Closed Needles and Threads

[Alea Davenport]

29th Winter, 513

Alea was starting to think that everyone in the Nitrozian house considered themselves better than her. First there was the fact that all the official members of the family could have their clothes taken to a tailor to be mended, or just outright replaced when they developed holes, but Alea's clothing did not receive the same treatment. Apparently her habit of running, falling down, getting into scuffles, and otherwise treating her clothes as something more durable than delicate butterflies, made her unqualified to have her clothes repaired. Valerius said let this be a lesson to her, maybe it would teach her not to tear her clothes up so much. Tuuli, his other slave, said that she should keep the holes since she liked them so much. (Alea tried to point out the difference between enjoying rough activities and preferring holes in her clothes, but Tuuli was uninterested.)

Long story short, if Alea wanted her clothes mended, she was going to have to do it herself. She tried asking to borrow one of the other slave's sewing kits, since she did not have one of her own, and despite her relationship to Valerius being much like her relationship to her parents, she did not get an allowance with which she could buy one. Unfortunately, she seemed to have developed some sort of undesirable reputation among the other Nitrozian slaves. Among the words and phrases tossed in her direction were "dirty", "street rat", "low born", and several others, none of which explained to Alea why they were so unfriendly. Tuuli in particular seemed concerned that if she lent Alea any sewing supplies, Alea would promptly lose them. Alea found this quite unfair, and said so, but Tuuli would not change her mind.

Alea has no choice really. She waited until Valerius called for Tuuli (which he did much more often than he called for Alea), and then snuck into Tuuli's room. She stepped carefully, not wanting to leave any evidence that she'd been here. Careful to disturb as little as possible, she began going through Tuuli's things, looking for a needle and thread. Finally, she found some inside a little box. She took one needle and a spool of thread, and closed the box, putting the box back exactly where she'd found it. Tuuli never even had to know they were missing.

Clutching her ill-gotten gains tightly in the palm of her hand so she wouldn't accidentally drop the small objects, she returned to her own quarters and gathered up her few articles of clothing, most of which had holes in the joints. She put them in the basket she usually took when Valerius sent her shopping. It had occurred to her that she didn't want to get caught sewing in the Nitrozian house when she'd made it clear she did not own a needle and thread; that might lead to uncomfortable questions.

She decided fresh air would do her some good, and so she took her basket toward the center of the city (the Docks, she decided, were too noisy for this sort of work, not to mention certain other reasons she was avoiding them lately). She found herself in the temple courtyard, and decided to find a nice, quiet corner as far as possible from any sort of bustle or activity (she didn't want to get in anyone's way).

Examining her borrowed needle and thread, she tried to work out how she was supposed to attach the thread to the needle. The hole in the needle looked impossibly small, and try as she might, she could not make the thread go in. Frustratingly, she had little choice but to keep trying.

[Piraen Saneka]

Day such-and-such: excitement has subsided, boredom has set in. Appears to be a terminal case, so be sure to write to all friends soon. Piraen groaned as he sat reversed in the only chair in his apartment. "Oh, right," His voice held a sarcastic tone, easily showcasing his frustration with the current situation. "I have no friends." Pi leaned forward in the chair, pushing the back against the wall as he put his head to the glass of the lonely window in front of him. The muscles in his face morphed into bizarre shapes as they squished against the glass. Another groan squeezed its way out, bouncing off the window glued to the man's face and shooting off to echo in the silent room. "Someone kill me, please." It had been almost a year since he had moved to Ravok, but what did the kelvic have to show for it? His job? Lackluster. His social life? Even less impressive. His home? Just the thought of the dingy closet was enough the roll Piraen's eyes. The small apartment wasn't even close to being enough room for the bird of prey. Every day he awoke cooped up in that "apartment," Pi's yearning grew exponentially for the times when he could just swoop into any high place and rest. Unfortunately, humans do not shapeshift and sleep in trees. Thus, Piraen did not shapeshift and sleep in trees. At least, not if he wanted to stay in Ravok. "Alright." He smacked both hands onto the back of the chair. "Up." Pi stood, adjusted his vest and pulled out the wrinkles in his sleeves. He quickly gave himself a once over in the mirror, then strode to the door. There was no use causing himself more misery by locking himself in this dingy cage. It was his day off. Might as well make use of it. Pi kicked the door, then rolled his eyes as he pulled it free. The door was stubborn, and, thusly, needed a good kick before it opened each time. He'd been meaning to get it repaired, but he lacked the necessary skills and tools to do so. I'll add it to the ever-growing list. Out on the streets, Ravok was bustling. Passersby shoved about with their usual charm. Oh, how easy it'd be to just soar over them. But, alas, Pi was stuck with his two gangly legs. Pi made himself as small as possible then squeezed into the flow of traffic. It was bizarre. One could settle so tightly into the crowds here that Piraen was sure that someone could just lift up their feet and be carried along. The notion sent shivers down his spine. Too many people packed too closely together...he would never get used this, and he certainly would never enjoy spending his day off in it. Oh, yes, this is great. Great use of time, being herded cattle is. As if on cue, a drunk that was walking beside him tumbled to the ground. The person began to empty the contents of their stomach onto the walkway. Pi shoved away. "O-kay! I'm done. Goodbye crowd, so sad to see you go!" The man pressed both palms against the sky, frantically pushing his way through the crowd. He cleared the footpath, entering into the large courtyard of the temple. "I love this city, I love this city, I love this city..." He chanted to himself as he sat on the outskirts of the square, squeezing both eyes shut as began to rein in his racing heart. "I. Love. This. City."

[Alea Davenport]

Alea, frustrated to the point of hopeless despair by now, was not much in the mood to be forced to listen to the prostrations of yet another die-hard Ravok fanatic. She realized vaguely in the back of her mind that this was the temple, but if he really loved the city so much, couldn't he be excited about it closer to the center? Why did he have to invade her perfectly out-of-the-way space?

"That's great," she snapped irritably. "But would you mind taking your love somewhere else? This is hard enough without you distracting me." Some rational voice in the back of her mind wondered if it was a bad idea to tell someone loving the city to go somewhere other than the temple to express it, but this needle was making her reckless. She'd already stabbed herself several times and she hadn't even gotten it threaded yet!

OOCHope it's not too short, but I can't think of much else to do before you react

[Piraen Saneka]

If there was ever something Piraen was an expert on, it was overreacting. His mother used to call him "Deer Heart," because she was certain that he was truly a Spotted Deer (which, to the extent of her knowledge, was the jumpiest animal in Mizahar) at heart. It didn't matter that he actually shifted into a Kite. To her, he was a deer. Which, in this instance, he might very well have been. His reaction was less than that of a dignified bird of prey and more of that of a dopey-eyed doe. If one pictured a startled deer on a roadway then applied that expression to a man, then one would get a clear image of what Pi looked like upon realizing he wasn't actually alone. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated, searching for the threat. He was glad to be sitting on the ground, otherwise he might've fallen obnoxiously. Instead, his body stiffened and froze. A small one-note squeal slide through his teeth as he further searched for the owner to the voice. "Miss," His words served as an address to his...assailant, yes. However, they were more of a confirmation that it was just a young lady that spoke to him, not a predator. Pi drew in a breath of quasi relief. He let out the air, trying, once again, to relax. "I'd gladly take my love for Ravok elsewhere. Unfortunately, I would have to go through Ravok to do so." He rolled his eyes, scowling back at the streets he had just barely survived. Maybe Ravok isn't the place for me. Turning back to face the courtyard, he sighed. Whether or not he liked it here, he was going to make this work. He was going to be all he could be here. He was going to petching love it here, even if he got killed by some little woman sewing in a corner. Sewing! Piraen grinned. He loved to sew, so much so he was willing to put up with his tedious job at the Vitrax. He hoped that one day he'd have his own shop, and have a larger clientele than any other Mizaharian tailor. Maybe he'd even acquire an apprentice. An apprentice much like this struggling lass, perhaps. "'This'...?" Pi leaned forward, curiosity weaving through his tone. A gentle smile decorated his once-tense face. "Would 'this' be an attempt at sewing?" OOCNot at all! No pressure!

[Alea Davenport]

OOCIn all fairness to Piraen, Alea's bondmate used to call her Huntress

Alea's glare turned positively murderous upon the strange man stating the obvious. When he leaned forward, she brandished the needle like it was a dagger, threatening to poke him if he got too close. She wasn't quite careless enough to trust just anyone who started talking to her in the street. She looked carefully and suspiciously into his face, wondering if he was mocking her. Finally, she decided he probably wasn't, and heaved an exasperated sigh.

"No, it's not sewing, because I can't even get that far!" She wanted to throw down the needle and thread in frustration, but they were not hers, and she did not want to lose them. That would only prove Tuuli right.

But since the man was showing an apparently genuine interest, and complaining to him wouldn't make this go any slower than she had been before, she decided to explain a little more about what was going wrong. "There's this hole in the needle, which you'd think the thread would go through, but the thread doesn't fit." To demonstrate, she pushed the end of the thread against the needle-hole, and watched in dismay as once again the fibers of the thread caught against the metal edges of the hole and spread apart instead of going through. "I guess I could try tying the thread around the needle, but I think it would probably slip off."

She sat back in a slump, resting her head against the wall behind her and closing her eyes. Should she just give up? Resign herself to holey clothes for the rest of her days?

[Piraen Saneka]

The smile from Pi's face sunk, showing his discontent with the lady's reaction to his presence. How is it possible for someone to be so...erratic? One moment she's focused on a chore, and then the next she's threatening strangers with hand-needles! In a matter of just a few minutes, this woman had displayed more degrees of negativity than Piraen even knew existed. Not only had this stranger exhibited such angry spasmodicism, but she had been none too prudent about it either! Now, Pi could understand one being over-excitable; he was in no place to judge when it came to that. He could understand, though that understanding was very slight, her reaction as well. He even understand the need to make your presence known and unique. What he could not understand was how she found it appropriate to do so in such a rude manner and in public--on sacred grounds, no less! Pi raised an eyebrow in judgment, innerly upset at her lack of consideration for her surroundings and taste. "I did say 'attempt at'..." He remarked, slightly annoyed by her tone now. Half-standing, Piraen resituated himself in front of the woman. He balanced himself so that he was sitting the same way a frog might. Reaching out his left hand, palm-up, he said: "I'm a tailor. Let me help?" Though annoyed, Pi empathized with this stranger. It had taken him ages to figure out how to effectively thread a needle and, even after that, it still took some time. After a while, he come to the conclusion that thread was actually a magical fairy-snake whose sole purpose in life was to cause sewers to mentally break down. If someone tried to dispute this theory, Pi would simply hand them some thread and a needle, as they clearly had never tried to thread a needle and, thus, deserved to be deranged. OOC*backs up a bit* That's a little unnerving. Please don't kill him. xD

[Alea Davenport]

Alea eyed the man suspiciously. A tailor just happened to show up just as she was trying to sew? Still, she was at the point of giving up. What did she have to lose by letting him try? Other than the needle, but who could say if Tuuli would even notice it missing, and besides, she had no proof Alea took it. Reluctantly, she handed the needle and thread to the man. She then leaned back against the pillar, but she kept her eyes on his hands, wondering just what trickery he would use to bind the fraying ends of the thread together long enough to get through the hole.

After a few ticks, she realized that her hostility was probably unwarranted, and largely a result of her bad mood. Feeling slightly bad at this point, she tried to figure out how to start over and give him a better impression of her. In a more casual tone, she said, "I'm Alea, by the way." She drew up her knees and hooked her hands around them, her nigh-forgotten half-sun tattoo plainly visible.

[Piraen Saneka]

Piraen lightly smirked at her hesitation. If anything, he should be the reluctant one. She had, after all, been what some might call an Aggressive Ana, a Negative Nancy, quite a Deb-Downer...none of which were values that Pi held in too high of regards. Nevertheless, he took the materials from her and nodded, significantly glad that she hadn't stabbed him (or, at the very least, had yet to stab him). A big grin spread across his face as he rolled the needle between his fingers. It had been some time since he held a needle that was in good condition: his own were becoming dull, and the ones provided to him at work were so rusted that they looked more like wet splinters of wood than needles. This needle, however, was in great condition. Holding the sliver of metal made him giddy. "First off, it's easier if you hold it against something white." He said, still smiling like a child. Lifting his arm, he held the needle against the white sleeve. He allowed her a few seconds to look over. Afterwards, he raised his left hand to his mouth. "And the reason the thread is splitting is because it's not stiff enough. You have to lick it." Piraen went to put the thread in his mouth, but hesitated for a moment. Shrugging, he gave a goofy half-grin of apology...just in case she was made squeamish by the idea, that is. "Sorry." Though uneager to upset her again, Pi didn't wait for her response. The thread was pushed into his mouth, then pulled back out between his lips. A short, airy snort-of-a-laugh as she introduced herself. "Here I thought you were Krysus reincarnated." His eyes flickered up towards her for a moment to measure her reaction. It wasn't intended to be an insult, though, in hindsight, Pi realized it might've came out offensively. He cleared his throat, quick to recover. "What a relief, though." Or attempt to, at least. "Alea, pretty name. I'm Piraen." He bowed his head. Smooth as a burlap sack on gravel. Pi promptly returned to the task at hand. He quietly cursed his way through two failed attempts, finally threading the needle on his third try. "Here we are..." He lifted the needle and thread triumphantly. There was always a sense of accomplishment that came with threading a needle without stabbing oneself. Some men find glory in battle, Pi found it in the simple things: catching a fish, threading needles, putting his shoes on the correct feet in the morning... Piraen leaned forward once more. Using his right hand to balance on his knee, the man extended his left arm to offer the items to Alea.

[Alea Davenport]

Upon hearing the name, Alea immediately asked, "Who's Krysus?" From the sound of it, it was either an important name, in which case she should know about it, or it was someone he knew personally, which would lead her to know more about him. And she found herself wanting to know more about the man who would help a complete stranger with such a supposedly simple task. She had watched eagerly as Piraen expertly (or, well, competently) threaded the needle. When he handed it back to her, she listened to his answer while she immediately un-threaded the needle so she could try it herself.

First, she held the needle against the background of the temple and poke at it with the thread the way she had been doing before. Now that she knew what to look for, she noticed how hard it was to tell whether the thread was in front of the needle or behind it, making it almost impossible to adjust to get it right where it needed to be. Curious to test Piraen's advice, she next held them both over her white Nitrozian slave's attire. Somehow, it was now much easier to distinguish the difference in color between the needle and the thread, and she was able to navigate them into position.

Of course, by this point, she'd been mushing the thread into the side of the needle without getting it through so much that the thread was beginning to fray again. Not willing to give up until she'd exhausted all of her new knowledge, she put the end of the thread between her lips, which she pressed together as she pulled the thread back through them. Satisfied at the tapered point the end of the thread now formed, she held it against her skirt and finally, finally threaded her first needle.

She grinned triumphantly at her new tutor, all hostility forgotten. Eager to move on to the next step, she grabbed the first article from the basket; a sock with a hole worn into the heel. She immediately stuck the needle into the sock, but then she hesitated. She could haphazardly try to close the hole however she could think of, or... she could ask an expert. Grinning shyly she glanced a question at Piraen through her eyelashes and held the sock and needle to him.

[Piraen Saneka]

Piraen shrugged nonchalantly at her question. "Angsty goddess of murder and pain." Yes I just compared you to controversial Goddess who defied Rhysol himself. I'm not rude, though. I swear by it. A flash from a few moments before cracked through his frontal lobes. If she had raised that needle to him once when he was just offering his help and company, what would her response be towards an unintentional insult? One could never be too sure. So as to cover himself and prevent from a repetition of the past, Pi shrugged once more. "No offense intended. It was just that the entire ready-for-a-brawl needle brandishing was slightly intimidating." He watched her as she puzzled her way through the process he'd shown her. It was always intriguing for Pi when he watched people stumble through what he had once stumbled through. He got to take a trip to his past and watch himself in Alea: the shaky hands, the pensive stare of concentration, right down to the annoyingly familiar persistence...it was all there. All, of course, but a sly mother guiding the student's hands. Though now that he looked back on it, his mother probably caused more problems when it came to the sewing learning process. Like that one time where, under his mother's controlling gaze and guidance, he had accidentally sewn the sleeves onto the bottom of his shirt rather than where they were supposed to be. Or that other time when his mother told him it was fine to leave his hand opposite the needle as he sloppily punched through the shirt, so long as he was careful not move his hand too quickly (unfortunately she hadn't specified exactly which hand, causing many stabbing mishaps with too few bandages). Piraen was about to speak up and advise that Alea use extreme caution while poking through the fabric when she waved the sock in her direction. Pi shook his head. "No thank you, I have two al--" Click. Pi rolled his eyes, annoyed with his own slowness. "Oh. I see." He reached out, taking the items from her once again. He spoke slowly as he examined the aperture in the sock. His voice was long, drawing out the words so that they now took up twice the amount of time they would've if he spoke in a normal tone. "Slow day, really. I'm not normally this foolish." The slower tone wasn't for added effect or humor (though, in hindsight, he figured it was an added bonus). Instead, it was a reflection of his ponderings: Could he patch this hole with the thin thread Alea had brought? As his voice dragged on, his words morphed from audible words to a pensive monotone hum. The sock was tossed back and forth through his hands as his lanky fingers examined the worn patch. The hole itself wasn't too expansive. That wasn't the problem. The issue at hand was the area around the hole. It was dingy, which Piraen was used to, but it was also thin enough to see through. Pi twisted his head sideways and tucked his chin into his neck, nearly flipping his head upside down as he pulled the article closer to his face. He knew that when in this form that his eyes could move in their sockets, but he had grown so used to not being able to move them when in his bestial from that it had become a nasty habit of his. Sometimes, though, he wondered if looking out the top of his eyes really improved his human eyesight like it did to his raptor's. Probably not. He was probably just weird in that respect. "I don't think this'll work." He lifted his head up to look at Alea. He turned the sock towards her, frowning as his finger circled the small void. "The part around the hole is too worn. If we try to use this thread, it'll slip out or make the hole bigger." Dropping his hands into his lap sadly, Pi racked his bird brain for solutions. He thought about how one might get rid of a hole in the ground. Fill it in? He shook his head. Plant a tree in it? That wouldn't work for obvious reasons. Fence around it? A sturgeon grin came across his face. "Alright, I've got it. We can't use thread, but we can use yarn." Pi lifted himself off of the ground. He stuck the needle into the sock before stuffing the whole thing into his left jacket pocket. He offered a hand to Alea. "To the market!"