Closed [Azure Reflections] Pale Thread Tapestry

[Evarista]

62nd of Autumn, 516 A.V. Fun was nowhere to be had. Those were the only thoughts going through Evarista's head as she laid sprawled on her bed, with one arm and one leg dangling from the side. Doing nothing was boring, but doing anything would force her to get up from the bed, and that would require effort. Wasn't there any way to have fun while doing nothing? That would be the solution to the constant dilemma of her life. The girl sorted through her options strategically. The whisky was on the desk, which was out of reach. Hanging out with Archibald, her pet spider, would take her all the way to the windowsill. There were no other objects of interest in her room, so that's where her train of thought stopped. This was Evarista's usual predicament, so habitually ingrained that it hurt. It hurt even more now that she was struck with the realization that it was no longer true. She actually did have plans. Fun plans. But because they would take effort, and would unfortunately involve leaving the estate, she had procrastinated. For almost two seasons now. It was not unlike her to be irresponsible, but this must have been a new record. Her back still on the bed, the girl raised one hand and reached inside of her mouth. It took a little while to morph forth the silk gland, but since her head had been almost meditatively empty, it was easy to concentrate on the process now that she had something to pay attention to. Pulling her fingers out of her mouth, she watched the string of silk extend upwards, until she couldn't raise her hand any more. Yes. This thing. She had once been inspired to do something great with it. Making a piece of clothing with thread of her own creation, as something tangible and interesting to show for her efforts, maybe even something to be proud of. Something worth a little legwork. However, as usual, laziness had the last word in that internal debate. Until now. Without letting go of the freshly made thread pinched between her finger and thumb, with the other end still disappearing into her mouth, the girl rose from the bed. The rigid motions and strained grunts were more befitting someone sixty years her senior, but eventually, she was on her feet, eyes scanning the room for anything that could be used as a spool to wrap the thread around. There, a lone wine cork on the back of the desk. It didn't look to fit any of the bottles arranged on the self-made minibar, so it was clearly something she just had forgotten to throw away. Sure was wondrous how trash can suddenly become treasure. Pressing the end of the thread to the cork with her thumb, Evarista began wrapping the thread around the makeshift spool. When the string ran out, she carefully pulled more out of her mouth, letting the gland generate the continuation of the fiber, before wrapping a few additional rounds around the cork. What could this be? Two meters, maybe? Would this be enough for a sample? Evarista didn't enjoy the prospect of spinning a huge spool of wire when she had no guarantee it would find an application. Besides, she was quite eager to get this to a professional weaver, one that could judge its quality, and whether it was fit at all to make cloth of. The girl was engulfed by the sudden excitement of digging up old ambitions from under a mountain of procrastination. Seeing the piece of string wrapped around a spool like this, it almost reminded her of thread samples she saw on display at Azure Reflections. When was the last time she was there? It must have been last year, when she ordered her current outfit. Curious what Alira would say if she was shown this. Turning to that snob of a seamstress had to be done with low expectations, but Evarista didn't know anyone else who would be interested in the subject. Besides, Azure Reflections were close to the estate, so at least it wouldn't be a long walk. Might as well go there right now, while they're still open, and while she herself didn't fall victim to procrastination again. Severing the thread at her lips with a freshly morphed chitinous scissor, the black-haired aristocrat wrapped the loose end around the cork and clutched her ready sample tightly. This had better not be in vain. A glance outside of the window confirmed the good weather, and a quick strain of memory confirmed the approximate location of the shop. Off she went, leaving the safety and boredom of her room behind. Not for too long, hopefully. Walking the relatively broad pathways of the Noble District wasn't troublesome. Not even Evarista, who had zero sense of direction, should be able to get lost here. She still did get lost on a regular basis as if prove the odds wrong, of course, and she barely recognized the bridge at the shop's entrance before nearly walking right past it. Close call. Pushing open the door, she was greeted by a semi-familiar sight of glamorous and expensive fabrics covering every inch of the walls, every mannequin, and last but not least, the vendor himself. As soon as she saw the handsome slave, Evarista clicked her tongue, realizing her mistake. Naturally, she had forgotten that Alira only visited the shop by previous arrangement. The smirking peacock kelvic behind the counter was useless for the purpose of her visit. The man didn't immediately recognize her, as she wasn't that regular of a customer, but after a few moments of visible memory strain, he called her name. Nice of him; she didn't remember his. "Welcome, Ms. Nitrozian, welcome! What can Azure Reflections offer you today?" Evarista approached the counter and showed him the thread, explaining that she wanted Alira to take a look at it, while avoiding to mention its origins. The peacock's reaction was not without surprise, and wonder why this would be of interest to the seamstress. The girl in black began to elaborate her point, trying to promote the thread as if she was a salesman. Listening to the two idiots arguing about things neither of them had any knowledge about could be rather entertaining, if there was an audience.

[Minnim]

Minnim had spent the entire day prior trying to secure a job in his new city. He had anticipated taking only chimes, but the dolt behind the counter had not understood the worth of his weavings, and it had taken him bells to negotiate a living wage. Finally, they had agreed on enough coppers to support the Nuit's lifestyle, and left with the anticipation of working the next day.

But when Minnim arrived, he found his supervisor standing behind the counter arguing with a noble-faced woman. She was Symmenestra-like, with long limbs, pale skin, and dark cascading hair. Indeed, she was holding a string, shimmering with something like Kalinor silk, and talking animatedly. She looked as though she were trying her hand at entrepreneurial work for the first time, and failing comically.

To be fair, she chose a poor target.

The man behind the counter was clueless. He was only a slave, and those who forgot this fact were quickly clued in by his animalistic, clearly Kelvic nature. He had no focus, no discipline, and his only interests were, as he so elegantly put it, shiny things.

Minnim went to her rescue. He moved with confidence past capes, blankets, and robes, all waving gently in his wake. He removed his cloak from his head as he neared, letting it rest on his shoulders to reveal his old, weathered skin. His black tongue found the unhealed split in his lip, toying with it habitually as he smiled.

"My dear, what have we?" He interupted the quiet, laboring thought of Azure. "Show me. The bird knows nothing of the value of textiles. And furthermore, I might make good use of it."

Unlike him. The words were unspoken, but neatly implied with a crook of his head and a single raised brow. Minnim had long ago honed the art of subtle insult, and drew satisfaction from it whether or not the Kelvic caught on.

[Evarista]

Evarista was so engaged in her conversation that she didn't notice the entry of another visitor. Her ultimately frustrated attempts to convince the peacock almost evolved into aggression, but she her energy soon ran out and she went quiet, chewing on her lip in annoyance. It would have been wiser to simply write a letter to Alira directly and attach the thread sample to it. She came here because she was too impatient for answers, but it turned out to be a waste of time. As she was about to turn around and leave, she finally saw the cloaked man, who immediately addressed her. Slightly startled by his sudden emergence and wizened complexion, the girl took a step back to look him up and down quickly. The thin old man wearing a dusty cloak didn't look like a typical customer at Azure Reflections. Admittedly, he didn't look typical for the Noble District at all. His uninhibited demeanor and somewhat smug tone softened her impression somewhat; somehow, it reminded her of Alira. Maybe he was an acquaintance of hers? She'd expect one to dress fancier. Something didn't add up. He seemed like the sort she would find agreeable, however. She didn't like introducing herself, so skipping the pleasantries was a welcome way to start the conversation. She still had no idea what to make of his origins, furrowing her brows slightly in another attempt to guess who he actually was. Nothing came to mind. Realizing that she was making too long of a pause, Evarista mechanically held up the thread to him so that he could take it, not really knowing what to expect. "Very well, take a look. It's silk; sort of." Still curious about him and his sudden appearance, she squinted slightly to bring his aura into focus. The girl was seldom interested in examining human auras, but this seemed like a decent way to get some information about him without having to ask. However little information there was to get with her modest auristic ability, in any case. She could tell nothing of the emotional contents, and she wasn't that interested at this time. What she did notice, and something that intrigued her, was the structural oddity. He didn't have the usual shimmering corona that the average human carried. Instead, his aura was darker and thicker, with many more layers than what was sensible. He did look like he's been alive for a good while, but the depth of his astral emanations was too deep to make sense. The girl raised an eyebrow, unsure how to interpret this observation. Meanwhile, the peacock kelvic at the counter was feeling ignored. He pouted and complained playfully, but not without a hint of hurt in his voice. "Oh, am I not beset by rude people today!"

[Minnim]

Minnim gave a quick look to Azure, frowning faintly. He didn't need interruptions in what might already be a delicate dealing. He could hardly tell the clerk directly to shut up, though; it was only his first day. He considered hypnotising the boy. It would be easy to suggest urgency elsewhere in his simple mind, if only for a moment. But around a stranger, this was a risky move. Instead he flashed a fake, patronizing smile in Azure's direction and promptly returned to his business.

The woman neglected to introduce herself. This was quite fine with Minnim, as he did not care to give his own introduction, but it was something that he noted as curious. Most businesses wanted their name everywhere. He left it alone, regardless of his slight confusion. It wasn't worth worrying over, and especially wasn't worth making enemies over.

He stood still, waiting for her reaction to his proposal. Her eyes narrowed in what looked like suspicion as she stared at him intently, searching for something about him. Minnim would have grown nervous in his younger days, worried by the fact that he might be outed as a Nuit, or a mage in some cities, or killed for good. Now, with his age and wisdom, he knew that people would not do such a thing here, in the open noble district. He might have to worry about more subtle methods, such as sabotage, but here he was safe. So, he simply waited for her to finish.

The ticks drew out longer and longer, until finally she seemed to realize he was still present. She did not applogize, though, which he again found intriguing. However, he silently took the silk in his hands when it was offered.

His frail hands curled around the string, cradling it gently. It was soft, and faintly sticky in the fashion of freshly dried paint. The thread was thin- moreso than other silks he had seen- and it stretched when wound between crooked fingers.

Minnim smiled to himself. The thread was absolutely wonderful. With its elastic and sticky qualities, it would fashion a wonderful belt when woven. It could make a fashionable scarf, though he couldn't judge its warmth from the single thread, and its potential as a woven shoe for dancers was something that he couldn't even begin to imagine at the moment.

"Silk, you said? I'm certain Alira would love to have a look at this." He turned it over in his hands again, letting it slip through the cracks in his palms. He momentarily considered inquiring of its origin, but tossed the idea in favor of a more friendly, practical question.

"Do you have access to more? I can't tell you the price of it now, but I can tell you that if Alira doesn't offer one satisfactory, I will be interested in a steady supply. On a more personal level, you understand."

How wonderful it would be to have his own supplier of this fine silk. And if he could pay her enough to work make their deal exclusive, why, he would hardly have to work a day under the feathered slave! Just the thought made him smile as he handed the silk back to his partner gently.

[Evarista]

Evarista watched the man's face intently as he examined the thread, somewhat nervous about the outcome. She's never showed her secret morphing product to anyone before, and having it scrutinized like this was rather embarrassing for some reason. His positive reaction put her at ease; it was even a little flattering. He must be knowledgeable about textiles, she thought. More knowledgeable than the fellow behind the counter, in any case. Receiving back the piece of string, she glanced at it with some pride for a moment before turning her attention back to the older male. When he asked if she had a steady supply, and started talking about money, Evarista scratched her head in mild confusion. She hadn't thought that far ahead, and certainly didn't expect the conversation to progress to the business stage so quickly. Although, perhaps this was the sign of an expert, as one would be able to judge the silk itself, rather than having to be convinced in an argument about its quality. While she was happy to get such a pleased reaction, she wasn't sure if she could promise anything close to a steady supply of anything. She was doing this more to satisfy her curiosity rather than to make money, so closing any long-term manufacturing deals was not her intention. On the other hand, the cloaked figure in front of her seemed to be a serious tradesman who wanted to talk business. Beating around the bush might make him angry, and the girl was loathe to lose this opportunity to put her thread into action. "Yes, of course. I don't have any more on hand right now, but I could arrange some in short order. Today, even. I'll only need... a few hours." Evarista slowed down as she talked, eyes darting unsurely around the room. She stopped herself before she made any unachievable promises, although her current plan was poorly enough improvised already. Slightly stressed by her self-imposed deadline, the girl felt her hands get clammy, wiping her palms on her skirt absent-mindedly while her mind was hectically planning the afternoon. She'd have to go home right now and try to make a decent spool of silk. She had only ever made single short strings before, so making a commercially viable spool of the stuff sounded like a huge undertaking in comparison. Daunting, but also a little exciting. Not being practiced with such situations, she forced a grin for her prospective 'client' and made a few hesitation sounds before she found any words to say. "Er, yes. I'm going to go and procure a full spool right now. Where should I bring it when it's do- I mean, when I get it?" Breaking a nervous sweat from almost misspeaking, she was already edging towards the door. More than anything, she was afraid that the mysterious clothier would change his mind. She would much prefer dealing with him than with Alira, who, while a competent seamstress, was rather insufferable in her constant remarks about Evarista's inferior fashion tastes. That was not something the girl was in the mood to endure at the moment. The man in grey appeared to be more inclined to get to the point, so she needed to secure his attention somehow... whoever he was.

[Minnim]

The woman's nervousness was almost amusing. Her eyes flicked back and forth, her palms were wiped on her clothing to be rid of the sweat trapped there. She looked as though she were under duress, being forced into a position of servitude. Minnim had not been intending to keep her in such a state as slavery, but if she would put herself there, of course he would not argue.

He smiled gently, mouth closed to hide his bent teeth. He did not question her strange word choice, nor her suddenly sputtering language. In fact, he reached out to her with kind words. "You can bring the spool back here, darling. It will be safe with me. " Then, just for good measure, he reached out to her with a fan of his warm Djed, letting it envelop his words in a much softer feeling. "Don't worry about how long it takes, either. I have faith that you will come through."

The hypnotic magic warmed his tongue, offering an emotional response of trust and comfort. Although he knew she would easily recognize the feeling as unprovoked, and possibly as foreign, he hoped it would be enough to sway her favor. After all, he only needed a little push.

He watched her edge closer to the door, her muscles practically jumping under her skin with nerves. By the scattering of her thoughts and the anxiety in her body, he figured she was in need of a strong hand to guide her. If it was true, she would take to him easily, and become a fantastic test subject. The willing ones always worked best.

"One last thing, doll." He called as she scooted away. "It would be best if I could take a name for Miss Alira?" Minnim nodded at Azure, moving his hands in a mock writing so that he would know to note the name. The Kelvic looked at him blankly, to which the Nuit sighed. Minnim turned away in defeat with a slow eye roll.

"Or perhaps, if you have to come find me...ask for the weaver."

[Evarista]

The man's amicable reply made Evarista's anxiety subside somewhat. In fact, it subsided a little too quickly, but she ignored the uncanny feeling and instead focused on the fact that he was willing to cooperate. Maybe there was something to the thread that roused his interest, maybe he just wanted to appear friendly, but in either case it seemed that she was off to a good start. All she needed now was to get home and start the spinning. Although, now that she wasn't as stressed, she realized that throwing in some extra pleasantries before she left might not hurt the relationship. "My name is Evarista. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'll be here with the silk in the afternoon." She presented her clammy hand for a handshake and gave him her most friendly smirk, before finally turning around and leaving the shop. Walking past the thread shelves, she quickly snatched an empty wooden spool from one of the boxes, hoping the weaver and the kelvic wouldn't notice. Even footsteps brought her across the Noble District as she mused about how to satisfy her promise. Although the older man's words have somehow dispersed her worries when she was still in the shop, the discomfort of having accepted responsibility was coming back to her as she closed the modest distance to the estate. Her only consolation was that this responsibility wasn't someone else's business, as it usually was, but her own. Once she has made it home and reached her room, she was about to mechanically flop down on the bed and 'rest' after having to go outside. It was her usual rationalization for not getting anything done, but this time, it would work against her. Breaking this cherished habit was inconvenient, but she grudgingly backed away from the bed and flopped down on her armchair instead. Might as well get to work right away, while she still had the morale. Pulling a string out of her mouth as usual, she wound a few loops around the spool, but then stopped and frowned. She already understood that she couldn't make a whole spool like this, because her arms would fall off long before that. There needed to be a better system here, one where unnecessary arm movements were minimized. Fortunately, with her abilities, it didn't take a genius to figure out an improvement. A pair of mandibles emerged under her cheeks, separating from the skin and baring their aposematic coloring. At the end of each mandible was a small pincer that could be used to pull the thread out of her mouth, while her hands were free to hold and turn the spool. Not bad, she thought, and resumed her production. It didn't take long before her wrists began to ache anyway. No, this wouldn't do. She needed something even more efficient. How could she turn the spool without straining her wrists? The answer was brilliant in its simplicity: do away with the wrists. Turning her entire hand into a thin prong, she inserted it into the cavity inside of the spool, securing it there. Adding a simple swivel at the base of the prong allowed her to turn the prong, along with the spool on it. As the spool turned, more thread could be pulled out of the gland without any other effort. This way, she could spin the thread while sitting almost completely still. All she had to do was to attach and detach various arm muscles to the swivel to operate it, rotating the muscles in shifts so that none would get too tired. Excellent! Happy with the clever and no-so-complex arrangement, the young aristocrat spun and spun, soon affording herself to relax in the armchair as her muscles found a good rhythm in turning the spool. Layer after layer covered the piece of wood, thickening gradually yet noticeably. Although the process took concentration at first, Evarista soon found her mind wandering, and by the time she snapped back to attention, the spool was hardly visible, bulging with a great many meters of silvery string. Satisfying, if a little surprising. So, with some basic anatomic engineering, it didn't turn out all that difficult. Getting a respectable spool took her slightly over a bell, without that much effort expended. The only discomfort came from the invasive pang of hunger as her body revolted against the sudden escape of proteins. Good thing lunchtime was around the corner. Having consumed the barbecued chicken more voraciously than usual, Evarista was now on the way back to Azure Reflections, carrying her product carefully as it glistened in the afternoon sun. It looked somewhat like the undyed silk thread sold at the shop, but not quite, and she couldn't determine if that was a good or a bad thing. Her early auristic examinations told her that spider silk was even more tough and elastic than that retrieved from silkworms, and while that sounded positive, she had no idea how it would reflect on the silk's value as clothing material. Entering the shop, she approached the bored-looking kelvic at the counter, feeling her anxiety return with every step she took. noticing her, he made an annoyed grimace and addressed her in a capricious tone, as if he was doing her a huge favor. "Oh, hey, it's you. We're closing soon. What do you want?" Not even bothering to greet him, she looked around before asking the only thing that concerned her. Her fingers fidgeted with the spool idly. "Is he here? The weaver. I have something for him."

[Minnim]

Minnim moved fluidly, guiding and pulling the yarn in and out of itself. Over, under, over, under... It was a simple weaving pattern, the oldest and plainest he knew, but it was comforting. It allowed him to think while he worked, and that was more valuable to him than a sophisticated product. After all, his employers didn't yet know that he could do anything else, and he didn't want to prove them wrong just yet.

He pushed the bar of the loom back, compressing the previously finished line and sealing it in place. He leaned back, shaking out his old bones before moving on to the next line. Again, he feel into the easy rhythm. Over, under, over, under...

The motions were so hypnotic that he almost missed the sound of the door swinging open. He heard the soft murmur of voices, but he could not place them. He wasn't one to pry, and so he stayed seated, waiting patiently until Azure appeared beside him.

"The girl is back up front. She's looking for you."

The distaste in the Kelvic's voice was nearing tangible.

"I'll be up in a tick." Minnim assured him before returning to his work.

A few ticks went by, rolling over into chimes. Still he stayed, weaving on the rickety loom with equally rickety hands. He always kept everyone waiting as long as they would. It was a power game- something he had picked up in Sahova. It was a way to exert authority passively. It was especially popular among the Nuits, who had an already skewed sense of time, and nothing urgent to do.

He knew that the mortals tired of the game much more quickly than he, though, and he didn't want her to run off. So he stood and made his way to the front of the store before less than half a bell had passed.

When he saw her holding the spool, he smiled in welcome. "You've returned." It wasn't a question, nor an exclamation, but a simple statement; he only made his observations. "And with quite the supply."

His hand brushed back inside his cloak and procurred a bag that jingled with the music of Mizas. "So, assuming the approximate quality of silk, that would be...10 Gold for the spindle?" He offered. He knew it was low; he would only pay more for her secrets. "Unless it is of a rarer source than silk moths."

[Evarista]

After a short argument, the kelvic finally informed Evarista that the weaver was in, and that he would be so kind as to call him for her. Waiting for the peacock to return from the staff-only spaces, Evarista paced in a small circle in front of the counter, almost shivering with impatience. The returning footsteps could not come too soon. "He'll be up in a few." Throwing the message her way, he paused for a moment behind the counter, but then went off somewhere to the side to dust off and straighten some of the dresses on display. Not because it was actually necessary, but because he wanted to avoid the suffocatingly tense air around Evarista while she continued walking back and forth in front of the counter. Engaging in idle chatter with someone he viewed as a brutal fashion criminal was below him, and while Evarista thought his disdain of her tastes was somewhat exaggerated, she didn't find any desire to try correcting him. Tick after tick passed. The young aristocrat was beginning to get dizzy from pacing in a small space, so she leaned on the counter to rest, still clutching her creation and staring at it intently. She had to prevent herself from drifting into a wishful daydream about what could be done with the thread, and remained utterfly indifferent to the dazzling display of real clothing around her. Azure was slowly making his way around the store, pretending to be busy, but his annoyance with the delay was gradually starting to show through on his face. The atmosphere in the room was beginning to get more and more awkward, but if there was anything that Evarista was really good at, it had to be waiting, and she would much rather have to wait than to hurry. Even so, the impatience was starting to make her sweat. She cast a discrete glance at the kelvic. Did he lie to her about the weaver being in? That seemed unlikely, since he looked no less uncomfortable as he now more or less obviously drifted around the store without any aim, just to avoid engaging her. What was worse, the shop was reaching its early closing time. It was becoming increasingly difficult to resist the urge to climb over the counter and check what was going on. Ultimately, Azure lost his patience before she did. "Ah, that's enough! What is he doing?" Throwing up his arms in exasperation, the handsome kelvic puted as elegantly as his nerves allowed, before storming off to admonish his unpunctual coworker... and almost bumping into him at the door to the back room. Without even bothering to ask what took so long, Azure simply crossed his arms, making it obvious that all he cared about was to get this over with. "Do your business quickly, here! We have to close up." Evarista had already forgotten about the kelvic and shifted all of her attention to the emerging figure. Even though the delay should have been annoying, it just made her all the more happy to finally see him. In a way, like the kelvic, she was just eager to let things get to the good part. Forcing a smile a bit too late for it to be natural, the girl nodded politely in greeting, looking at the coin pouch unsurely. While she had no idea how silk yarn was normally priced, ten mizas was hardly enough for a pair of shoelaces in the social context of this shop, so she didn't even bother pretending to have taken his offer seriously. And that wasn't necessary, either. There was something else she wanted. "Hmmm... I would consider donating this to you, if you showed me how you handle it. I've... always been a bit intrested in weaving, you see. We could talk at length, then... about this." The gears of Evarista's mind ground as fast as they could as she produced speech with her usual difficulty. He could tell that the silk was not from silk moths, that much was obvious, and she didn't really mind telling him its true origins. In fact, she longed to tell him – just not in the presense of the kelvic. Beaming at the old gentleman, she waited for his response, indicating with a small gesture that she was ready to hand over the spool right now if he agreed.

[Minnim]

OOCNot sure if you want to continue here with the learning, or wait and start another thread. You can PM me if you need to talk about it.

She was quite patient with him, appearing only lightly perturbed by his absence. He was pleased with her reaction, even if the smile was a tad delayed. It assured him that she valued his time and skills, and she was therefore worth speaking to.

Minnim's eyebrows popped up when she mentioned it being a donation, however. He did not generally enjoy being endebted to anyone for any reason, but she quickly proposed something he was more comfortable with- a trade. Her spool and secrets for his knowledge. There could be more hidden in the offer, he reasoned, but it would be worth seeing.

She offered him the spool with an eager nudge, and he took it from her with a smile.

"Thank you, dear." He said, "That would be wonderful. I always do love to see a young interested soul. Especially someone competent in this manner of thing."

Minnim waved a hand to Azure, who was still begrudgingly pretending to straighten racks of clothing. "I suppose we should get out of this one's hair first, though. Poor fellow is going to put his heart out with all his worrying about time and work."

Minnim shook his head in disdain, clicking his heavy black tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"So where shall we go...Evarista, was it? Do you have a preferred haunt?"