Commission?

StarCraft Courtyard

Alexander walks in from the Hold Field.

Elle saunters with the best of 'em in from the Hold Field.

Elle
Dusky skin swathes a body of near stocky status, yet rounded with the ample curves of a sultry vixen. Keen face is framed by sparce, silken locks of sloe, glistening tresses that crescent along ends, lightly brushing slight shoulders. Oval face is shaped with high cheekbones, defiant chin, slightly upturned nose, artfully sculpted eyebrows of sable, a thin-lipped mouth ever turned upward to one side --smooth grin tickled with mystery. And then the catalyst... those hypnotic eyes that are so impossibly dramatic against her olive skin. Absolutly huge, slanted much as a feline's would be, brimming with amusement, and of a color so vibrant that all else pales in comparison. A rich jungle blue-green slid with gilding would be the only way to describe the remarkable hue, a color unlike any other and contrasting heavily with shadowed and buxom features.
Not a tad shy, rider appears as though she was poured into her eye-catching leathers. Taylored suede, damson depths slide close to torso with angled sleeves to mid-bicept. Pavonian colar folds up to frame 'round neck and then drops low in a buttoned V with tiny circle of sterling. Skin-tight wherhide glosses over rounded curve of hips, outlines mold 'bout muscles of thighs and calves. Warring swirls of like damson, rich cerise, and madder blue eddy and swirl with relentless turmoil along legs' length to meet laced, calf-high boots; stteply heeled and gossed natural.
Orange and Black, with a touch of green, show with her Ista Weyr Assistant WeyrlingMaster's knot. And one cannot forget her FireStorm wingrider's badge.
Elle is 30 Turns, 7 months, and 10 days old.

Alexander
Stormy grey eyes the color of germanium alloy glitter in a clear face, dented slightly by the dark smile that toys occasionally upon his non cupid bow lips (sorry to disappoint). Tousled russet hair, like heavy, coarse locks with their bronze highlights usual tumble into his eyes, except for now, when they are tangled beyond hope from Alex's efforts at cultivating a Pern-fro. Short for his age, lean figure is dark from endless days in the sun and dirt, skin burnished to warm olive with intermittant tan lines. His form is covered in various scrapes and bruises, testifying to all the banging his body's received in its few turns.
He is wearing a loose white tanktop and baggy red shorts with a black stripe running down the side. On his feet are battered sandals that aren't very aesthetically pleasing, but durable enough. Alexander carries his Alex's Thwaping Stick by his side, in a leather sheath.
The double-corded knot of a Steward's Assistant is pinned to Alexander's shoulder in a single loop of forest green and royal blue. Amazingly, it manages to be relatively untangled.
Alexander is 12 Turns, 2 months, and 5 days old.

Alexander points to the Mighty StarCraft Courtyard. "Oh. StarCraft," he says needlessly, bowing with a flourish to the sultry dragonrider.

Linora grins at the boy with the permanent bad-hair-day, remembering him from the waterfall. "Hi." A look is cast on said dragonrider... okay, a stare. Lin's not too worldly. Blinkblink, she refocuses her eyes. On something else. The pern-fro, yeah. Or was it a puff?

The boy with the attempted Pern-fro waves happily to Linora, setting down a watering can next to the wall.

Elle strides across the yard, arms running down the front of her top to smooth down the leather. Narrowed eyes sweep the area, "Definitly a foreign land." She sniffs, then glances about the area, "Star-people, eh?"

Alexander nods. "Well, I wouldn't really call them people, but .. eh.. yeah." He should just shut up.

"StarCrafters." The words are out of Lin's mouth before she can think to censor them. The boy with the bad hair gets a /look/. We are /so/ people. Hmph. She looks the rider over again.

Elle bobs her head vaguely, still glancing about the area, and not so much at the people now. "Sure." Eyes breifly focus upon the doors, then go wandering about again, "I need something. Apparently you people can posibly get it for me." At last, her eyes drop to peer quite intently at Linora, "I need stars."

Alexander smacks himself on the forehead. "Why didn't you *say* so, ma'am?" he mutters, and mills around the courtyard disconcertingly. "I could just punch a kidlet for you until they see stars, and there you go!"

Linora shifts a bit under the weight of the rider's stare. This is apparently a person who's accustomed to getting what she wants. "The actual real stars? D'you have any idea how far away they are, an' how big?"

Alexander frames Linora's head in his hand by touching the tips of his index finger to his tumb. Ah. "They're only like this big. You could probably stick one in the palm of your hand. And they're mighty convenient, and tasty too."

Elle could care less, actually. "My daughter wants stars above her bed. She means to sleep outside, but no child of mine will ever do any such thing. Do you happen to have anything that will work? A moon or two would help too." Alexander is hardly given a look, except for a blatant sniff at his mentioning of hitting someone.

Alexander sets his chin on his hand. "Hmm..." he murmurs in sincere curiosity. "Methinks, madam, that *Vintner* hall might be the Craft you're looking for after all."

Linora decides to ignore the boy. He's not making any sense, anyhow. She grins up at the rider. "Well, it'd be easy enough t'paint some charts up there. A lotta the journeymen have constellations and stuff painted on their walls and ceilings. An' some of 'em even glow in the dark and stuff."

Elle's finger lifts at the suggestion. "Oh, would that be possible? Actually painting the stars and such on her walls... it most certainly won't go with the rest of the decour, but if it will stop the girl from thinking sleeping in the dirt is just fine... I'm sold."

Alexander hmms. "Maybe you could hang some teeny tiny glowbaskets from her ceiling in the shape of a constellation. Like.. glows in a nutshell. Literally."

Linora beams. "Sure it'd be possible. You prolly oughtta talk to at /least/ a journeyman, but it'll prolly be a bunch of appies like me actually doing the work." Glows in a nutshell? Hm. She just can't help eyeing the boy again, before turning her attention back to the rider. "Oh... I'm Linora." Better late than never, no?

Alexander glares at Linora, annoyed at being talked over. Don't judge a man by his hair, yo. He grumbles and pours water on a bug just to see it swim through the puddle and out.

"Yes, a journeyman is more learned in craft ways than an apprentice, right?" Yes, she honestly doesn't seem to sure about this, not being a crafter herself, or ever. "I'll have to speak to one of those." As the apprentice gives her name, rider nods faintly, "Elle of Ista Weyr, Larisseth's rider... Larisseth's..." She draws silent, slowly turning her head in the direction of Gar Hold's courtyard. Mumbling under her breath, "I thought I told her the animals were off limits... even the felines." A sort of placating grin is given the pair, "She tends to thinks pets are food when she gets hungry." Taking a step backward, she gives Linora a bob of the head, "I'll have to come back another time." As she wonders away, you can hear her mumbling about white blotches on the ceiling and the horror of it all... it will completely throw off the entire weyr's color skeme.

Elle saunters with the best of 'em to the Gar Hold Field.