[There's no response - after all, he's on his way, what else is there to be said?
As it's a public shop, and the sign on the door declares it Open in big bright letters, knocking might well be extraneous. There's no harm in politeness though, and the clerk behind one of the counters immediately beckons with one hand. By her register sits a large jar labeled DONATIONS. She looks perfectly ordinary, but also not like she's set up to do any sort of delicate work on a communication device.
The shop itself has row upon row of other watches, varying in design mostly in the case's material, color and ornamentation, each neatly displayed inside glass cases for easy viewing but not so much easy stealing. The lights are warm and generally comfortable to those with ordinary vision, the general atmosphere fairly comfortable instead of sterile. Little photos and paintings dot the walls, some obviously by childrens' hands, some very much not.
By the large front windows, stained glass all and etched with the shop's name, is presumably the man doing the work, a towering figure who might well be over eight foot tall if he were standing - but he isn't, seated instead at a longish table with a neat white tablecloth, on it an array of instruments, delicate tools, velvet boxes, and contrasting cloths of varying colors. It's here several lights have been moved to, to provide ample lighting to precise and tiny work. It's pretty clear the craftsman in question is a dragon even with no obvious wings, for no other species has what looks awfully like reptilian claws, branching curved horns and a long, thick reptilian tail - but all of it, from head to toe, including that long tail is shrouded in black. Wrapped, in the case of hands, toes and tail, hooded robes otherwise, a pair of goggles festooned with moveable lenses fixed over his eyes - all it leaves bare to be seen are the talons, and his chin.
There is a lone chair in front of the table, comfortable enough without being luxurious. For a long moment the shrouded dragon studies Jiang Cheng silently, weighing what alterations a merrow might require. It is at least obvious what he's dealing with - a relief compared to guessing at the proclivities of witches. He gestures with one black-wrapped hand towards the chair.]
Pray sit. Do you take your device into the water with you? If so, do you frequent salt or fresh?
no subject
As it's a public shop, and the sign on the door declares it Open in big bright letters, knocking might well be extraneous. There's no harm in politeness though, and the clerk behind one of the counters immediately beckons with one hand. By her register sits a large jar labeled DONATIONS. She looks perfectly ordinary, but also not like she's set up to do any sort of delicate work on a communication device.
The shop itself has row upon row of other watches, varying in design mostly in the case's material, color and ornamentation, each neatly displayed inside glass cases for easy viewing but not so much easy stealing. The lights are warm and generally comfortable to those with ordinary vision, the general atmosphere fairly comfortable instead of sterile. Little photos and paintings dot the walls, some obviously by childrens' hands, some very much not.
By the large front windows, stained glass all and etched with the shop's name, is presumably the man doing the work, a towering figure who might well be over eight foot tall if he were standing - but he isn't, seated instead at a longish table with a neat white tablecloth, on it an array of instruments, delicate tools, velvet boxes, and contrasting cloths of varying colors. It's here several lights have been moved to, to provide ample lighting to precise and tiny work. It's pretty clear the craftsman in question is a dragon even with no obvious wings, for no other species has what looks awfully like reptilian claws, branching curved horns and a long, thick reptilian tail - but all of it, from head to toe, including that long tail is shrouded in black. Wrapped, in the case of hands, toes and tail, hooded robes otherwise, a pair of goggles festooned with moveable lenses fixed over his eyes - all it leaves bare to be seen are the talons, and his chin.
There is a lone chair in front of the table, comfortable enough without being luxurious. For a long moment the shrouded dragon studies Jiang Cheng silently, weighing what alterations a merrow might require. It is at least obvious what he's dealing with - a relief compared to guessing at the proclivities of witches. He gestures with one black-wrapped hand towards the chair.]
Pray sit. Do you take your device into the water with you? If so, do you frequent salt or fresh?