Log Intro:

Discovering that his young friend Kevlan Sharr is about to be sent off-planet
on Guild business - _what_ Guild business, Kevlan doesn't say, shyly admitting
that Guildmaster Maxwell had instructed him to avoid doing so - Tamber
al-Acorrin bustles up to Shankill Station, finds Kevlan, and hauls him straight
back to the planet's surface... insisting that _any_ black Crystal Singer
on Guild business must look the part. And by all the gods, Tamber al-Acorrin
will make sure Kevlan Sharr is clad for his rank, or know the reason why....!

Kevlan is therefore dragged under duress down to level four in the Guildhall....

----------
A soft chime sounds and a computer-generated voice announces:
"Fourth Level (Technicians Farmers Suppliers)."
The doors *whoosh* open.
At your destination, you step off the quiet lift.
Lift Area - 4
One of the many accommodation levels in the JPF, this level houses the
  support technicians. It could well be said that the guild would not function
  without these specialized workers. Sparkling strips of brown, red, and other
  colors radiate outward.
This well carpeted area circumscribes a circle with the center being filled
  by a shiny lift tube. On the doors to the tube is the number 4. There is a
  button set into the wall, you may summon a 'lift.'
Contents:
Lift 1
Obvious exits:
Administration Personnel  Technicians  Agricultural Personnel  Caterers
  Suppliers

Tamber emerges from the efficient lift.
Tamber has arrived.

You turn to go into the lounge area for suppliers.
Supplier's Lounge
This softly carpeted hall has doors and passages leading off to the rooms of
  the Supply staff's apartments. Fine tracings of dark ocher and pine wind
  through the carpet's pattern giving the same sense of depth to the eyes as
  the thick pile does for the feet.
Obvious exits:
Tailor  Lift

Tamber emerges from the quiet of the lift area.
Tamber has arrived.
Outside Tailor, Tamber calls out cheerfully and briskly, "Hello in there! Is
  anyone at home?".

>From Tailor Shop, Joran calls out "Do come in.".

Tamber steps into the tailor shop.
Tamber has left.

You enter the tailor shop.
Tailor Shop
This is a largish room, but it is so cluttered and filled that it feels
  rather small. The room is painted white in the places you can see the walls.
  However, most of the wall space is taken by shelving and cubicles containing
  thread, needles, scissors, bolts of cloth, and other odds and ends.  
The back
  wall has several racks with completed outfits, either ready to be delivered
  or picked out and bought. In the middle of this wall is a small door. In the
  middle of the room is a big table, its top covered by a grid, where there is
  sure to be some sort of clothing being worked upon at any time. The right
  wall has several machines against it. One is a glorified sewing machine,
  capable of being either manually or computer operated. Another machine is a
  computer controlled laser pattern cutter to cut out perfect patterns of
  fabric entered into the computer. On the left wall is a privacy partition to
  change behind and a large mirror. In the nearer corner on that side is a
  small table with a data unit where orders may be entered.
Contents:
Tamber(#1213Pep)
Joran
Sign
Data Screen
Obvious exits:
Out  Small Door

Tamber cheerfully strides in, nudging a balking Kevlan along with him.

Joran is busy at the table, working on something. He doesn't appear to notice
  you.

Kevlan stammers embarrassedly, "Ah-Ah-Ah keep tellin' you, Tam, Ah doan' need
  no -"

Tamber tuts briskly, "Nonsense, Galahad, of course you do. If you are going
  to install crystal off-planet, then by all means you must dress to convey
  your rank!"

Joran
His hair is tied back in a pony tail. He is wearing a simple jumpsuit, dark
  gray in color, with patches of bright colors in odd designs...  mostly
  purples and greens. Off white shoes adorn his feet. They look rather 
soft and
  pliable, perfect for indoors. He wears a few thin, silver bracelets on his
  left wrist, which jingle slightly together as he moves.

Tamber has a firm clasp on his young companion's arm, as he guides him over
  to the tailor's table. Tamber smiles benignly to the man, and gestures into
  his field of vision to see if that catches his attention.

Kevlan turns a mild shade of pink, and mutters, "Cain't see why Ah cain't
  wear mah reg'lar clothes... "

Joran blinks, then looks up, smiling. He rises, facing you, "Ahh, gentlemen,
  what may I do for you?"

Tamber smiles serenely to the tailor, and gestures with his free hand at the
  tall blond young man he has hauled in here with him. "It is, good sir, a
  question of what you can do for my young friend here. He is about to 
endeavor
  on Guild business, and naturally, he must be appropriately attired."

Kevlan looks sheepishly down at his jacket and worksuit, and blushes. His
  clothes work for HIM.

Tamber pats Kevlan's shoulder, and adds wisely to Joran, "A Singer of the
  black crystal must needs look the part, do you not agree?"

Joran nods, "Definitely." He looks over at Kevlan, speculatively. "And what
  type of Guild business would this be?"
Joran looks at you for a moment.

Kevlan blinkblinks, and mutters sheepishly, "Ah-Ah-Ah cain't say much but
  Ah'm s'posed t' go set up some crystal f'r folks... "

Tamber puts in, "And lest he go looking like a ragamuffin farmboy, I do hope
  we can rely upon you for appropriate garb, good tailor?" He winks. 
"Something
  to flatter Galahad's divine shoulders."

Kevlan turns scarlet. "Aww, Tam, Ah doan' need nothin' all that fancy...!"

Joran nods, "Off planet, I take it." His eyes sort of switch color real quick
  as he looks Kevlan over. He looks a bit pensive for a moment, "Yes, 
we can do
  something with him. Though his posture could improve a little."

Kevlan blinks, taken aback. "Wha?"

Tamber steps back, looking Kevlan up and down with a shrewd and speculative
  gaze. "You ARE right, he could add a good three centimeters to his height."

Joran chuckles, his eyes switching back to normal as he looks straight at
  Kevlan, "You're acting a bit sheepish and timid, and it is showing in your
  posture as we speak. Stand up straight and show the galaxy that you're a
  strong man!"

Tamber gestures imperatively at the young Singer. "Stand up straight, dear
  boy, and let the man have a look at you."
Tamber adds laughingly to Joran, "This is usual Galahad behavior, my dear
  man. The boy has absolutely no self-confidence."

Kevlan fixes Tamber with a mortified gaze, but tries to improve his stance.

Joran shakes his head, snorting softly as he mutters softly. "...most
  powerful guild... have this to show..." *harumph!*
Joran nods, "That's better. Do step over to that circle on the floor." And
  now that he mentions it and points it out, you do see a circle about a meter
  in diameter inscribed in the floor."

Kevlan steps over where instructed, and although he has shifted into a
  posture rather reminsicent of 'small boy called up to the front of the class
  by his instructor', he is nevertheless no longer slouched.

Tamber crosses his arms, and looks very pleased with himself. Yes, he thinks,
  he'll make a fine figure of his young friend, at that.

Joran slips across to the data screen and flips through a few menus. His back
  is turned to you, but he looks over his shoulder to make sure of something
  before he presses a button. A violet light washes down over Kevlan for an
  instant, then is gone.

Kevlan ventures embarrassedly, "Ah-Ah-Ah ain't nevah had no fancy clothes - "
  He blinks as the air around him turns purple for an instant, and 
blinks again
  as the light returns to normal.

Joran smiles, "There, all done. Now you can slouch if you have a mind to it.
  Though it's a shame. I'm sure the women folk would flock to him even more if
  he stood up straight."
Joran taps out a few more instructions on the data screen and a maniken like
  shape shows up, spinning slowly. "THere, I've got his measurements to the
  last micron. Good." He shuts off the screen, returning it to the menu for
  patrons to view.

Tamber tells Kevlan smoothly, "Then it is high time you spent some of those
  credits you've been bringing in with your cuts, my friend." As Kevlan 
blushes
  again, and suddenly looks horrified, the Sorter continues 
diplomatically, "We
  will attend to that matter at another time."

Joran stands and faces the two of you again. "Now, let's see, what can we do
  with you..."

Tamber smiles in a briefly serious and comforting manner to Kevlan, and
  encourages him, "Come now, he will not bite."

Kevlan smiles a little, wanly, and regards Joran with his guileless blue gaze.

Joran chuckles, "Yes, that would be rather bad for business."
Joran looks at you for a moment.
Joran smiles, "Will you be expected to attend any formal gatherings, singer?"

Tamber briefly eyes the terminal where Kevlan's measurements have been
  recorded, even more briefly gets a mischievous glint in his green 
eyes... but
  mercifully, doesn't voice whatever thought crosses his mind.

Kevlan in the meantime shuffles uncomfortably, and admits, as if the idea was
  akin to stepping in front of an out-of-control sled, "They, uh, th-they said
  they was gonna git all ready f'r me comin', on account of Ah sing black,
  see... "

Tamber translates blandly, "I believe this means he shall."
Tamber helpfully adds, "It is my thought that darker, richer colors suit him
  best; your thoughts, good tailor?"

Joran chuckles, almost nastily, "And I am glad I won't be in your shoes, just
  making them." He smiles, "Alright, something formal... representing the
  Guild, and fitting this outline of a man." He eyes Tamber as he starts
  speaking and nods. "Yes, and with the riot of colors out there, it 
will bring
  relief to his weary eyes when he looks at himself. Darker colors are easier
  to deal with in any case. Can make them look similar enough in both
  spectrums."

Kevlan seems to relax, just a little. He ventures, "Ah-Ah been offplanet,
  befoah... did make mah eyes smart somethin' fierce."

Tamber smiles indulgently at his companion, and considers his own thoughts on
  appropriate attire while the tailor goes about his work.

Joran smiles, "We can also work with the mystique built up on Singers. Nearly
  pure, matte black would do this. But we can surely do more that that. I can
  make something that appears matte black to the norms, but made of dark and
  rich purples, blues, and blacks of course, to most Ballybran personnel. How
  does that sound?"
Joran chuckles, "SHould have worn your light filtering lenses, singer. Though
  even they can't cut out everything to your eyes."

Kevlan's blue eyes widen - clearly, despite his being a Singer, the notion of
  clothing that looks so dramatically different to adapted and unadapted eyes
  hasn't ever occurred to him.

Tamber's elegant eyebrows rise. "Blues, purples, and blacks," he murmurs,
  sweeping his gaze over his companion's frame, mentally dabbing in swaths of
  colors here and there. "Good tailor, I think you might have something there."

Joran raises an eyebrow, misinterpreting the look. "No? Well, I guess that
  clothes that change color due to heat, and other stimulus is out."

Kevlan asks blankly, "Clothes c'n' do that?"

Tamber gives a wry grin, remarking dryly, "I fear that to date, despite my
  best efforts, Galahad has a remarkably plebian wardrobe."

Joran laughs softly, "Should see some of the swimsuits I've been asked to
  create... Opaque when dry and completely transparent when wet. Yes, with
  nanites helping you create clothes, almost anything is possible."
Joran smiles, "Though I just order premade fabrics here, myself. I would love
  a nanite fabric mill, but the Guild considers that a bit unnecessary and
  expensive."

Kevlan ohs, rather looking like the tailor had expounded on the intricacies
  of astrophysics rather than clothing, but he smiles a little, shyly. "Um...
  Ah-Ah do like black, sir... an' blue... "

Joran grins, "Very good. Now, this blue and black. What can we do with
  them... We could give you a rich, blue shirt... a little frilly 
perhaps.. and
  a black jacket to go over it. Along with some nice, if comfortable slacks...
  black. With touches of a darker, almost black, blue patterned into the
  slacks... which would be pulled out by the blue shirt... Hmmm...  would make
  a rather dashing figure, I think. And it would look pure black to 
normals. Of
  course I could make it look almost the same to normals, too, if that's your
  desire."
Joran hmmms, nibbling on his lower lip a bit. "I could draw up a few sketches
  of things for you to look over tomorrow to get a better feel of what I'm
  thinking about, if you'd like, singer."

Tamber, as Joran describes the outfit, looks over Kevlan and is almost
  audibly purring. Kevlan, in the meantime, asks hesitantly, "It-it wouldn't
  make me itch 'r' nothin', would it, sir? Ah-Ah mean... my holiday clothes
  itched somethin' fierce when Ah was a kid... "

Joran smiles, "New clothes almost always need to be broken in some... but I
  would bet a thousand credits that none of those holiday clothes were 
tailored
  to exactly fit your frame. And when you are a kid, you are growing too fast
  anyways, nothing ever fits you good for long.

Kevlan nods earnestly, though he looks quite blank about whether his clothes
  should differ in appearance to adapted and non-adapted sight, and he glances
  helplessly at Tamber. The Sorter suggests encouragingly, "This is for _you_,
  dear boy, though my own aesthetic appreciation shall certainly not suffer.
  Buy what you think looks good. Gods know you surely have the credits."
Kevlan considers very solemnly, before asking Joran, "What'd you do iffin you
  was gonna wear this, sir?"

Joran blinks, then grins, "If I was to wear it.. hmmm, I would want to make a
  splash. I would have it done so that it wasn't quite matte black to normals.
  Pure black is easy and cheap. However, we can make it seen like it's almost
  alive... a sort of metalic look to it that would appear to flow over you and
  flex. You would see some rich, nicely tailored clothes of black and 
blue. But
  they would see something quite... fantastic... not of this world."
Joran nods.. "Yes, that is what I would do. Black... but with a quality and
  texture to it that brings it alive."
Joran smiles, "Such fabric will cost plenty, but if your friend here is
  correct about your finances, my dear singer, then you could afford the cost
  of something like that rather handedly."

Kevlan seems rather awed at the idea of himself wearing something that sounds
  so unusual, but slowly, he gives another shy lopsided grin.

Tamber chuckles softly. "Galahad can afford it, I assure you, good sir."

Joran looks at you for a moment.
Joran grins, "I take it you like it... Galahad I think he called you?"

Kevlan's blush deepens, though he is still sheepishly grinning, a little, as
  he mumbles, "Th-th-that's jes' kinda mah nickname, sir... "

Tamber says wisely, "Though I do believe CS Kevlan Sharr has an imposing ring
  to it." His green eyes twinkle. "And we shall have you clad to match, 
my boy."

Joran smiles and nods. "ALright then, I'll draw up some ideas for styles and
  work out a few ideas on the computer. You can have a final look over the
  styles before I actually start putting together the outfit, tomorrow, if
  that's fine with you."

You say "Ah-Ah-Ah gotta leave real soon, is that okay?"

Tamber adds, "Kevlan has less than a galactic week before he is to depart."

Joran nods, "If you need something quickly, you can leave it up to me. But
  the soonest I can get it made would be tomorrow evening (RL)."

Tamber smiles serenely to the tailor. "That should be more than adequate."

Kevlan hastily nods his agreement, as his Sorter friend archly glances down
  at the Singer's workboots and adds to Joran, "Now, of shoes..."

Joran smiles and nods. "Alright then." He scribbles a few notes down on a pad
  on the table, then looks up. Looking a little confused until you repeat the
  bit about shoes.

Tamber flashes an engaging grin, and adds patiently, "He certainly cannot go
  clomping about in footwear he wears to the Ranges, would you not say?"

Kevlan ohs, eyeing his feet. "Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah kinda guess it wouldn't match
  up... "

Joran nod, "Have to have the right shoes to go with the outfit. Now, we can
  go with formal dress shoes or with a really nice set of dress boots 
with that
  outfit."

Tamber considers, eyeing Kevlan intently. "Dress boots, most definitely, if
  we are attempting to make a dashing figure out of him... " He gives a low,
  wry chuckle. "Galahad indeed, although I daresay a Galahad of a different
  style."

Joran smiles, "The easiest would be black. Black goes with most everything.
  But we can get the boots made with some patterns of colors that would match
  the blue and black coloring scheme."
Joran chuckles and nods, "THat's exactly what I was thinking... boots.
  Something in the line of the ancient cowboy style boots, particularly. But
  there are many, many styles."

Kevlan blinkblinks, newly taken aback. "You c'n git those... um... nanite
  things in leather, too?"

Tamber laughs merrily to Joran. "Ah, but Galahad was a knight, not a herder
  of cattle."
Tamber adds before Kevlan can protest, "My dear boy, farm-bred though you may
  be, you cannot be looking that part on this endeavor of yours."

Joran hmmms, "Though a softer, more supple material would do quiet as well..."
  He blinks, looking at Kevlan, "Oh, no, not really. At least not real
  leather. I was thinking more of dyed leather strips braided together in
  patterns and such.
Joran nods, "OK, something more sophisticated... More along the lines of the
  soft suede boots of ancient Europe's nobility... coming up to just belo the
  knee before bending back upon itself, hanging loosely. Meant to be worn atop
  tights, but we can make sure they match the outfit.

Kevlan blushes a little at Tamber, but the edge of his embarrassment is a
  blunt one; evidently, these two men are comfortable with one another, 
and the
  Singer is used to the Sorter's teasing. To Joran, Kevlan nods gravely,
  politeness clear in his tone though half his consonants are slurred by his
  accent, "You been havin' nice-soundin' ideas so far, sir, Ah-Ah-Ah cain't
  complain."

Tamber beams, patting Kevlan's nearer shoulder.

Joran hmmms, "Of course singer Sharr, you would cut a striking figure in
  tights... with a loose, almost baggy shirt hanging from your frame..." He
  nods, "Yes, quite a figure."

Kevlan blinks, blushes, and turns crimson again.

Tamber, amused, says knowingly, "Let us remain with dress breeches, for the
  nonce, good sir."

Joran eyes Kevlan a bit drollishly. "Come now. Tis but a suggestion. You have
  the final say as to what we make for you to wear."

Kevlan mumbles, "Ah-Ah-Ah think that'd be a tad drafty... "

Joran chuckles, "Oh, we can make it as warm and insulating as you like, no
  matter how thin, but I can see you are not thrilled with this idea.  
Breeches
  it is."

Tamber murmurs something about Galahad keeping his assets hidden behind his
  shield, earning him another mortified look from the Singer and a harshly
  whispered, "Tam!" Tamber winks.

Joran smiles, "Now, my good gentlemen. I'll get right to work on those
  drawings. Do come by tomorrow and see what you think."

Kevlan nodnods shyly, while Tamber bows, and turns to escort Kevlan out. As
  they leave, the Sorter's dryly murmured, "You DO realize we shall have to do
  something with your hair?" and Kevlan's look of horror suggest that they
  aren't nearly finished arguing the Singer's preparations....