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The wheel spun softly in a mesmerizing spiral. As it slowed, Amarissa reached over for the stick and sent it on its way once more until it was back up to speed. Setting aside the stick once more, her hands moved back to the clay taking shape before her. Humming softly to herself, her hands moved with care and precision as the clay gave way and bent to her touch.
Amarissa had always enjoyed the quiet solitude of pottery and her parents had indulged her interests by having her pottery wheel made when she was a girl. The flat space in the middle held her current project and a large off-balance ring encircled it. With her stick she could get it spinning and then the ring would continue as the momentum was only marginally impacted by her wetted hands on the clay in the center. When it had slowed completely, the process would continue again until her project was ready to be removed and fired.
Mazel was out in front of the small shop, selling pieces that had been completed in weeks previous. Having practiced since she was a young girl, Amarissa's pottery had become rather well known in Ammun. While she certainly didn't need the money from the sales of her pieces, the income certainly didn't hurt and helped Amarissa enjoy some of the more special things in life.
Mazel smiled and laughed with the normal banter common to bartering. A few customers asked how the family was doing and Mazel always answered with the polite assurances of a servant. The family was well. Business was good. Yahweh's protection was a thing to be ever thankful for.
Amarissa was so used to the ebb and flow of the overheard conversations and the soft hum of her wheel that she easily lost track of time.
She looked up slightly startled when Mazel poked her head around the curtain dividing the back workroom from the front marketplace. "M'lady" she noted politely, indicating this was not a casual inquiry and instead someone important was out front. "M'lord wished to speak with the artist directly" she said softly but with a small smile.
"Oh" Amarissa said quietly and then looked down at herself. She was wearing a rather plain beige dress, a work dress really with splotches of clay and paint on it from projects past. There was bits of clay on her face as well and of course her hands were covered in it. Her headscarf had been set aside while she worked.
"Right, of course, tell him one moment please" Amarissa smiled and quickly grabbed a spare cloth to attempt and wipe of her hands. Snatching her mitzpath from it's place, she hurriedly wrapped it and emerged from behind the curtain some mixture of composed and utterly disheveled. Her mind spinning with how might wish to speak with her directly instead of placing an order with Mazel as most were perfectly comfortable doing.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The wheel spun softly in a mesmerizing spiral. As it slowed, Amarissa reached over for the stick and sent it on its way once more until it was back up to speed. Setting aside the stick once more, her hands moved back to the clay taking shape before her. Humming softly to herself, her hands moved with care and precision as the clay gave way and bent to her touch.
Amarissa had always enjoyed the quiet solitude of pottery and her parents had indulged her interests by having her pottery wheel made when she was a girl. The flat space in the middle held her current project and a large off-balance ring encircled it. With her stick she could get it spinning and then the ring would continue as the momentum was only marginally impacted by her wetted hands on the clay in the center. When it had slowed completely, the process would continue again until her project was ready to be removed and fired.
Mazel was out in front of the small shop, selling pieces that had been completed in weeks previous. Having practiced since she was a young girl, Amarissa's pottery had become rather well known in Ammun. While she certainly didn't need the money from the sales of her pieces, the income certainly didn't hurt and helped Amarissa enjoy some of the more special things in life.
Mazel smiled and laughed with the normal banter common to bartering. A few customers asked how the family was doing and Mazel always answered with the polite assurances of a servant. The family was well. Business was good. Yahweh's protection was a thing to be ever thankful for.
Amarissa was so used to the ebb and flow of the overheard conversations and the soft hum of her wheel that she easily lost track of time.
She looked up slightly startled when Mazel poked her head around the curtain dividing the back workroom from the front marketplace. "M'lady" she noted politely, indicating this was not a casual inquiry and instead someone important was out front. "M'lord wished to speak with the artist directly" she said softly but with a small smile.
"Oh" Amarissa said quietly and then looked down at herself. She was wearing a rather plain beige dress, a work dress really with splotches of clay and paint on it from projects past. There was bits of clay on her face as well and of course her hands were covered in it. Her headscarf had been set aside while she worked.
"Right, of course, tell him one moment please" Amarissa smiled and quickly grabbed a spare cloth to attempt and wipe of her hands. Snatching her mitzpath from it's place, she hurriedly wrapped it and emerged from behind the curtain some mixture of composed and utterly disheveled. Her mind spinning with how might wish to speak with her directly instead of placing an order with Mazel as most were perfectly comfortable doing.
The wheel spun softly in a mesmerizing spiral. As it slowed, Amarissa reached over for the stick and sent it on its way once more until it was back up to speed. Setting aside the stick once more, her hands moved back to the clay taking shape before her. Humming softly to herself, her hands moved with care and precision as the clay gave way and bent to her touch.
Amarissa had always enjoyed the quiet solitude of pottery and her parents had indulged her interests by having her pottery wheel made when she was a girl. The flat space in the middle held her current project and a large off-balance ring encircled it. With her stick she could get it spinning and then the ring would continue as the momentum was only marginally impacted by her wetted hands on the clay in the center. When it had slowed completely, the process would continue again until her project was ready to be removed and fired.
Mazel was out in front of the small shop, selling pieces that had been completed in weeks previous. Having practiced since she was a young girl, Amarissa's pottery had become rather well known in Ammun. While she certainly didn't need the money from the sales of her pieces, the income certainly didn't hurt and helped Amarissa enjoy some of the more special things in life.
Mazel smiled and laughed with the normal banter common to bartering. A few customers asked how the family was doing and Mazel always answered with the polite assurances of a servant. The family was well. Business was good. Yahweh's protection was a thing to be ever thankful for.
Amarissa was so used to the ebb and flow of the overheard conversations and the soft hum of her wheel that she easily lost track of time.
She looked up slightly startled when Mazel poked her head around the curtain dividing the back workroom from the front marketplace. "M'lady" she noted politely, indicating this was not a casual inquiry and instead someone important was out front. "M'lord wished to speak with the artist directly" she said softly but with a small smile.
"Oh" Amarissa said quietly and then looked down at herself. She was wearing a rather plain beige dress, a work dress really with splotches of clay and paint on it from projects past. There was bits of clay on her face as well and of course her hands were covered in it. Her headscarf had been set aside while she worked.
"Right, of course, tell him one moment please" Amarissa smiled and quickly grabbed a spare cloth to attempt and wipe of her hands. Snatching her mitzpath from it's place, she hurriedly wrapped it and emerged from behind the curtain some mixture of composed and utterly disheveled. Her mind spinning with how might wish to speak with her directly instead of placing an order with Mazel as most were perfectly comfortable doing.
Abir liked to go to the market whenever he went to a different city. At the market was where he felt like he could truly capture a slice of life of those who lived there. The goods that were being sold, the performances held, those were all a part of a greater story of their society. Abir liked to witness it all. It made him feel more connected to his people in a time of his life where he was starting to question everything. It had started with his marriage, but bloomed into a greater question about their society. Who were Judeans to proclaim their worthiness over others? Who were they to think that they were better? How could they be the most righteous and just society when there were so many wrongs that couldn’t be fixed? Or that the very council he sat on wasn’t willing to fix?
These questions had been swirling about in his mind for some time now, which was both fortunate and unfortunate. For the most part, he had told no one. Not even his wife. Especially not his wife. However, he had told one friend and sometimes that was what they enjoyed discussing the most. It was a relief to know that there was someone else out there who didn’t find his ideas crazy. Even more than that—he could talk to her honestly.
Though of course, he was already married, so it wasn’t seemly to be seen talking with her, but that just proved Abir’s point about their society. But he wasn’t here to think about such things today. No, he was here to admire and probably shop. Abir had a terrible habit of buying gifts for his family every time he went on a trip. There were worse vices, he supposed. He simply liked to show his family that he was thinking of them and that he loved them. Especially when his work took him away from their home so often. Mostly, he felt for his daughter, who loved it more than anything when he was home. But he still bought things for his wife, mother, and sister as well.
The man was wandering through the stalls when one filled with pottery pieces caught his eye. Oh, his mother would love these! He would get something for his wife too, but his mother would love a special piece, he was certain. Abir browsed the wares for a few minutes, wondering what exactly he wanted to get for his mother. What would she love? His instincts didn’t shout out at any of these pieces, but he wondered if the artist might be willing to make something commissioned. He knew he could not just pass this by.
Abir asked the girl manning the shop if she was the artist and after a few minutes of conversation, the servant went to go back and bring the artist to him. He hoped that she could help him decide exactly what kind of piece to ask for. Only as the artist appeared was Abir reminded of something he had been told a few months ago in passing—gossip floating between the prominent families of Judea. And just then, Abir was more than pleased that he had made this stop today.
He felt himself grinning at the sight of an old friend he had not seen in some time. In fact, he probably hadn’t truly had a conversation with her since they were both caught in an unfortunate situation as young teenagers. Breaking an ankle and being carried by two girls had been embarrassing for young Abir, but now he could look back upon it and chuckle.
“I had heard a rumor that you were selling pottery,” Abir said grinning, “But I had not thought I might run across you today. What a lovely surprise, Amarissa. It is good to see you again.”
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Abir liked to go to the market whenever he went to a different city. At the market was where he felt like he could truly capture a slice of life of those who lived there. The goods that were being sold, the performances held, those were all a part of a greater story of their society. Abir liked to witness it all. It made him feel more connected to his people in a time of his life where he was starting to question everything. It had started with his marriage, but bloomed into a greater question about their society. Who were Judeans to proclaim their worthiness over others? Who were they to think that they were better? How could they be the most righteous and just society when there were so many wrongs that couldn’t be fixed? Or that the very council he sat on wasn’t willing to fix?
These questions had been swirling about in his mind for some time now, which was both fortunate and unfortunate. For the most part, he had told no one. Not even his wife. Especially not his wife. However, he had told one friend and sometimes that was what they enjoyed discussing the most. It was a relief to know that there was someone else out there who didn’t find his ideas crazy. Even more than that—he could talk to her honestly.
Though of course, he was already married, so it wasn’t seemly to be seen talking with her, but that just proved Abir’s point about their society. But he wasn’t here to think about such things today. No, he was here to admire and probably shop. Abir had a terrible habit of buying gifts for his family every time he went on a trip. There were worse vices, he supposed. He simply liked to show his family that he was thinking of them and that he loved them. Especially when his work took him away from their home so often. Mostly, he felt for his daughter, who loved it more than anything when he was home. But he still bought things for his wife, mother, and sister as well.
The man was wandering through the stalls when one filled with pottery pieces caught his eye. Oh, his mother would love these! He would get something for his wife too, but his mother would love a special piece, he was certain. Abir browsed the wares for a few minutes, wondering what exactly he wanted to get for his mother. What would she love? His instincts didn’t shout out at any of these pieces, but he wondered if the artist might be willing to make something commissioned. He knew he could not just pass this by.
Abir asked the girl manning the shop if she was the artist and after a few minutes of conversation, the servant went to go back and bring the artist to him. He hoped that she could help him decide exactly what kind of piece to ask for. Only as the artist appeared was Abir reminded of something he had been told a few months ago in passing—gossip floating between the prominent families of Judea. And just then, Abir was more than pleased that he had made this stop today.
He felt himself grinning at the sight of an old friend he had not seen in some time. In fact, he probably hadn’t truly had a conversation with her since they were both caught in an unfortunate situation as young teenagers. Breaking an ankle and being carried by two girls had been embarrassing for young Abir, but now he could look back upon it and chuckle.
“I had heard a rumor that you were selling pottery,” Abir said grinning, “But I had not thought I might run across you today. What a lovely surprise, Amarissa. It is good to see you again.”
Abir liked to go to the market whenever he went to a different city. At the market was where he felt like he could truly capture a slice of life of those who lived there. The goods that were being sold, the performances held, those were all a part of a greater story of their society. Abir liked to witness it all. It made him feel more connected to his people in a time of his life where he was starting to question everything. It had started with his marriage, but bloomed into a greater question about their society. Who were Judeans to proclaim their worthiness over others? Who were they to think that they were better? How could they be the most righteous and just society when there were so many wrongs that couldn’t be fixed? Or that the very council he sat on wasn’t willing to fix?
These questions had been swirling about in his mind for some time now, which was both fortunate and unfortunate. For the most part, he had told no one. Not even his wife. Especially not his wife. However, he had told one friend and sometimes that was what they enjoyed discussing the most. It was a relief to know that there was someone else out there who didn’t find his ideas crazy. Even more than that—he could talk to her honestly.
Though of course, he was already married, so it wasn’t seemly to be seen talking with her, but that just proved Abir’s point about their society. But he wasn’t here to think about such things today. No, he was here to admire and probably shop. Abir had a terrible habit of buying gifts for his family every time he went on a trip. There were worse vices, he supposed. He simply liked to show his family that he was thinking of them and that he loved them. Especially when his work took him away from their home so often. Mostly, he felt for his daughter, who loved it more than anything when he was home. But he still bought things for his wife, mother, and sister as well.
The man was wandering through the stalls when one filled with pottery pieces caught his eye. Oh, his mother would love these! He would get something for his wife too, but his mother would love a special piece, he was certain. Abir browsed the wares for a few minutes, wondering what exactly he wanted to get for his mother. What would she love? His instincts didn’t shout out at any of these pieces, but he wondered if the artist might be willing to make something commissioned. He knew he could not just pass this by.
Abir asked the girl manning the shop if she was the artist and after a few minutes of conversation, the servant went to go back and bring the artist to him. He hoped that she could help him decide exactly what kind of piece to ask for. Only as the artist appeared was Abir reminded of something he had been told a few months ago in passing—gossip floating between the prominent families of Judea. And just then, Abir was more than pleased that he had made this stop today.
He felt himself grinning at the sight of an old friend he had not seen in some time. In fact, he probably hadn’t truly had a conversation with her since they were both caught in an unfortunate situation as young teenagers. Breaking an ankle and being carried by two girls had been embarrassing for young Abir, but now he could look back upon it and chuckle.
“I had heard a rumor that you were selling pottery,” Abir said grinning, “But I had not thought I might run across you today. What a lovely surprise, Amarissa. It is good to see you again.”
Amarissa stopped suddenly as she spotted Abir standing before her. "Oh, it has been too long" she said with a relieved smile. She'd worried that it would be some stuck up traveling politician. Or perhaps even some traveling greek or egyptian in want of a special trinket. But Abir. Well like Amiti, when you're stuck in a potentially life and death situation, certain boundaries got a bit blurred. They'd never spoken of it of course. Both for the girls' reputations and his own. Not that anything happened, they were children. Still, no man wants to admit being carried home by two girls.
"What brings you to Ammun? Oh you must come for dinner, Father will be so happy to see you" Amarissa babbled on happily. "Do you have somewhere good to stay? Surely you're not staying at the inn out by Ben David's. Did Katriel and Livana come with? How old is she now? She must be growing like a wheat sprout" Amarissa noted as she wiped her hands further of the clay substance coating them.
"I'm sorry" she said quickly as she realized he'd wanted to speak with her about a commission "was there something in particular you were wanting made?" she asked with an eager smile. She loved talking pottery. It was a humble and normally a bit lonely art, but one that she throughly enjoyed.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
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Amarissa stopped suddenly as she spotted Abir standing before her. "Oh, it has been too long" she said with a relieved smile. She'd worried that it would be some stuck up traveling politician. Or perhaps even some traveling greek or egyptian in want of a special trinket. But Abir. Well like Amiti, when you're stuck in a potentially life and death situation, certain boundaries got a bit blurred. They'd never spoken of it of course. Both for the girls' reputations and his own. Not that anything happened, they were children. Still, no man wants to admit being carried home by two girls.
"What brings you to Ammun? Oh you must come for dinner, Father will be so happy to see you" Amarissa babbled on happily. "Do you have somewhere good to stay? Surely you're not staying at the inn out by Ben David's. Did Katriel and Livana come with? How old is she now? She must be growing like a wheat sprout" Amarissa noted as she wiped her hands further of the clay substance coating them.
"I'm sorry" she said quickly as she realized he'd wanted to speak with her about a commission "was there something in particular you were wanting made?" she asked with an eager smile. She loved talking pottery. It was a humble and normally a bit lonely art, but one that she throughly enjoyed.
Amarissa stopped suddenly as she spotted Abir standing before her. "Oh, it has been too long" she said with a relieved smile. She'd worried that it would be some stuck up traveling politician. Or perhaps even some traveling greek or egyptian in want of a special trinket. But Abir. Well like Amiti, when you're stuck in a potentially life and death situation, certain boundaries got a bit blurred. They'd never spoken of it of course. Both for the girls' reputations and his own. Not that anything happened, they were children. Still, no man wants to admit being carried home by two girls.
"What brings you to Ammun? Oh you must come for dinner, Father will be so happy to see you" Amarissa babbled on happily. "Do you have somewhere good to stay? Surely you're not staying at the inn out by Ben David's. Did Katriel and Livana come with? How old is she now? She must be growing like a wheat sprout" Amarissa noted as she wiped her hands further of the clay substance coating them.
"I'm sorry" she said quickly as she realized he'd wanted to speak with her about a commission "was there something in particular you were wanting made?" she asked with an eager smile. She loved talking pottery. It was a humble and normally a bit lonely art, but one that she throughly enjoyed.
