Solo Mending Broken Things

Oresnya attempts to make a friend of an enemy

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The westernmost tip of Kalea, Wind Reach is home to an amazing group of people and their giant eagle mounts. [Lore]

Mending Broken Things

Postby Oresnya Cacao on July 28th, 2019, 5:49 pm

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Summer the 51st, 519 AV


Broken. That was all Oresnya’s life consisted of. Broken things. Broken things and what she did with them.

It began with her birth. The moment she entered the world, she was already part of a broken thing. The Symenestra way of life. With her people, life required death. That was not meant to be the way of things, but it was and always continued to be. Oresnya lost two sisters to that way of life, and those lost seemed to get forgotten. To remedy that brokenness, she had resolved to come to Wind Reach, to bring her sister’s memory to where it might not end up lost forever.

But the journey had not been direct, and during it, Oresnya had met many broken people, had become a part of a broken family, and had done her part to put it back together. She had left it still imperfect and half-broken and, in doing so, had broken her own heart. Now, to not break the oath she had made to herself and her late sister, she had left more things to be mended, but she knew those would have to wait.

Here, in Wind Reach though, she had just been confronted with more broken things. Broken people accepting their broken system, just as the Symenestra had done in Kalinor. The mountain itself had seemed ready to break last season, as the world shook and pieces of rocky cliff faces fell away. But even her quiet day to day life was filled with broken things. Most often, all Oresnya found herself trusted with at her work was the clothing of Deks, and Deks most often only came for the Fabric’s services if their clothing was tattered or torn. Mending torn fabric seemed to be Oresnya’s only task, but she did it to the best of her ability in hopes it would ingratiate her with those above her.

It had not.

Sure, it had impressed Felicity, to some extent. Perhaps impressed wasn’t the right word, but it had proved that Oresnya was useful, that she had a place here, that she shouldn’t completely dismissed and ignored. However, every success Oresnya had had bought her disdain from the Inarta who worked under Felicity. That too had come to a head in the middle of last season when one of them had had Oresnya dragged to the Fighting Pits and forced her to fight. Oresnya had left with a myriad of broken bones, but it was perhaps her Inarta cohort who left with the worse wound. In a desperate bid to save herself, Oresnya had bit the other woman and left a potent dose of venom in the woman’s shoulder. Symenestra venom was a frightening weapon, and it had eaten away a large amount of flesh.

The woman was sitting at her station in their little shop, working quietly and diligently on the work that had been assigned to her. Quiet work from an Inarta was not a regular occurrence, but she sat a little apart from the other seamstresses she had once counted as friends. The initial weeks following the fight, the other seamstresses had flooded their fellow Inarta with their support, and Oresnya had been unsure if she would survive the season. But as the weeks wore on and the injured woman showed little progress in her recovery, the woman began to distance themselves from her, certain she would soon be demoted in her standing. Even as Oresnya watched her work today, she could spot the trembling of the woman’s hand and the lack of surety in her actions. The skin over the wound was as healed as it would ever be, but there was a grotesque scar where the skin had sloughed away and had to regrow that covered a better part of her should.

Though it hadn’t been her fault that the fight had begun, Oresnya still felt a modicum of responsibility for her fellow seamstress’s current state, and she wished she could do something to repair the relationship between them. Not that there had ever really been one. Except to snicker at and belittle her, the other workers had had little to do with the Symenestra in their midst. Felicity had helped to further that rift by segregating Oresnya to a place where she was practically out of sight.

Realizing she had been staring for several chimes and not wanting to get caught doing so, Oresnya looked at the pair of bryda in her hands. She had been staring at it for the better of a bell and still didn’t know what to do with it. One leg was coming apart at the seams but was so threadbare that every time Oresnya tried to sew it back together it only ripped through the fragile fabric and frayed the material more. Her knowledge in tailoring and sewing was limited. The only thing she knew how to do was stitch a simple pattern into things that needed to be held together. Anything beyond that, and she was at a loss.

Picking up the pants to try once more, Oresnya frowned as a whole corner of the fabric frayed completely, leaving her with nothing but individual threads hanging loosely. She swore in Symenos and dropped the project back on to her table. She looked up to find several people giving her a wary look, Felicity included. It was the common reaction any time she spoke her native tongue.

But one eye that caught hers was the woman she had bitten, and an idea, likely a bad one, began growing in Oresnya’s mind. Gathering all of her supplies and putting them into the basket that kept her table tidy, she placed the bryda on top of it all, picked it up, and walked over to the woman in question. Her mind raced, trying to think of what was the best thing to say, not wanting to be overly forward with an apology but not wanting to appear to be using the woman either.

In the end, she settled on the truth. “I need your help.”
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Oresnya Cacao
The Chain sets us free.
 
Posts: 118
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Joined roleplay: July 3rd, 2018, 3:38 am
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Mending Broken Things

Postby Oresnya Cacao on August 1st, 2019, 3:43 am

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The Inarta looked up from her work and stared at Oresnya, not sure why the Widow would be there. Oresnya immediately began to regret her decision and wondered if the woman was going to finish what she had started at the Fighting Pits. There was a moment where the woman’s hands curled from their normally graceful posture to angry fists, but a flash of pain crossed her eyes. Soon after, her hands relaxed, and the Inarta looked to Oresnya.

“What?”

Unsure if she had said the words right, even though it was a phrase she had memorized because she needed it often, Oresnya repeated it once more in agonizingly slow Nari. “I need… your… help.”

The other seamstress continued to stare, incredulous that Oresnya could be so bold to ask her of all people for help.

Oresnya remembered her manners and added a quick, “Please.”

The Inarta stared for what felt like a chime more, then went back to her own sewing project. For a moment, Oresnya held on to hope, but an invitation to sit never came.

She was beginning to turn away when the Inarta’s voice stopped her. “Quit wasting my time. I’m slow enough as is. Sit.”

Oresnya couldn’t catch most of the Nari that sped off the woman’s tongue. She had spent far too little time with Val her first two seasons in Wind Reach, and her Nari had not grown much for that reason. What she did catch was something about wasting time and the very obvious command at the end to sit. Doing as she was told, she pulled up an empty chair and set her basket on it. Her teacher-to-be continued sewing, so Oresnya waited until she was acknowledged, studying the way the Inarta’s fingers and hands moved keeping a steady and consistent pattern while moving at twice the speed Oresnya ever went at, all of this even while her hand still trembled. Her mind tried to capture the motion, hoping to emulate it when she had the chance.

Finishing the short stretch she had been sewing, the Inarta turned back to Oresnya with an annoyed sigh. “Show me.”

Setting the pants out across the table so they lay flat, Oresnya pulled the leg in question toward her and held it up, so her teacher could see it. Oresnya was about to explain her predicament, but the other woman took the leg from her hands before she could speak and inspected the fraying portion carefully. The Inarta saw something and held the fabric closer to her face, extracting a stray thread of Oresnya’s from among the tattered remnants of the bryda cloth. Holding it up between herself and Oresnya, the Inarta raised an eyebrow. “Did you really try sewing this back together?”

Oresnya nodded sheepishly.

The other seamstress smirked, more amused than malicious, and discarded the thread. “You’d have to be a miracle worker to fix this.”

Once again, the words were too fast for Oresnya’s untrained ears, but she caught enough to get the gist of the phrase. She nodded again. “I do not do miracles.”

She hadn’t quite got the hang of most contractions, and it made her Nari even slower and more clunky sounding.

Oresnya’s teacher looked the pair of pants over again. “They’d be better off just buying a new pair of bryda.” She turned them over once more. “But they are Dek and can’t, so we’ll do what we can.” She held out a hand. “Shears.”

Oresnya quickly dug through her basket and found her single pair of large scissors that she used on all of her projects. She held them out to her teacher who took one look at them and shook her head.

“Too large.” The Inarta shifted through her own basket and pulled out a much smaller pair. “I have several. Take this one. It’s old and wearing down, but you need one. It’ll do well.”

“Thank you.” Oresnya had mastered that word.

The other seamstress glared at her. “Don’t think this makes us friends.”

Oresnya shook her head.

Satisfied that that much was understood, the Inarta went on to teaching Oresnya what to do. “See here, where the seam is already coming apart?” Setting the shears to them and snipping through the thread holding the fabric together, she began to work her way up it. “Separate the seam. Just be careful not to cut the fabric on either side.” She set the shears and Oresnya’s project back into the Symenestra’s long-fingered hands. “You finish it. Separate all the pieces and keep them intact. We’ll need them.”

The Inarta immediately went back to her project, shaking fingers holding the needle as still as possible as she began to thread together a piece of her project. Diligently, Oresnya went to work on her assignment, setting the shears between the two pieces and hooking beneath the threads that held them together, double-checking each time before actually snipping through them. It was tedious, but it was what she had been told to do. She set herself an unbreaking pattern and slowly crept up the side of the leg.
User avatar
Oresnya Cacao
The Chain sets us free.
 
Posts: 118
Words: 144043
Joined roleplay: July 3rd, 2018, 3:38 am
Race: Symenestra
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Medals: 3
Featured Character (1) Featured Thread (1)
Mizahar Grader (1)


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