Closed [The Weft and Warp] Taught and Taught [Sosicly]

[Llyvi]

Day 47 | Season of Autumn | 513 AV Llyvi’s fingers were dexterous, but not as much as he’d preferred. He pulled at a loose strand of silk and made a face at it. Three pairs of eyes were trained on him as he undid his mistake and continued to weave the weft through the warp. He could feel the analytical stares burning holes into his tawny figure. It made him squirm. Why was youth so inexplicably intimidating? He was teaching them the plain weave. It was the simplest of techniques, and no Symenestra could go on living past their youth without knowing it. “The objective is to form a criss-cross pattern on your loom,” he said to the children, their silence aggressive. They couldn’t be more than ten years of age, yet they could evoke such discomfort in Llyvi. “We achieve this by crossing the weft thread over one warp thread, under the next, and then over the next.” As he spoke, he attempted to demonstrate. However, as he said “over,” his weft would go under, and when he said “under,” the weft would cross over. He flushed, noticing his mistake, and hoped the students wouldn’t. Of course, they probably did. Llyvi pretended they didn’t. He was sitting cross-legged behind the loom, his rear spoilt by the comfort of a cushion. The three Symenestra children watched him from around their own looms, mimicking his nimble-enough fingers. Llyvi could imagine their shared, hidden smirks. It was his first session with students, and his skill seemed to be dampened by their presence. “Over, under, over, under,” he continued, his quiet voice made loud in the quiescence of the Weft and Warp.

[Sosicly Magnolia]

OOCLooks like ace material to me Just add the timestamp and we’re all set! Check my CS for whatever dates work for both of us, don’t worry about before or after the party, Sosicly is a black out drunk, she won’t really remember a whole lot. The noise was unnerving. Sosicly glanced up from her work again, amused and annoyed in equal measures. The Weft was usually punctuated by its silence but the younger the students required more instruction. She remembered some of her own lessons, shook her head, and abandoned her work. No more than a cursory glance was given to her when she approached the small group. A quick bend to grab her book and inkstick before she approached the small group behind the older students. The instructor she knew but rarely interacted with, Llyvi was his name if she remembered correctly. She stared closely at him for a minute, and watched the way he seemed to grow louder along with the obvious discomfort on his face. An amused smile played on her face, that was only part envy. She had never been asked to teach unless it was the elder students, this class looked much more interesting than the ones her age. Quietly she moved behind Llyvi, the children giving her no more than a cursory glance. There she slid her book in front of his weaving and flashed both him and the children a bright smile. There is no need to shout, they can hear you. They might find it more interesting it you make it a game. She removed the book and then sat beside him and corrected one of the students in front who was so focused on the teacher she had made a mistake in her work. Using her nails Sosicly undid the child’s last few rows and waved at her to go again.

[Llyvi]

Reading what Sosicly had written, the flush that crept up his neck was enhanced by the death-like pallor of his skin. “Sibea,” he whispered, flashing a delicate smile; just a slight pull on the corner of his lips, just a slight crinkle of his eyes to brighten his gaunt features. Something inside him warm at the thought of having Sosicly there with him, the pace of his erratic breathing slowing by two notches. He appreciated the help and companionship—he could hardly deal with these children and their chilling silence. He nodded, and then looked up from his loom. “All right,” he murmured, but it was all he needed to gather the attention of the three children that looked rather distracted anyway. They raised their heads in eerie synchronization; Llyvi flinched inwardly. Breathe in. Breathe out. “I was thinking . . . ,” he started to continue, but faltered after he temporarily lost the ability to form coherent sentences. His eyes flickered to Sosicly, and then back to the children, and then back to Sosicly. They were all waiting. “We could, perhaps, turn this into a little . . . competition? Game?” The children shared a three-way glance. How they manage that so smoothly, Llyvi wondered. His heart fluttered capriciously. He didn’t know how to go beyond this. “Um . . . .” His voice was beginning to climb upwards. He squirmed, and then whispered to Sosicly, “I don’t know if they even like games.”

[Sosicly Magnolia]

The young woman gave him a look that clearly stated ‘who wouldn’t?’ before turning to the children thoughtfully. She herself had always enjoyed games as a child, and they were the only way she had the patience to learn weaving to begin with. After a moment she made an ‘aha’ gesture and wrote to Llyvi quickly, staring at him closer he looked more familiar than she thought. A vague apology of some sort flitted through her head along with darts but she ignored it in favor of writing again. It is something simple, a competition that will teach them to watch for mistakes. Have them use chalk to connect their mistakes into a shape you choose. The least like the shape wins. Sosicly handed the book off to Llyvi and put her hand up in a stop motion then waved them closer. After a chime she pulled the book back and wrote to the children this time. A grin came across her face and she wrote again, We will play a game. The winner gets to teach Versadavi and me. The three children looked slightly intrigued and slightly wary but nodded after each had read, one finally piping up in a soft whisper. “What happens if we lose?” Sosicly flashed her fangs in amusement and shrugged, content to let them wonder. Turning her attention back to Llyvi she raised an eyebrow as if to ask if he had any objections, then waved her hand at him to continue. Then wrote again but she didn’t hand it to Llyvi just yet, watching the scene play out.

[Llyvi]

Llyvi didn’t know what they’d do if they lost. He was as clueless as they were. Llyvi quirked a frown as he re-read what Sosicly had written. A pinched crease between his brows appeared as he ran through the details in his head, and he came up from his thoughts with a complete lack of an expression; blank. Once again, everybody’s eyes were trained on him—the children wore varying degrees of simple curiosity, and Sosicly’s gaze felt almost cheeky. “A game,” he said, repeating the word more for his account than the four Symenestra that sat around him. He looked at each of the little children, the struggle to meet their eyes great, but not unbearable. And then, he asked them, “So. How many of you think that you’ve no mistakes?” One of the boys, who called himself Tell, answered with confidence, “Me.” His two classmates looked at each other and shrugged. Llyvi stared at Tell’s shaggy, dusty brown hair and youthful eyes that commanded full authority—he would grow up to be quite something, Llyvi thought. “All right. Let me see.” Tell spun his own loom around and showed Llyvi. It wasn’t a difficult weave, and Tell had done well for a child his age, and Llyvi told him so—Tell beamed—but the corners of Llyvi’s lips lifted when his careful eyes spotted a few mistakes. The weaving told Llyvi about Tell’s arrogance and carelessness—most likely, he thought the plain weave to be too simple and charged ahead. On more than one occasion, the thread went over two or under two. Llyvi suppressed his comments and sat back. “See if you guys can find your own mistakes. Don’t try to fix them now, but, um, find them. Yes, Tell, that includes you.” His shoulders sagged, relishing in the temporary release that he felt when the children crawled back to their looms to check for mistakes.

[Sosicly Magnolia]

He was obviously uncomfortable but Sosicly wasn’t sure if it was her company or company in general. She tried to think back to instances when she’d paid attention to what Llyvi was doing but rarely did she remove her eyes from her own work. Especially with Masquerade costumes to be done, which reminded her of her own projects she was currently skirting. But when the children, especially Tell, checked their work with vigor he seemed to relax. Her lips twitched at and while the children began to work again with a bit more conviction she dropped the book in Llyvi’s lap. Do you always teach the class or just today? Are you making your own piece? What shape will you pick for the children or did you have something else in mind for their game? Instead of waiting for Llyvi to answer, Sosicly peered over his shoulder and poked at his work with one long nail. It was a simple piece but had the potential to go farther. Curiously she looked sideways at Llyvi and cocked her head. Something about his expression poked at her mind, and again she thought of darts. Trying not to dwell on it she gestured to the children, then at Llyvi and finally at her cheeks where she held a bright smile, trying to silently inquire as to if he actually liked working with the children. Her questions were interrupted though by her own smaller loom being dropped in her lap. Sosicly looked up startled, a brief flit of irritation crossing her face before she recognized the figure above her and gave a mostly insincere apologetic look. Elyna looked unimpressed and spoke briskly over her shoulder as she walked away, “If you’ve time to talk, you’ve time to work.” Sosicly picked up her own loom. It was the same simple pattern the children were using but on top of the loom was a small metal tin that she opened with a put upon huff. Inside the tin were relatively small gems with holes piercing them and turning them into beads. Proudly she held one up to Llyvi for him to look at then pointed to herself, indicating she had made the bead.

[Llyvi]

The laugh that escaped him was coloured fourteen different shades of genteel. Sosicly seemed to be filled with curiosity; it was refreshing, considering her predicament. “I’m a new teacher, and this will be my first lesson. Also, I’m making a piece demonstrating the pattern I want them to learn today.” He glanced at his own piece. Satisfied that it was correct (although it was a little bland—he admitted this to himself), he leaned closer to Sosicly. “I actually don’t know what I’m doing with this game. Would you like to choose the shape?” Also, she seemed to like smiling a lot. Llyvi smiled back, the silent cue flying over his head. He looked back toward the children, who stared at him. “Have you guys found anything?” The little girl—Llyvi recalled the name Avelina from the depths of his mind—nodded her head before looking down at her hands, wrested into her lap. This was the one he liked the most, out of the three. The other boy, Dyval, stared at him with hollowed-eyes, and Tell replied with a curt, “No.” The little liar. When he looked back, Sosicly had somehow managed to materialize a loom and was beaming at him with a bead in hand. He reflected her ebullient expression with his own, but he didn’t know why he was smiling. He crawled over to where Avelina sat, and, bringing her loom to his lap, patted the floor beside him. “Can you show me?” he asked in a voice that was equal parts cloying and low. He looked at Sosicly, and jerked his head at Tell, who had adopted the air of a prince. He knew Sosicly had work to do as well, and he was sorry for it, but he also didn’t know how to handle Tell—which is to say, he was afraid of falling on him and cutting himself.

[Sosicly Magnolia]

Llyvi didn't praise her for her work and she pouted a bit but recovered quickly, always eager to avoid her assignments. And Tell reminded her a bit of herself when she was his age and even know she frequently ignored mistakes in her personal work. Quickly writing down her desired shape Sosicly moved towards the boy but he shied away from her. Completely ignoring the gesture she jerked it out of his hands. Practice made he spot the obvious mistakes at once but there were other smaller errors that took more focus. Tell watched her mulishly and she raised an elegant eyebrow in response then without looking pointed to one mistake. His eyes narrowed in response. "It's nothing." Sosicly's shoulders shook with silent laughter while she grabbed her book and wrote tartly, You are prideful. It is admirable. He puffed up until she held up a finger and continued writing. But can you be proud of this? It is shoddy at best. And not only that but you will lose to the others and be forced to learn from then. You should win. "You just want me to play your stupid game." The woman looked at the child in disbelief and shook her head with a shrug. Llyvi seemed to have the other children under control and Sosicly returned to her work without so much as another glance in Tells' direction. The child could do as he liked but a moment later Tell was over her shoulder, watching her intently to see if she slipped up. "You're slow." Sosicly's look at his work then Tell spoke in volumes and he flushed before grabbing his own work and glaring at it. With a huff Sosicly wrote sharply on the notebook, crept over to see what general shape the mistakes made, stole it once more and undid nearly half his work. Again Ignoring the childs frustratiom Sosicly tapped Llyvis shoulder and cocked her head to silently ask if he was finished.

[Llyvi]

“Here, look—see?” He pointed at a point where the weft went over two warps. The mistake, however, was near the top of Avelina’s work, because, unlike Tell, she was a slow worker. She seemed to have the opposite problem—instead of blazing ahead, she drifted behind idly. Llyvi turned around when Sosicly tapped him on the shoulder, turned to a reddened Avelina and prodded her on with a slight toss of the chin, and turned back Sosicly. “Yes?” he asked, and then looked over her shoulder, watching Tell glare at his loom—sulking at his rushed weaving pattern and at his dreary life, no doubt. His furrowed brows were adamant. Llyvi’s lips made a silent O. It seemed that he’d put the world on Sosicly’s shoulders. “Was he any trouble?” he whispered, words slithering out from between his teeth in a sort of soothing hiss. “I’m sorry—I’ll work with him. Avelina’s a dear, but I’m not sure about the last one.” There was something about Dyval that put Llyvi on edge. Not in the same way that Tell grated on his raw nerves—this one, with black bags under his eyes that looked profound against his snow white pallor, was a different kind of unnerving. Like a sleepy predator laying eyes on meat. Avelina was engaged in an uneasy, one-sided conversation with the boy, who nodded absently. Occasionally, the corners of his lips would twitch, but Llyvi wasn’t sure it was from the threat of a smile. As he crawled over to where Tell sat, Llyvi realized that he was pushing a lot of his own work onto Sosicly, and he made an irritable face—he really didn’t mean to, and he vowed to make it up to her later. Tell barely acknowledged him, his hands angry as they jerked the weft over and under the warp. “Um, Tell?” The question was hardly imperative. Llyvi cleared his throat, a little loud. “Tell? You’re going too fast.” “What?” “Tell, wait—look here!” Llyvi, in the heat of the moment, went for Tell’s wrist, but hesitated, and instead settled for grabbing the frame of the small loom itself. It made Tell lift his chin slightly. “Yes?” he asked, voice charged with vitriol. Llyvi heaved a sigh, sounding like somebody had whacked him in the chest. “You’re going too fast.” He said this in the all-condescending voice of a typical teacher—he really didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help it when he watched Tell’s incompetence—and Tell’s nostrils flared. “You can’t tell me what to do,” he said. And then he wrested the loom away from Llyvi’s grasp, and continued to yank at the string, muttering something that Llyvi couldn’t quite make out, but the tone was clear: leave me alone, or I’ll bite you. Llyvi was left to sit there, a little awkwardly, and watch him pour out his emotions onto his plain weave. OOCI should probably tell you that they're using those cute little looms that you can sit in your lap. Also, you can do what you please with Dyval!

[Edreina]

Hey Players!

I know that it has been quite some time but if either of you return to play, please update your ledgers with seasonal expenses and then contact me so that I can grade this thread for you.

~Please be sure to edit your grade request!~