undergrounds | [open] The lion, the witch and the sketchpad

It is a mild day, something to be grateful for when you have to spend most of it sitting outside. Siobhan has found herself a nice little perch between the paws of a lion statue, her little paper cup standing next to her. There are a few coins in there but it's a slow day. She doesn't mind, things aren't too dire. She has fastened some of her drawings on the lion, he's a helpful sort so he doesn't mind. If people stop for long enough to throw her a glance she will give them a smile and offer to draw their portrait if they can part with some change.

It would probably seem like a more attractive offer if her sketchpad wasn't so beaten up and she herself wasn't swaddled in ratty clothing that seems about to swallow her up, but you have to work with what you have, eh?

Her mother would think it a shameful thing, of course, begging. Especially since Sio does have some money coming in from other places. Then again her mother doesn't have to eat like a horse just to keep herself from wasting away. No, Mother's slender grace is the result of very careful planning indeed. Appearances are very important after all. You have to play the game.

Siobhan isn't interested in any of that. She just wants to meet some new people and scrounge up enough money for a snack.

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Well, now it's Siobhan's turn to flush, and she does so with considerably less grace than Lance since she turns a brilliant shade of red all the way from her hairline down on her neck as she accepts the twenty.

She's not even that embarrassed or flustered, really, her body just seems to have an aversion to any kind of subtlety.

"I'm glad you like it. I just taught myself, it was always easier than trying to get the hang of words."

"Well, then you taught yourself very well -- and I'm happy to have a piece of your work. But you should sign it! So that when you become a famous and terribly rich artist I can say I have an original copy of a piece of yours."

He quirks an eyebrow, holds it back out to her questioningly with a smile. Well?

"So long as you don't ask me to write anything else. My spelling's shite."

She takes the paper back and jots down her name, obviously not used to writing even if her artistic talent at least gives the letters a shape that is pleasing to the eye.

"Promise," he assures her, and takes it back with a smile -- carefully begins to roll up the picture to keep it safe. "How have you been? Planning on staying here a little longer, then?"

He pads closer with Lily, who sticks close to his heels -- shifts to take a seat on the statue's pedestal near where Siobhan had been sitting.

"Or does that depend on how many pictures you sell?"

Her expression brightens when she realises that he wants to stick around and talk for a bit, it gets so dull sitting around all on your own.

"Aye, I'm staying. I've found a cheap room and a jeweler willing to sort of have me as an apprentice which is good since I needed a workshop. Besides, I like it here."

"A jeweller? You make jewellery too?"

He supposes they're both creative forms of expression, he shouldn't be surprised, but Lancelot is always impressed when people can do these sort of things.

"What sort do you make? Forgive me if that is bold, it is only -- well, I have no such talent myself. I suppose it is interesting to learn from those who do."

"Aye, from time to time, when I have the means."

Which in all honesty isn't nearly as often as she'd like but that's how things are sometimes.

Most times, really, but she's learned to make the most of what she does have because what use is there to be sad about things when there are so many reasons to smile?

"What kind? Just for ladies or should I start commissioning pieces from you too?"

His lips quirk in idle amusement -- he doesn't really wear much in the way of jewellery, in truth, but who knows. He might start. He already has a little charm on Lily's collar, after all, that he bought at the harvest festival. Lily shoves her face into Lancelot's lap as he talks, and he ruffles at her ears fondly -- quietly shushing her every so often to try and calm her enthusiasm. Which is, of course, trick. Dogs have a lot of enthusiasm, and no desire to calm it.

"If you want something all you have to do is ask. Mostly I make amulets."

She has discovered that there really is no need to be particularly secretive about what she is and what she does, most people don't believe her anyway.

"No, no you shouldn't give things away for free. That won't keep your fridge stocked and your home warm, will it? What sort of amulets! Here, this is the only sort I own --"

Gently shoving Lily he turns her to face Siobhan a little, turning her collar so the small amulet hanging off it is visible. It's only a small one, a protection amulet to try and keep Lily from injuring herself or stumbling into doggy trouble, but it's real enough.

"I bought it during a harvest festival," he says, and flicks a small smile. He hopes it's enough to let Siobhan know that if her amulets carry real witch magic, well, it's safe enough to talk to him -- and if not? It's just an amulet he bought at a festival.

Siobhan comes down from her perch to crouch by Lily and gently touch the talisman. It's pretty good, but she'd be willing to wager that she could make something better.

"I always seem to manage."

Sometimes only barely, but managing is managing as far as she's concerned.

"I could make a better one for her."

"You think so? I'm sure she'd appreciate the helping hand."

Lily thrashes her tail in agreement, even if she isn't sure what she's agreeing with, and noses at Siobhan playfully. Such a serious face! Yet why? She should be playing! Playing is always the best thing to do! Perhaps she isn't sure how? Lily could help with that! She's very good at playing.

"She has a lot of curiosity and enthusiasm, anything that keeps her out of trouble is worthwhile I think."

[open] The lion, the witch and the sketchpad

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