Post by resonate on Jan 30, 2012 13:22:38 GMT -5
Another boring day...
The germanium's had all had their water changed three times today, but their leaves kept on drying out and dropping off. They must have some form of fungal infection, one that was being spread through the roots and was most likely unique to the germanium's only. It would be a long process to remove them all, but for now, other matters were at hand.
She had already been commissioned to create several wreaths for Oly-jii and his wife's 60th anniversary and their son was supposed to be coming round with the payment today. Such a nice young boy too, very helpful. In fact, he had offered to help around her a couple of times, to which Maria politely refused. No one touched the flowers except for her.
A small bell tolled the arrival of another customer, as she set down her unfinished wreath twisting and the cranberry's she had carefully preserved. She looked up at the door, seeing a rather handsome young face peering back at her. She smiled, waving to Oly-jii's son Oliver, who stepped forward with a sharp but polite greeting.
"Hello Miss Nobelle, it is a pleasure to see you again."
"No need to be so formal, Oliver, what can I do for you?"
"I'm here for two reasons today, Miss. First is your payment from my father, 4000 beri as promised. And I would also like to place another commission on behalf of my friend Ryon and his fiancée Yui."
"Oh? So the two decided to get married after all then? Let me guess, you want me to make some decorations for the wedding ceremony?"
"It'd be a big help, Miss."
"Consider it done, for the standard fee of 4000 beri, due in two days."
"I shall rely to them the news. Thank you, Miss Nobelle."
Before she could reply, he was already charging out of the door and up the street, most likely to find Ryon and Yui. She poked at the leather pouch containing her payment for a minute, before shoving it aside to continue her work, threading the small twig branch of the cranberries into the finely stretched and twisted fig branches that made up the main area of the wreath. Next, the maple leaves for the bottom of the wreath, where the name plate would be fixed. Three leaves were threaded in to create a base colour for the golden strip of metal and their silver rivets. Pushing the rivet pins through the leaves and expanding them at the bottom where they were caught by the fig branches. She would have to visit Stephi the Smith later to fix the names, Maria was no good at that kind of thing and this had to be picture perfect, just like the three others she had done.
She sighed, leaning back in her comfy leather armchair to look at the wreath. And again, she marvelled at it's perfection, setting it aside in it's red velvet case for later. Placing her head in her hands she rubbed her cheeks to wake herself and remove any sign of fatigue from her features. 'Tired faces don't sell', she told herself, but her hand continued to shake furiously as she reached for the pen. Had she overdone it this time? Perhaps she should take a nap for a while, set her alarm clock and just take a snooze. But then she reminded herself that these commissions don't just go away if you sleep it off. She had no idea when the wedding was, and she wasn't going to find out the hard way.
But she agreed with her mind, if but partially, she should do something to clear her mind, maybe some practice with the bow? It seemed like a good idea at first, but did she really want to fix her shaking hands by working them to the bone? She thought about it for a second and shifted slightly in her seat.
The cool breeze moved past her face as the joys of being outside filled her lungs for the first time in two days. Strapping her quiver to her back, she began as her training always did, thirty press-ups with the full weight of the arrows on her back and then a short-range triple shot to hit each of the targets, rinse and repeat.
She sat, nursing a slightly sprained ankle after her thirty press-ups, before drawing her bow and standing, ignoring the pain in her leg. She pulled forth three arrows from the quiver in a fluid motion, drawing them back the way she had been taught so many times before. She twisted her wrist, so that the bow lay parallel to the ground with her arm facing the earth, the truly easier way to fire three shots, rather than vertical or the rookie's mistake of switching with the wrist facing the sky. She pulled hard and the string stretched back, her index finger lazily flicking the composite mode switch, meaning the wings of the bow drew back even further. Then it all let loose, the string snapping forward, sending the arrow's in three directions, striking the targets in the direct centre.
She smiled slyly, before pulling forth another three...