Solo Joyful Hands

[Inia Skyglow]

37th of Winter, 512 Inia twitched, carefully measuring along the edge of the leather segment. She chewed her tongue thoughtfully. Her eyes sparked, flashing violet as she picked up a small charcoal pencil, carefully tracing a curved line along the leather, pausing only when she had drawn a large, vaguely four-sided shape. Still grinding her teeth against her tongue, she grabbed for a knife, fumbling with the handle. She took a sharp breath, holding the knife more carefully than before. Bloodstains on leather didn't sell clothes or armour. The knife's edge bit into the leather. Inia felt the resistance of the thick, tanned surface and pressed harder, carefully guiding the knife along the curved line. Following her pattern, she cut a panel out of the larger piece, tossing the scraps into a basket. Little bits of leather could be used for patches, and Laria didn't appreciate a waste of leather. Neither did Inia, for that matter, though in her case it was less a financial matter and more a personal one. Setting the leather panel aside, Inia reached for another large segment of leather. The teenage girl lied it flat across the table, weighing its corners with stones. Taking the pencil in hand again, she measured and traced two smaller shapes. She groaned, rubbing away one of the charcoal lines. She redrew it painstakingly, half-growling at the leather. She took a moment to stare at the drawn panels before she cut them away from the larger piece. She stacked the twin panels on the larger one, then turned back to the half-uncut piece. She cut two more small pieces, wide, curved bands, like crescents without points, removing them from the now-scrap leather, which she tossed into the basket. Smiling again, she turned to the cut leather. She grabbed at a small box and extracted a needle from inside, holding it between her teeth. She fished in the box again, removing a spool of waxed thread. Carefully, painstakingly, she threaded the needle, pulling the thick thread tight in the needle's eye. Inia glanced around and sighed. “Honestly, mister mannequin, must you always run off?” she asked the air, chuckling to herself. The mannequin in question sat across the room, as it had the entirety of the morning, despite Inia's testimony otherwise. The girl half-carried, half-dragged the mannequin back to the table, frowning at it in mock irritation. “Now, you, just stand still while I hold something on you.” Inia held two of the leather panels, carefully aligning them on the mannequin's torso. Grinning madly, she bent them, fitting them to the mannequin's form, before setting them back on the table, where they returned to flatness. She traded one of the panels for its mirrored twin and repeated the process, gingerly replacing the two panels on the table. She grabbed for the band-like bits of leather next, curving them around the false-man's mock-biceps. “Ok, you. You're done for now. Don't move.” Smiling, she patted the mannequin's head, congratulating it as she would a close friend. The girl turned back to her work, snatching the threaded needle. She held two of the panels together, took a deep breath, and then quickly growled, “holes, Inia! Poke holes first. How are you supposed to stitch without poking...” she trailed off, muttering incoherently to herself as she retrieved an awl, a mallet, a short wooden ruler, and the charcoal pencil she'd used earlier. Measuring carefully at first, but gradually abandoning the preciseness of the ruler for the comfort of her thumbnail, Inia left two rows of small marks along the matched edges of both pieces of leather. She rearranged the panels, repeating the process along what would be another seam, ignoring the ruler completely. She carefully marked the shoulder seams without aligning them. Measurement was useless along such awkward curves, she'd learned, and the best way to sew sleeves on to a leather jerkin was to simply do it, despite how instinctual and impulsive it made her feel. Her eyes sparkled a vibrant purple as she took her awl and hammered holes over each mark along each seam, leaving narrow openings for the thread she'd sew.

[Inia Skyglow]

She picked up her needle again, checked its thread, and took another deep breath. Certain she wasn't skipping even a single step, she slipped the needle up through the second hole of a seam's inner row. She grit her teeth, sighing, and removed the needle, holding it between her second and third fingers. Lifting the leather panel, Inia matched the outer row of holes on the opposite panel to the underside of the first panel's inner row. Smiling again, she put the needle through the bottom of the matched holes, pulling it and the waxed thread through, and pushing them down into the first pair of punchings. She repeated this process with the fourth and third holes, then with the sixth and fifth, gradually backstitching both lines of the overlapped seam. When the two panels were attached, she placed them onto the mannequin, curving them around the torso, checking the fit carefully. She stitched the second panel's mirror onto the back panel next, following the same methodical, familiar backstitch. Inia's smile broadened with each stitch as her hands fell into rhythm. If she were honest with herself, she might admit it was obsessive, or that she ought to tire of it eventually, but Inia's hands had chosen her life's work for her. Stitching, especially leather, would never grow old. Joyfully, her hands had been set on it since she was young. Inia kept grinning as she stitched the jerkin together, and as she lined it with soft fur. Inia's hands lingered on the fur as she stitched it to the jerkin's interior. Her stitches were more elaborate, forming a tight braided pattern through another set of holes she'd punched along the jerkin's edges. Once the garment was lined, she fit it onto the mannequin, then circled it slowly, admiring her handiwork. Satisfied, she set the jerkin aside and went to work on another item; a thick leather cloak. After cutting the two panels of leather and punching them, Inia's hands fell again into the rhythmic stitching, completing the simple structure rapidly. Finishing the cloak's outer edge required a different stitch, no less familiar to Inia but perhaps one less practised. The angled hem-like stitch still found its rhythm through her hands, though, quieting her heart and mind as the needlework possessed her. The cloak complete, she quickly measured the curved panels of leather for a hood and punched holes along her intended seams. Her hands struggled with the crossed stitch. Each little “x” along the hood's intended seam was nearly torturous. Inia grinned madly, determination and relish for challenge conquering her internal frustration as she muddled through the stitches. Her hand slipped once, leading to a sharp intake of breath as she quickly flung her hand away from the leather. “Bloodstains don't sell,” she said to herself, smiling sardonically. She could've used a thimble, of course, and have prevented little pricks and pokes entirely, but the feeling in her hands, the texture of the fabric, they were the whole reason for her work. Her hands simply needed to feel the fabric. She wiped the blood away from her finger on a small, pristinely cleaned cloth, squeezing the skin around the injury to draw as much blood as she could before she wiped it all away and dove back into her hands' dance. With the last tedious crossed stitch complete, Inia took to lining the hood with fervour, and finished its edges with equal excitement. Her persistent cheeriness led her to hum as she cut, punched, and stitched a pair of leather boots, lining each with exquisitely soft fur. When these were complete, she took to the last bit of the order, a pair of fur-lined leather trousers. This particular customer, she mused thoughtfully, must be quite well-off. He's a right pain to size, though. Quite tall and thin. Almost disproportionate. As her stitches came together, Inia's expression grew even happier, and her eyes darkened to a liquid violet, reflecting the cheerful calm of her heart as her hands stitched and lined the trousers. She let out a deep sigh of satisfaction as she finished the last edge of the trousers' leggings. She dressed the mannequin completely, quickly and loosely attaching the hood to the cloak before surveying her work thus far. The leather seamstress was positively beaming as she crossed the room again, grabbing her chisel and mallet before returning to the mannequin, grinning deviously. She chiselled columns of slanted, decorative slits into the jerkin and trousers, slicing through the leather delicately, taking care to keep the fur lining unmarked. The cloak was next, requiring a painstaking column of “v”-shaped gashes, which couldn't penetrate the entirety of the garment. Inia carved each one by hand, her hands trembling with the preciseness of her task. Perhaps two hours passed before Inia stood, admiring her handiwork. The beautiful leather outfit was for a special order, designed and co-ordinated perfectly, of the finest materials and, in Inia's admittedly biased opinion, of the highest quality in construction and workmanship. She grinned, hugging the mannequin tightly. "Brilliant job, you. Thank you for all your help." she said to the mannequin, chuckling to herself.

[Noblesse]

Inia Skyglow :

Experience:

• Drawing +2
  
• Sewing +3
  
• Leatherworking +3

Lores:

• Bloodstains Don’t Sell
  
• My Hands Will Never Tire of Leather
  
• Rulers are Useless with Curves

Notes:
For a short job thread that was all about leatherworking and making outfits, this was a really funny one! I was laughing about how she talked to the mannequin. It was almost as if she was expecting the dummy to answer back. Inia surely never fails to amuse me.

You did a good job in writing out the details in such a way that it didn’t bore. Inia’s quirks and musings definitely added a nice touch to the thread and kept things interesting. I’m sad I cannot give more points than this due to the briefness of the thread, but I do hope you keep up the good work!

True nobility lies in being superior to your former self

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out. Heehee.