<hr/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/a16483c2858f862945634d46b9ad41b9/tumblr_mh480oybdg1r64urio1_500.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Jaelyn Scot-Jones<br/><br/><strong>Faction:</strong>(n/a)<br/><br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 12th, 1876<br/><br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>midday<br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong>Jones’ Mercantile & Trade<br/><br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>open, Stranger (than me!)<br/><br/><hr/><br/>In the brief respite, all Jaelyn could think of was her poor, aching feet.  The multiple broken blisters acquired during her recent trek across the Maze had healed for the most part, but she was loath to put those dastardly boots back on.  Instead she opted for the dainty dress slippers lent along with the dress.  And after those first hours working the store she realized that fashion was a vanity she could do with out.<br/><br/>She was moving around the store - her store, she remembered, flooding with uncommon pride - to straighten shelves the throng of miners, eager for their goods, were not considerate enough to leave as neat and tidy as they found them to be.  All the while, Jae mentally noted stock that needed replenishing until an older gentleman came in to spur her direction back to the counter.  She didn't rush but continued tidying as she moved watching the man with interest.  He wasn't quite the dandy she thought on first glance, not with that raggedy coat and such poor grooming.  No, not a dandy, instead he was quite the codger and when he came closer, it was all she could do not to wrinkle her nose in distaste.<br/><br/>“Do you...  - ... do you have any irons?”  He asked.<br/><br/>Her immediate response was silent sympathy, he seemed like such a sad, desert husk of a man.  Then, when his request registered, confusion flitted across her face as visions of the Cathedral laundry came to mind.  The very hot, very flat irons were sometimes employed there, but from the looks of this fellow's clothes, impressive presentation was the last concern.<strong>"Umm... "</strong>Jae's blue eyes suddenly lit with a smile of understanding.<strong>"ohhh...  No.  I mean, I haven't come across any as of yet."  </strong><br/><br/>Her friendly smile faltered.<strong>"That is uhh... not to say that they can't be special ordered."</strong>She had seen a notation for handcuffs in the store ledger in her father's neat block print, special ordered for a Nate Hunter.<strong>"Have you,"</strong>She hesitated, not wanting to turn away business, but there was a good chance the blacksmith would be more helpful.<strong>"Have you sought out the blacksmith, sir?"</strong><br/>