Cecelia Wynn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inthemoonlight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-03-14 08:42 pm
inthemoonlight) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-03-14 08:42 pm
{ OPEN } it is a truth universally acknowledged
who: Cecelia and OPEN!
what: out and about in the inhabited area
when: March 13-18
where: downtown inhabited area
warnings: n/a
{ at work; march 13th-16th }
Cecelia is fortunate she has some talent that is useful in this place. A young lady's skills were meant to attract a husband and little else, and through unconventional means, she had already obtained that once. The occupation of musician isn't really considered proper for a woman of her station, but her "station" doesn't seem to exist here anyway, so what harm is there in it? It provides her with an income and she enjoys doing it. With so many options for food in Riverview Quarantine, the establishments compete to bring in the customers and one way to do that is through live music. While many young ladies learned the pianoforte, Cecelia's talents lie in the harp. She doesn't have her own here, but her employers provide the instruments for her. The harps are large, pedal harps that she tunes manually before each performance. At restaurants, she is usually seated on a small, raised platform so the diners can see her, where she performs slow, relaxing music, but at the cafes, she is tucked away in a corner or near a large window. It is also in the cafes where she can easily converse with the patrons while playing jolly tunes with a faster pace. Whenever her shift is done and she's leaving the restaurants, she then has time to talk.
{ out shopping; march 17th }
It must be a comical sight, this woman in her Regency dress staring with alarm at a silver sequined mini skirt on a mannequin. She's utterly baffled as to why anyone would wear such a thing. Not only is it far too revealing, but it doesn't even look comfortable. Curiously, she reaches out and touches a sequin, frowning at the texture. It feels terrible! She already knows of a tailor who will make her whatever she requests, but her collection of clothes will be slow to grow as she waits for her next paycheck. Personally tailored clothes cost more than this ready made selection, after all. And so she's just looking to see if anything here can work for her. Perhaps a dressing gown and nightdress? Slippers? Oh, is that a perfume bottle? She wanders over to a perfume counter with testers and picks up a bottle, lifting off the cap and turning it over with a confused look that's becoming standard for her. How is she meant to apply this if the cap is hollow, and not tapered glass to apply the perfumed oil to her wrist? Someone please save her before she sprays perfume into her eye.
{ floor 2; during a power outage; march 18th }
While the loss of electricity may be a big deal to some, for a woman who grew up in a time before electricity or gas lighting, Cecelia is perfectly at ease. Candles provide more than enough light for her, and she's delighted that they smell so pleasant! In her time, candles for the elite were made of beeswax and tallow for the lower classes. She recalls heading downstairs to speak with the head of the household maids and the smell of beef in the air. With the random loss of electric light, Cecelia has stocked up on a plethora of scented candles and has them lit throughout the communal floor, though she's tried to use ones that smell nice together. The kitchen has peaches, the living area an ocean breeze, and the bathroom is sweet pea. She sits next to a window, using what natural light is left in the day plus those blue ocean candles on a nearby table to read a book from the library. She has a lot of history to catch up on, but she's happy to set down the book and chat with whomever comes through.
what: out and about in the inhabited area
when: March 13-18
where: downtown inhabited area
warnings: n/a
{ at work; march 13th-16th }
Cecelia is fortunate she has some talent that is useful in this place. A young lady's skills were meant to attract a husband and little else, and through unconventional means, she had already obtained that once. The occupation of musician isn't really considered proper for a woman of her station, but her "station" doesn't seem to exist here anyway, so what harm is there in it? It provides her with an income and she enjoys doing it. With so many options for food in Riverview Quarantine, the establishments compete to bring in the customers and one way to do that is through live music. While many young ladies learned the pianoforte, Cecelia's talents lie in the harp. She doesn't have her own here, but her employers provide the instruments for her. The harps are large, pedal harps that she tunes manually before each performance. At restaurants, she is usually seated on a small, raised platform so the diners can see her, where she performs slow, relaxing music, but at the cafes, she is tucked away in a corner or near a large window. It is also in the cafes where she can easily converse with the patrons while playing jolly tunes with a faster pace. Whenever her shift is done and she's leaving the restaurants, she then has time to talk.
{ out shopping; march 17th }
It must be a comical sight, this woman in her Regency dress staring with alarm at a silver sequined mini skirt on a mannequin. She's utterly baffled as to why anyone would wear such a thing. Not only is it far too revealing, but it doesn't even look comfortable. Curiously, she reaches out and touches a sequin, frowning at the texture. It feels terrible! She already knows of a tailor who will make her whatever she requests, but her collection of clothes will be slow to grow as she waits for her next paycheck. Personally tailored clothes cost more than this ready made selection, after all. And so she's just looking to see if anything here can work for her. Perhaps a dressing gown and nightdress? Slippers? Oh, is that a perfume bottle? She wanders over to a perfume counter with testers and picks up a bottle, lifting off the cap and turning it over with a confused look that's becoming standard for her. How is she meant to apply this if the cap is hollow, and not tapered glass to apply the perfumed oil to her wrist? Someone please save her before she sprays perfume into her eye.
{ floor 2; during a power outage; march 18th }
While the loss of electricity may be a big deal to some, for a woman who grew up in a time before electricity or gas lighting, Cecelia is perfectly at ease. Candles provide more than enough light for her, and she's delighted that they smell so pleasant! In her time, candles for the elite were made of beeswax and tallow for the lower classes. She recalls heading downstairs to speak with the head of the household maids and the smell of beef in the air. With the random loss of electric light, Cecelia has stocked up on a plethora of scented candles and has them lit throughout the communal floor, though she's tried to use ones that smell nice together. The kitchen has peaches, the living area an ocean breeze, and the bathroom is sweet pea. She sits next to a window, using what natural light is left in the day plus those blue ocean candles on a nearby table to read a book from the library. She has a lot of history to catch up on, but she's happy to set down the book and chat with whomever comes through.
quick question: are his ears uncovered?
Placing her finger on top, she presses down and a spray of perfume shoots out, surprising her.
"Oh!" she exclaims, quickly setting the bottle and cap back on the counter. "Good heavens. Is that supposed to happen?"
lets go with yes!
It's not so much a guess based on time period - what's a Regency era? He doesn't know - but an assumption that maybe she's rich and used to the kind of expensive perfumes that only need like a single drop to last all day, rather than the less concentrated sprays.
no subject
"I am, yes." Her gaze lifts to look at the man again, and what she at first mistook for part of a hat, she now sees are actually his ears. Her eyes widen in surprise, and her lips part to say something about their shape before she thinks better of it and closes her mouth once more. It would be utterly rude to speak of his ears in such a way, despite how curious she is as to how they got that way.
"I suppose I will have to add this to the ever-growing list of new things I am being exposed to here." Again she lifts the bottle and this time holds out a wrist to spray. She wrinkles her nose as her shot lands mostly on her sleeve. Her aim isn't very good, but to be fair, she's not used to the act of spraying.
no subject
(He doesn't miss her look at his ears, but decides to see if she's bold enough to say something.)
But when she sprays her wrist, his nose wrinkles a little, "It won't last as long as oil, just so you know. They dilute that shit to make it cheaper."
He has expensive taste for someone who's broke like half the time.
no subject
"Well," she begins slowly, "Perhaps they also sell perfume oil somewhere here."
no subject
"I know I'm real handsome, pumpkin, but no need to get so flustered!" He's doubtful that's actually what she's upset about, but he's not going to let something like the truth get in the way of either his ego. Plus he's kind of curious to know what's actually bothering her, and this is the best way to find out.
no subject
"That is not the cause of my discomposure!" Really, this is too much for her delicate sensibilities. At least she's not prone to fainting. "Your language was very crude and where I am from, we do not say such things in polite company." She pauses to take a breath and regain her wits. "Now I know I am not at home, and if it is different in your world, I can understand that. But when one is taken by surprise, one tends to show it."
no subject
Well there's that little mystery solved, and Taako laughs, though it's amused rather than mocking, just at how silly this whole place is, with all these people who get hung up on the weirdest shit. Like swearing, or magic, or elves. He's so used to weird stuff that he's immune to almost anything, at this point, but that doesn't hold true for everyone, apparently.
"I gotta say, I'm the absolute opposite of polite company, so jot that down, but I'll try my best to cut down on the swears," This will last all of five minutes, probably, but at least he'll make the attempt.
no subject
"Mrs Cecelia Wynn," she adds, giving a slight curtsy to him.
no subject
"Taako, of New Elfington," His last name is probably fake as hell so there's no point giving it and telling her where he comes from might just be a little bit teasing, since she seems like the type of posh person who does that sort of thing.
He's a jerk.
no subject
"Thank you for the help with the perfume."