Closed Ripped Seams and Chance Encounters [Inia]

[Silarial]

Winter 24, 512 AV It was almost half a bell before sunset. A warm lavender and reddish glow canvassed the sky to the west. It was actually quite a splendid sight that would bring awe to the hearts of men, if only people would take the time to appreciate its beauty. Silarial definitely wasn’t. The young Vantha was ambling around the snowy streets of Avanthal, too focused on formulating new dance ideas to care about her surroundings. One hand absentmindedly fumbled with the string of her ocarina’s pouch, the other supporting her elbow. Her brows creased as every idea that came into mind were either too common or too hard for her current skills. Of course, she needs to maintain variety in her performances as well to keep the patrons happy back at work. Speaking of work, she still had at least two bells before she was needed at the tavern. The young dancer does not take more than a half bell to dress up for her performances. Since that was the case, she still had a bell of free time, taking into account the travel time back to her Hold and towards the Red Diamond. The corner of Silarial’s lips turned up with a smile as the color green crept through her eyes. Yes, a bell is already a lot of time for brainstorming. She continued tugging at the string with her fingers in frustration. With one strong yank in a moment of carelessness, the pouch slipped from her neck and fell with a soft thud on the snow. Silarial instantly grew pale and her eyes flushed a dark blue. Her glass ocarina! What would she do if it broke to pieces? It was the only thing she had left from her biological mother. If she was to destroy it… Oh please no. Silarial crouched down on the ground, her long lace skirt strewn over the snow. She immediately picked up the pouch yet hesitated to open it straightaway. “Ohh… Please don’t be damaged… Please don’t be damaged… Pretty please?” The Vantha opened the pouch cautiously, taking a chary peek inside with one eye before pulling the instrument out of the small leather container. She brought the glass ocarina close to her face, inspecting for cracks it might’ve incurred in the fall.

[Inia Skyglow]

“Cloud-headed” was a phrase that described Inia very often and very accurately. Despite her attempted demeanour of practicality, the girl came off as airy, light, and distractable. Inia's mind was frequently turned away from an important matter by an idle thought or errant desire. Though she was friendly, her floaty, distanced nature made her seem cold and isolated. It couldn't be helped. Inia loved distractions; they made life interesting. On a day quite ordinary enough, she was walking home from a particularly enjoyable afternoon leatherworking. Her work never seemed like work, and today it had seemed rather like play, more so that usual. Inia happily let her thoughts stray to the previous hours, imagining her hands moving over the leather's surfaces, carving and stitching the tanned hides. Her face melted in happiness. She'd never known why such a simple task brought her so much joy. She'd been good with clothes, of course. She'd started repairing her own clothes when she was six years old, though she couldn't remember where she'd seen it done. She'd mucked around with fabric for a few years before she discovered leathers. Sewing them, carving them, just feeling them; leather made her happy. She'd decided to become a leatherworker then, more as a hobby than a job. She'd gotten lucky with it, though, and her beginnings as a seamstress had helped her a lot. Making things that were practical was more lucrative than making things that were pretty, Inia had observed. Her hands began to fidget as she strolled home. She played with a leather scrap, a small one left over from work, stroking the softer of its edges obsessively. She smiled, working it through her fingers, the sensation occupied her mind absolutely. It would seem excusable, then, that her next step placed her foot on the edge of a crouching girl's skirt.

[Silarial]

So far, it seems the glass instrument was undamaged. It definitely never hurts to be sure though. Silarial ran her long fingers across its smooth surface, feeling for flaws it should not bear. She did this over and over until she was sure that her precious thing was unspoiled. Heaving a sigh of relief, she replaced the ocarina inside the leather pouch. She noted with displeasure the broken string that still dangled from her neck. The girl pulled it with a sullen expression on her face. Obviously it was her fault that the innocent piece of string broke, but she could not help but feel frustration at the object in her hand. If it was stronger, it would not have snapped and she would’ve been spared from needless worry. Yes, it was all the string’s fault. Good thing she kept her ocarina inside the leather pouch. The snow helped soften the fall too. If it wasn’t for those factors, the glass piece would be countless shards on the ground by now. The thought made her shudder so she tried to push it away. Luck must be on her side because it kept her treasure safe, and that was what mattered. That was just the beginning, however. It could have been fate. It could have been a mischievous god’s intervention, or maybe it was just plain ill luck on her side. But whatever it was, it decided that was not the end of Silarial’s mishap. At the exact same moment a passing girl stepped on the edge of her skirt, Silarial suddenly stood up. And then there came the loud sound of some kind of fabric being ripped. Silarial’s body stiffened as she tried to absorb what just happened. She felt some kind of resistance on her skirt as she rose to her feet, then the tearing sound followed. Her face fell as the possibility dawned upon her. She gingerly turned her head to look behind the garment, and her face fell even more. The frills lining the hem at the back were ripped out and sagged limply to the ground. Confusion washed over her face as her eyes searched the ground for what was responsible for her clothes’ damage. Ivory white eyes specked with silver fell upon a nearby pair of feet, then to the face of the girl who owned them. She could already piece together what happened. Silarial chewed on her lips as she tried to suppress the burgeoning resentment caused by today’s recurrent misfortunes.

[Inia Skyglow]

Inia's face stretched, showing extreme discomfort. Her eyes darkened, turning almost lime green as she breathed loudly. Having accidentally stepped on a girl's skirt and torn it, Inia almost smiled awkwardly at the now-intently-staring victim of her misstep. She blinked deliberately, closing her eyes for more than a second, then began her profuse apologies. “Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry!!” She shrugged, looking at the skirt. She circled the girl unintentionally as she frowned at the damage. “I'm really sorry. I mean, I'm sincerely apologetic. I'd wager the damage is easily repairable, though! I mean, it's pretty clearly ripped at a seam and not particularly savaged.” She crouched down, staring directly at the rip. “It's a bit wide and pretty wet. The rip, I mean. I'm really sorry! You should dry it out before you get it fixed. I mean, I could fix it for you later, once you change out of it and dry it and such. I'm a leatherworker, not a seamstress, but it's not as if I can't do a simple bit of mending like that. I'll be at work, at Laria's, tomorrow until about this time. I could repair it if you can bring it there any time tomorrow. Free of charge, I promise, since I'm the idiot that broke it. Tore it. I mean, broke it works but it sounds awful. Sorry.” Inia bounced on the balls of her feet as she talked. She raised her eyebrows hopefully as she finished her rambling offer, grinning nervously.

[Silarial]

Silarial ran a hand through her hair and heaved a sigh. The girl was expressing such regret that Silarial almost felt bad for receiving such a reaction. This girl might have stepped on her skirt, but she was an idiot herself for being careless with her clothes in the first place. Not that she didn’t feel like blaming it on the now-profusely-apologizing girl. Doing so, however, would make her feel worse than she did now. She might be terribly upset right now, but she’s never a jerk. And really, what the girl said was probably right. Not that she knows anything about mending clothes or such, but it looked like there was no actual damage to the skirt itself. She should probably just rip out all the flounces now. No one’s bound to notice. It’s just an everyday skirt anyway. She was about to crouch down to rip the dangling fabric when the girl beat her to it, examining the damage intently. Silarial colored a bit at the suddenness of the action. She cleared her throat as she tried to regain her composure. “Wait miss, that’s a bit…” Wait what, did she just say she can fix it? And she’s a leatherworker at Laria’s? Free repair sounds nice, but she does not want to impose on someone she just met. And if she’d wait until tomorrow to have her skirt fixed, she would have to go home with these frills dangling behind her. Silarial smiled and shook her head weakly. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I mean, I really don’t want to bother you at work. And uhh, it’s really hard to get home looking like this… you know.” She gestured at the unsightly flounces and wrinkled her nose. “I was actually thinking I should just rip these out altogether.”

[Inia Skyglow]

Inia smiled slightly as the girl tried to deny her offer, likely out of courtesy. She started to shake her head, almost chuckling. Then, however, the girl made Inia blanch. She stood up suddenly, holding her hands out, fingers extended in front of the girls face, frowning dramatically. “No no no no no! Don't rip your skirt just because of a little tear like that. It'd take me five minutes, I swear. I'd feel awful if I knew I'd ruined something just because I was careless with my foot.” Before the girl could protest, Inia fumbled with one of her pockets. “Just give me a minute,” said Inia, holding a single finger to the girl's lips. Using her free hand, Inia dug into her cloak, seeking something stashed away. She withdrew a few scraps of leather, some patterned, some torn, and most stained, holding them with her teeth, continuing to empty her pocket. “One minute. Maybe ten.” Groaning, she kept searching. Finally, Inia pulled out a long scrap of leather with an odd design half-embroidered into it, still dangling a wrapped lump of white thread. She casually snapped the thread from the leather, crouching again. “If it'll keep you from ripping it, I'll fix it right here. I promise, it'll only take a moment.” Inia pulled a needle from under her shirt, blushing slightly before threading it. Inia didn't notice the girl's expression, still grinning as she stood again. “You might be more comfortable if you sit, though. Less chance I'll skewer a toe that way.”

[Silarial]

The girl showed such distress over her decision that Silarial could not help but blink in amusement. She wanted to argue that she didn’t mind losing the frills; they were just decoration after all. The girl, however, interjected before she could say what was running in her mind. Silarial looked at the finger outstretched to her face, and then at its owner who was busily looking for something hidden under her cloak. Tilting her head a bit to the side, she watched with curiosity as the girl removed various pieces of leather from her pocket. It was actually quite a funny sight. A giggle escaped from her lips as her eyes flushed a light shade of green. Silarial found the girl’s different expressions very amusing. She’s just so lively and unpredictable it’s infectious. Silarial stepped back a bit when the girl crouched to the ground once more, especially after she saw her procure a needle from her shirt. Silarial pursed her lips at the girl, looking at her with disbelief. She still wanted to do this? Really, it’s not necessary! She was about to speak when the girl interrupted her yet again by suddenly standing up. Was this person doing it on purpose, cutting in before she could speak? She didn’t seem like someone who would do something so mean though; her smile seemed genuine and true. Silarial closed her eyes and sighed heavily, raising both her hands in surrender. “Fine, just… just don’t prick me. Please.” Because blood will trickle, and she's too scared to see her own. Silarial surveyed the surroundings, searching for a seat or something similar within close proximity. Her face lit up when her eyes fell onto a wooden bench nearby. She walked towards it, lifting her skirt above the snow. Silarial sat down on the bench and looked at the girl, a small smile gracing her lips. “I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I? My name’s Silarial Snowsong. And you are…?”

[Inia Skyglow]

Inia grinned, almost comically, as the girl surrendered. Finding a bench, the girl sat and smiled at Inia. Crouching before the now-seated girl's skirt, Inia mumbled distractedly as she reached for the detached fringe. The girl had introduced herself, Inia realised. Really, Inia, why don't you just pay attention? She thought, chastising herself. The dark-haired girl had asked Inia's name, too. Groaning at herself, Inia ran her empty left hand over her scalp. “My name's Inia. I'm a Skyglow. Sorry, I didn't catch your name. Distracted, you know. I get that was sometimes, 'specially when I've got a needle in my hands. Everything but the fabric and thread seem to melt away. It's useful when I'm working, of course, but rather annoying in a socia...” Inia trailed off, her face made scarlet in embarrassment. “Rambling, sorry. I do that a lot too. Anyway, I'll sew this up.” Inia started to dive into the fabric, grinning madly as her hands worked. She pricked herself twice, clenching her teeth as she licked the blood from her fingers, wiping them dry on her shirt. Each time, her furious stitching only grew more intense. Smiling, Inia tugged gently at the frill, testing her stitches. It held firmly, to Inia's satisfaction. She stood, her smile seeming to fill her entire face. “There. That's that, all mended. Sorry that had to happen. It's bothersome, isn't it, when things go oddly like that. I should watch where I'm going, that way I won't be repairing any more skirts in the streets. Not that this wasn't fun.” Inia turned, starting to saunter away. She stopped rather suddenly, looking back. “I forgot your name. Well, I didn't hear it, and I told you that, but then I didn't ask for it again. Well, that was rude.” She turned, holding her hand out to the girl, palm up. “Inia Skyglow, at your service, Madame...?”

[Silarial]

Silarial laughed when she found that the girl seemed to say everything that was running inside her mind. But at least she knows the name of this girl who seemed to live her world in a little bubble now. Inia Skyglow. That explains why she can handle herself with a needle well. It even looked like she was... obsessed with it, especially with that wide smile on her face. And the way she pushed the needle into the fabric... it seems kind of manic. Not that she'd tell that to Inia's face though. Inia pricked her fingers twice, and twice Silarial found her body tensing up. Her eyes melted into a dark blue when she saw the seamstress wiped the blood on her shirt. Inia didn't seem to mind though and Silarial found it amazing. This girl must really love what she's doing. In less than fifteen chimes, the seamstress was already done with her work. Silarial couldn't help but grin at the almost comical expression on Inia's face. And sure enough, she was rambling again, seemingly not letting the young dancer talk. She's probably not aware that she's doing it though. Silarial crossed her arms across her chest as the girl started walking away, and laughed when she turned back. Holding Inia's hands and shaking it gently, she smiled warmly. "Silarial of the Snowsong Hold. Don't refer to me as Madame though. I don't sound like one at all." She giggled, finally taking her hand back. Silarial liked this girl. She's just so open about herself and her opinions. Silarial definitely likes nice, honest people. Even if they're a bit weird. No wait, that's mean. Anyway. "Please let me thank you for mending my skirt. I still have time before work anyway. Do you want to eat anywhere? My treat."

[Inia Skyglow]

Inia smiled as the girl, Silarial, took her hand. She kept her good expression, even as Silarial corrected her. Stuffing her needle and thread into her pocket, she kept her brilliant violet eyes on her new acquaintance. When Silarial offered a reward for the repair, however, Inia's expression seemed to fall. She took a sharp breath, raising the corners of her lips forcefully. Looking depressed isn't the way to respond to an offer, after all. Just counter it, and then say something cheerful. Easy, right? “No, please. It was my pleasure to repair your skirt, you don't have to do that. In addition, it's my fault the skirt had needed mending, which inconvenienced you. I mended it, which 'inconvenienced' me,” Inia rambled, gesturing rather wildly as she did. Her eyes seemed to rotate colours in swift succession, from rose to aqua to amber. She ran her hands through her hair, taking a backwards step dramatically. “If you inconvenience yourself by treating me to something, then I'll have to inconvenience myself with something else. And by that point, Silarial, you'll probably want to repay me, thus inconveniencing yourself again, which would start the whole thi-,” Inia stopped herself midsentence, growling. She turned, paced thrice rapidly in a vaguely circular pattern, then turned to face Silarial once again. Taking a deep breath, Inia smiled. “Yes, Madame Silarial,” Inia began, smiling as she stressed a certain word. “I would be honoured to accept a reward for my humblest services.” Inia bowed deeply, giggling. She looked up at Silarial, beaming grandly.