Open | Some used your name for glory

[kadia]

WHO: Colin, Kadi, and you.
WHAT: Catch-all/open
WHEN: July and August
WHERE: Various places in Northcliff Pass
NOTES: Starters inside. cw: mentions of a cult and the abuses of it.

Comments

[keenly]

Colin gives Faro the space to sit down, smiling shyly.

"My mother," he confirms. "She was from Aguil. She met my father when he was a sailor. They fell in love and decided to move back to Maireglenne to become farmers. She taught me everything I know about flavors, really. The ones she was used to were so different. So she was always cooking and baking so she could have a taste of home. And so we could taste what she tasted growing up."

[sampler]

He settles in, tankard plonked on the table and body turned slightly towards Colin. Farogil listens intently, smiling at the fondness he can hear in the man's voice as he speaks of his mother's and her cooking.

"What was your favorite?"

[keenly]

"She'd get fish and freshwater prawns and make something with rice and saffron and her special spice blend. The spices are hard to come by, and there were six of us, so we didn't have it very often. I make it whenever my sister comes to visit."

A glance toward the fire, then back at Farogil.

"What about you? Where'd you learn embroidery?"

[sampler]

The way Farogil raises his eyebrows and curls his lips suggest he would also find that meal delicious. He's readying himself to ask if the rest of his siblings ever visit when Colin speaks first.

"Oh, I- I liked to draw and write but my mmother-," he pauses, mouth opening and adjusting while he chooses his words, "instead of being a monk or painter, suggested broider."

It's mostly true. He was outright forbidden from any trade or hobby that would have him in front of influential people or in churches where someone might make unwanted connections. Even embroidery is pushing it, but when he first pleaded to be allowed to apprentice as broider, he promised his mother and "patron" that he would partner with a tailor who could accept commissions on his behalf.

[keenly]

That seems peculiar. Being able to write is a highly marketable skill, and if Farogil enjoyed it, why wouldn't he go with that? Although he supposes embroidery is like more expensive drawing. He bobs his head.

"I used to draw some. Back when the magistrate taught me and my sister to read and write, and there was paper about. The only paper I keep in my house is to write her with, so."

A mild-mannered shrug. This isn't so hard. He's making an actual friend. Or, he thinks so.

[sampler]

Again he mentions his sister and only his sister, and Faro catches on that perhaps the rest of his family is deceased, or at least not available to visit or write. Good thing he hadn't asked about them before!

Faro takes a swig of his ale -proper ale tonight, not small beer- and inclines his head with curiosity, "What did you like to draw?"

[keenly]

“Water and plants.” A shrug. “Raindrops on a leaf, or a creek. Flowers. Things like that.” He doesn’t know what it is about water that draws him, but there it is. “What about you?”

[sampler]

That answer makes Farogil grin. "The same. Flowers and vines and... busy patterns."

He holds his wrist up between them and taps at the cuff of his shirt; like most of his clothes, there's embroidery around the hems because he can't help himself. This tunic has about an inch wide band of a complex, repeating vine pattern in green that's a few shades deeper than the mossy color of the fabric.

Faro knows his style and sticks to it.