevieve was attached to her creations almost like a mother to a child. She was certainly proud of each of them, and it always sort of tinged a little when she felt as if people were denying their fate.

She moved behind the table and began to pristinely pack and fold the clothing, lining them with softly scented tissue paper and fitting them  into perfect boxes, tying them with a blush-pink bow, as was the St. James Boutique brand.

"Gauldin?" she asked with Gaulish inflection. She gave a whimsical sigh. "Oh, how I dearly miss it. It is beautiful, Skarlet. I highly recommend that you visit it again. I would go just to taste the fresh made cheese again!" A small joke as she handed the packages over in exchange for the money.

She gave Skarlet back change, and then looked over at Intaja, trying to shove her book into the small space. Genevieve was about to speak up and tell Intaja not to force it when the notebook slid easily inside. In fact, too easily, as if that small brown bag could hold a lot, lot more.

Laughing to herself, she shook her head and began to package up Intaja's things, sans the bookbag which she decided to keep with her.

The bell over the door chimed, and Genevieve's blue eyes looked up from her work to see a scraggily man enter her shop. She frowned gently, not because she didn't want him in the store, but because it seemed that he was a man in need. Genevieve was a bleeding heart, and easily and avidly lent a hand to those who appeared to need it. "Bonjour," Genevieve said to him, wiping her concerned frown away to a warm and inviting smile, "Welcome to St. James Boutique. Please, look around and I will be with you in un moment."

She turned to the girl hastily scribbling in her notebook. "Intaja, here is your change. Would you like me to finish packing your clothes, or would you prefer to change into them now?" Genevieve asked her.

If Silas did look around, he'd find his eye coat on a long, creamy-white leather coat, it's insides lined with maroon suede, and a maroon leather belt looped around its middle. It was the coat of a confident man, and it called to Silas.

(Is that a picture of Jamie Lannister?)

Silas took the coat gingerly in his arms. Yes, this is what he came for. He made his way, slowly, eyes ever on the coat, to the counter. "I'll take this. Whatever the cost." Silas set his purse, brimming with gold and silver, onto the counter. He had grown a bit hysterical in his desire. Never would he normally show all his money to a store clerk. That was bad bargaining.

Oh, the dirty joke Silas could have made to what the young women had said. Instead Silas's funny bone kicked in, "I have quite a fine figure myself," he struck an alluring pose, leg crooked, arm extended, assumed only half in humor. He he slid into the white jacket and continued, "Though I wouldn't change in public either...." He trailed off in consideration.

Silas had met a women very similar to this one named Jun. "Do people undress in public where you are from?" Silas asked cautiously.