Fetter strong madness with a silken thread.
Social Rank: 8
Concept: Crackers Clothier
Religion: Pantheon (Jayus)
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Hazel; brown-green
Skintone: Pale peach
Description: Tall and willowy she stands at around 5'7", with incredibly pale peach toned skin. A tumble of black hair falls around an angular face that is home to sharp cheekbones. Her eyes are big and around, brown flecked with amber and green. Her mouth is lush and bow shaped, and would be pleasant if it didn't pair with those eyes that always look just a little bit off. As if she were surrounded by an aura of melancholy. She's long limbed and delicate. Pretty but in a peculiar way.
Personality: Peculiar. There are other words for Saya but they're not very polite. She's usually half present within any given situation, any given moment. She's forgetful and has an aura of far-away melancholy. Laconic and more than a little bit lazy until she gets a flash of inspiration and then she is a fury of movement and production. She's as likely to suddenly start sketching a new project as she is to walk off mid-sentence.
Background: Saya Dalin and her husband Ballard were refugees fleeing the Silent Army from what is very likely a now extinct Shav tribe. Ballard, being the brave man that he was, immediately decided to join the Iron Guard and was killed during the Siege. Saya's still a little bit angry with him, judging by who she mutters angrily when he comes up. She refuses to speak too much about her tribe. But they appear to have been forest dwellers. Somewhere near the Gray River.
Her time, since coming to Arx and after the siege, has been spent learning a trade skill that can help her survive within the city-- after all the Lowers are not always a forgiving place. And she has her daughter-- Yasha --to look after. She apprenticed to an old tailor who took pity on her, and even helped teach her Arvani (Ballard, the fool, died before he could help her become fluent). Time not spent with her mentor was spent at the Shrine of Jayus, learning about the god of inspiration.
Her mentor recently passed away and Saya and her daughter have been put out on her own once more.
|Apollis||Mysterious stranger has a word for me if I complete a task. Sounds exciting to me.|
|Catalana||Strange woman....infatuated with my necklace. She's curt but....oh well.|
|Dante||Saya is... too unique to know want to know more. I've only ever been, at best, a smith of words but she can clearly clad a figure in the finest garments, so they say. And so I trust them. That being pointed out, there's a sense of glazed rebellion I'm drawn to abide beside.|
|Delilah||I have no idea who she is, what she's truly looking for outside a pair of scissors, and why she doesn't want fruit. She's a strange one, for sure.|
|Gareth||We really ought to review our laws on public decency.|
|Kenna||I was busy catching a fish, but what I caught of her it seems she is VERY quick witted. I want to speak with her more!|
|Lark||Talented, but she is certainly an artist that does not think in terms that are familiar.|
|Magpie||She threw money at Magpie. Literally. While shrieking. It was strange, but after she calmed down things smoothed over. He wants to help her get established in the Lowers and really, there are worse things to have thrown at a person than money!|
|Monique||TEA FOR DRESS! I'll always remember that. Through the throbbing headache, I'll remember the second chance.|
|Orazio||Possibly a gifted crafter, but certainly...vulnerable and a bit touched in the head. Seems harmless enough, however.|
|Petal||I can relate to her not wanting to make matching slippers for everyone. I don't know what to make her of her reaction to Magpie.|
|Reese||I have no idea what to make of her and I like to make slow judgements rather than fast ones. Her work is lovely. She was bothered by presence at first and so I will do my best to give her no reason to fear me.|
|Rinel||Why is she yelling about scissors?!|
|Rue||Another seamstress. Her eye for color put mine to shame. Even if her patron scares me a tad.|
|Saedrus||Dear Mistress Saya, she is a panicky young woman and so quick between emotions. Her moods, I think, are as wild and oft unpredictable as the weather itself. There must be a great mind beneath all that unbrushed hair though-- and through all the mad little utterings.|
|Skye||She does beautiful work, but seems a little tired. She works too hard. I hope my patronage helps since she has a daughter.|
|Thesarin||A sister from the river-lands. Poor broken thing.|