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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]
69th of Winter 513AV The Symenestra worked at a slow pace. She was exhausted, the lack of food and water along with the low moral of Wind Reach had all taken it's toll on her. Her gangling frame was now more of a skeleton with skin. Her deep purple eyes had lost their sparkle and large bags hung underneath them.
Drusilla sighed, she was starving in the literal sense. She couldn't eat half of the food when it was plentiful and now well... She had been using her grain tokens to get stale bread which she smuggled to her room, where she had been baiting a family of mice. The discovery of the mice to most would of been horrifying, but to Drusilla it was a welcome chance at some food. Thus she began to coddle them until they were a bit plumper. So far things were going well.
Today though, she was working. It was a pleasant change, and a good chance to distract herself from her hunger. She moved to her next task, hemming a few pair of pants. "5cm, eh?" Drusilla mumbled finding the right color thread to match each pair of pants and her tape measure. Measuring the hem Dru pinned the pants' cuffs and threaded her needle. It was a tedious process, Drusilla knew that in bigger cities with better access had sewing 'machines' all you did to power it was tap your foot on the pedal. It sounded too good to be true. Drusilla worked by hand, but her stitches were clean and straight.
Moving at a snail's pace she hemmed one leg of the pants and after a short rest moved to the other leg. Drusilla was happy to be in the Gallery even if it was freezing. With the lack of food people had starting turning on each other, foreigners especially. It was good to stay out of sight, not that she didn't already try and stay out of sight. But, if things went south as she believed they were she would need to find safety somewhere.
Finishing the other leg of the pants she gave a little tug at it, testing it's hold and fixing it if needed. When she was satisfied it would hold well for the wearer she moved on to the next pair of pants. These most certainly belonged to one of the hunters no doubt. An Avora perhaps; as an Endal would have had pants of a different quality. You could learn a lot about who owned the clothes if you studied them carefully. Drusilla dug through her sewing box for a better match of thread for these pants. She could of gotten up at found some in the gallery, but her box was closer. "Honestly a dozen pants same pattern same cut all in slightly different shades of brown..." She tried to think of a logical reason for the slightly different pants, but thinking required energy and she had none to spare on such a silly thought.
She pressed on, moving to some torn leather gear. Leather was a bit more chalenging to work with and needed stronger thread. Simple cotton thread would just rot away. With a sigh Drusilla got to her feet she didn't have any nylon thread. Let alone any that was waxed. Serching though the stocked thread she finally found a few spools of what she had been looking for, she moved on to find a better needle to handle the thicker and stronger thread.
Supplies in hand she returned to her current project. Threading the needle her mind began to wander to a series on topics, first where could she find safe haven. Something big was coming, people were talking riots. Drusilla found herself stuck, if they came after her and she fought back no doubt she would be punished for her self defense. If she went peacefully who knew what would happen to her. "Tch!" Drusilla quickly stuck her finger in her mouth, she had pricked herself pretty good. She could taste blood from her finger. After nursing her finger for a bit, Dru returned to her sewing. The leather put up more of a fight than she thought it would and she took care not to prick herself again. Making her stitches with great care and grace she finish the needed leather work. Making some mental notes on how to improve on her leather sewing. Perhaps when things got better she could buy a small amount of leather to practice her stitches. Giving her work a final once over, Drusilla folded the clothes and moved on.
Suddenly Drusilla remembered a place that a dek had spoke of the Bronaugh Den. A dek hideout. Drusilla had always showed compassion to the poor people, sneaking them food, giving them safe haven in her quarters, and defending them whenever it was needed. It was beyond the gate though. She'd be able to get out. It'd be cold, but she could do it. She had a plan now.
Yes, she had gained a good reputation with the deks. They would certainly harbor her. She'd help as much as she could. She knew the Bronaugh Den was a cave, a mini Kalinor in her mind. Without the silk roads and other Symenestra. She'd do fine there.
Returning to the work orders Drusilla decided that while she had the leather repair items out she'd finish up with all of the leather work orders. Of course there were loads of them. A good number of which were pants. Looking through the pants she found a pair that had the seat of the pants ripped the entire length. She managed a laugh, thinking of what their owner had been doing to rip them that bad. Shaking her head she threaded her needle with an ample amount of thread. Looking over the pants Drusilla found her starting point and began to sew.
These pants were well worn and had a certain softness to them. It made sewing them much easier than the previous leather work. She took extra care in sewing the pants, even doubling over a second time. She looked over the pants to see if her stitches were visible... No, they were good for the most part. She fixed some minor issues here and there. She gave a tug at the newly stitched seam seeing it's hold. Once satisfied with the hold of the seam, Drusilla folded the pants and moved on to another pair.
Luckily none of the other pants had tears as bad as the last. Most just had seam issues along the pant legs or a torn pocket, along with a few that had holes around the knee area. However a broken belt loop wasn't that uncommon either.
All of these were minor fixes that Drusilla really didn't mind doing. There were times when the Avora would leave the hardest fixes and most delicate fabrics all for her to mend. She'd have to take the work home with her and get to work early all for one of the Avora to take all the credit. It was irritating, with their taunts claiming that because she was a Symenestra she would do a better job. She hated their snarky tones. What had she done to them? Nothing, nothing at all. She kept her head down and her nose to the grindstone.
Perhaps their actions stirred up memories from her childhood, however back then sewing and loom weaving had gotten her away from whom she feared. The Weft and Warp school had been her haven, when her father wasn't at home to keep her safe from her. She was so sly about the abuse, always when she knew that her husband was gone. Drusilla made it a habit of leaving for school even before her father left. A stirred memory bubbled to the surface and Drusilla remembered being slapped across the face. She had hidden in a vacant house for a few days until the swelling was gone. Heck, for all she cared those Avora could go ahead and kill each other off in these riots and food fights.
Drusilla's thoughts turned to Turrin hoping he would be alright through this mess. She laughed. He was part Myrian, he'd be fine. She reassured herself. How could she not worry, he was her brother. Kinda she wasn't too sure what they were right now, awkward was a fitting word for it. But it was getting better. She had been the cause of that. How dense could she have been? But Turrin hadn't taken things like she thought he would.
"Gah!" She had pricked herself again, not as bad as last time though, but man it hurt! She had to stop thinking so much and focus on what she was doing, if she didn't her hands would end up looking like pin cushions. Drusilla sighed and cleared her mind. Focus, focus, focus! She chided herself mentally. Maybe she just needed a good stretch, she needed to fetch more thread anyway. Getting to her feet Drusilla took a moment to stretch her arms above her head and intertwining them. With a yawn she made her way to the thread. She rooted through the massive amount of thread. She grumbled to herself for no real reason. Until she realized she had been searching through the wrong drawer of thread. Then her grumbles were turn to the fact she was so off today.
She turned back to the thoughts of hiding. What if they were expecting her to jump the wall? Climbing surfaces was her forte. Perhaps, maybe, yes it was a big enough place. Yes it would work. It HAD to.
She opened the correct drawer this time and grabbed two spools of the waxed thread she turned to leave and then on second thought she turned around and grabbed another spool and closed the drawer and made her way back to the stack of leather items waiting for their fixes.
Next to be done was another pair of pants that had prematurely frayed at the side seams. Drusilla cut the thread that had come loose from the fabric, before replacing them. Looking at the small bits of threads she had cut she began to wonder if someone had used cotton thread on them. If so, she'd be seeing these pants again. Drusilla took a peek through the pile of pants to see if there were any other pairs like this one she had just fixed. Yeah, somebody had been stitching leather with cotton thread. "Who on earth was sewing these with cotton thread?!" Some poor soul was going to need to buy new pants and lots of them come spring.
This spring... Would she make it to see, spring? Or had the Symenestra seen her last? Drusilla sighed. It was hard thinking about one's own death, even worse if that death was starvation.
Seeing no end in sight with all the sewing work or the conditions here in Wind Reach, she wanted to cry and give up. Instead, she turned to song. A sad lament sang in Symenos. The exotic tongue echoed throughout the Gallery. A sad, crawling, and creepy sound, sung with all her heart as she sewed. It helped somewhat or maybe she just told herself that. As abruptly as she had started singing Drusilla stopped.
Drusilla always felt an affinity with fall. She loved everything about fall and she looked forward to it. But now, nothing would COULD compete with spring. Plants would grow and animals would come out of their burrows. A rabbit would be a welcomed meal. After living off mice and rats anything would be a welcomed meal! Maybe she'd take up gardening if she lived to see spring. In her mind she made a list of things she'd do if she lived to see spring."I could learn to cook. Although not like the Inarta would like my kinds food. Maybe make some candles. Or study the stars learn to tell fortunes from them... Of course I'll polish my sewing. Maybe start a clothing line. Or a line of dresses."
Drusilla continued sewing the pants and other worn items. She was becoming please with her pile of fixes.
Value of Building Community Relationships How to Bait Mice Matching Thread to Fabric Measuring a Hem Clothes Reveal Caste Leather Needs Thick Thread Knees and Belts Break First Distracted Sewing is Dangerous
Please don't be afraid to PM me with any questions ^-^ and please don't forget to edit your grading request to "graded".
by Drusilla on February 5th, 2014, 2:38 pm 
