money-makin', huh?

Medium Kitchen [-10,000G] @treetopdynamite

Rusty Fishing Rod [-4,000G] @meanderingblacksmith

Monster Glove [-5,000G] @jvckofhearts

Oh hey, wait a sec, kiddo--

Before you go, you do know what not to say if you come across a salmon walkin’ on land out there, right...?”

Profits:

[+5,000G] Rusty Fishing Rod

As soon as her eyes fell on him, she regretted this. It was stupid to come here, so unbelievably foolish–and to think she thought herself as intelligent, mature. And yet she couldn’t control herself from clinging on to the past, to him, like a desperate little girl. 

With a glance away and a tight purse of her lips, Eve bolstered her resolve. It was fine. Good, even. Confronting her lingering feelings like this, getting it into her head that she had to move on… She could get some closure here, by doing this.

She was well aware that she was lying to herself, but it worked nonetheless. She managed not to turn tail and run.

“Hello, Bado,” she greeted with a hollow smile. His name on her tongue was sweet and sour and refreshing, cold lemonade on a summer evening. And, oh, his compliment, awkward as it was–Goddess, it killed her. Every inch of her longed for more, ached for his adulation.

Not to mention ached for him.

“… Thank you.” Her smile was more real now, cheeks dusted a gentle pink. “You look good, too.” Handsome. Stunning. Perfect. She could go on and on.

A silent breath escaped her lips as she stepped closer to his counter. Her hand slid back into her purse, retrieving the little wrapped package. She looked up at him, scarlet eyes wide. His build suggested him to be a man of stone, but the creases in his cheeks chiseled by countless smiles revealed otherwise. She had adored both his firm, strong arms around her, and his beaming smiles after telling yet another awful joke…

Eve’s gaze averted almost shamefully as she set the parcel on the counter with a soft, muted clink. “It broke,” she announced flatly, though she didn’t dare unfold the handkerchief herself. It was a necklace, one of her favorites, owing in part to where it had come from. She couldn’t bear to give it up; it was truly beautiful.

Its memories were beautiful, too.

His ears twitched almost imperceptibly as something metallic within the parcel slithered against itself before making contact with the wooden counter.

Tungsten, maybe? Or... solid gold. 

He looked from the carefully folded handkerchief to her face, to find her vibrant gaze turned away. Something in his chest felt tugged slightly out of place. His own fell back to the table, to the slender, lovely hand that lingered beside the parcel, despite seeming unwilling to touch it again. After letting another silent moment pass, the blacksmith slowly reached for it.

A watch chain? He wondered, as he turned it over in his hand. It must have belonged to her grand--

No. A thickness rose in his throat. No, it was too thin, and that was thinking too much about it.

“...A necklace?” He guessed instead, glancing briefly up at her while his fingers worked to reveal it. He almost wished he hadn’t, as if saying it had made it so.

Three vivid, incarnadine sapphires glittered up at him, set in yellow gold and further complemented by two intricately chained strands of freshwater pearls-- one of which was severed, and seemed to be missing a link. He felt like he should have been more surprised to see it; perhaps all the hours he spent hunched over it at his dimly lit workbench had burned the necklace into his mind-- a permanent fixture he would never be rid of, no matter how much he imbibed.

All that work, and for what...? To see her smile? Make her laugh?

It didn’t seem so unreasonable now, with her lighting up the other end of the counter simply by standing there.

It only made sense to get this over with, while she still had a pass. She’d already put it off for a while, and she didn’t have the money to be visiting Arcadia every other week… But waiting until her next visit would encourage her to keep putting it off. At this rate, she’d just never do it. So now was the time to break the cycle.

Eve looked up at the building in front of her and slid her hand into her purse. Her fingertips found the small parcel, wrapped in a silken handkerchief. Her feet stayed locked in place, both by trepidation… and this guilty anticipation.

Part of her wanted to see him again. Just once.

She breathed in, then sighed.

The anxiety in her chest seemed to have a grip on her throat. Timid, slight footsteps heralded her presence on the wooden floor, though her heartbeat muted them as she nudged the door open.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered her, fresh on the cusp of thirty; too young for him, as he insisted many a time at the beginning of what to this day he still struggled to define (whenever memories of them were dredged up against his will from the bottom of an empty bottle). Not that his qualms had discouraged her any. Bull-headed and sharp as an awl, she was a woman who might have been considered ‘high maintenance’ by some, but to him had been a constant delight, when things were kept light.

While it was true she may have resembled herself more toward the end of their... acquaintanceship-- in technicality, and for the doe-like trepidation in her eyes-- she was still one hell of a sight for his, and it took a moment for Bado’s mind to process the reality of her presence, before permitting his mouth to speak.

“Eve... Hey, uh. Long time no see.” He forced a chuckle, while bungling about for something else to say in a mind that had gone completely blank. “You-... you look good,” he finally eked out, and internally winced. What, by the damned Native Dragons, was that supposed to be?

Nearly the whole of his ears taking on a feverish hue, the dwarf silently admonished himself to act normally, you old fool.

Date of Request: April 18th

Location: Sonata Tailoring, Arcadia

Number of People: As many as are willing

Reward: A custom-made outfit, plus snacks provided

He may have gotten ahead of himself at the offer of free food and a professionally made outfit. The combination of his height and build rendered pre-made clothing nearly impossible to come by, resulting in him having to make the majority of his wardrobe himself, which was far from ideal. As a fairly strict rule, Bado avoided any sort of work he didn’t have to do.

Open

“Idiots.”

She mumbled, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at boxes upon boxes that had just come from her hometown. The shipment was stacked tall and towering over her, which made it impossible for her to manage, and none of the workers had stayed behind to help move them into the shop where they were supposed to be placed. Well, it wasn’t impossible for her do move them herself, but still very difficult considering her height and the fact that the lightest one was twenty-five pounds. After two or three them, she’d be exhausted.

Iluka uncrossed one arm, leaving the other wrapped around her, and rubbed her temples. This was frustrating. She turned around for a breather when she saw someone walking closer. Whether they were walking her way or not wasn’t important.

“I dunno, kid... that’s a looot of boxes.” Hands propped on his hips, he made a show of craning his neck the inch or so he needed to see the top. Either someone had a serious chip on their shoulder, or a complex of some sort... His obligation was obvious, as people as overgrown as he were few and far between (and although notoriously lazy, there wasn’t a truly mean bone in his body), but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun with her first, for his trouble.