Closed [NHC] Mending the Social Inequality... Not Really [Alea]

[Xii]

31st of Spring, 515 AV morning Apparently, for the true citizens of Ravok, there were many things that came free. Xii had been slowly learning this over the past third-Season. At first, she had been disgusted by the mewling masses, with all their typical 'getting along' and none of the chaos she had been promised. Rules. She had been affronted that here, in the city of the god of evil, they were expected to follows rules, and even more so that everybody actually did. But the young girl sort of saw now why the citizens were like this. Maybe it wasn't their fault. Maybe they were just so coddled they couldn't see the truth. Maybe they'd allowed themselves to become stupid. Passive. It was because of all the stuff. All the rules. The rules protected citizens while ignoring non-citizens. This gave the true people of the city an advantage. It kept them feeling safe and secure. It ensured that the Black Sun would always be behind them, as long as they themselves 'did what was right' and didn't get into too much trouble. It made them feel entitled... and perhaps even close to Rhysol because of it. The free stuff added in. Free healthcare for those who were sick or old or injured. Freedom from the threat of slavery, again making them feel safe. And now, Xii saw, there were other perks. Like, for instance, the free sewing that residents of the Nitrozian Housing Commission were privy to. Nitrozian. That was another thing... live in the right place or have the right name, and you got even more stuff. And that made you feel even better about yourself. It was a bit annoying, all of it. But it made sense. In a dumb sort of way. The more Xii looked at the citizens of Ravok, the more she understood what they were. Perhaps what all humans were. Cattle or slaves. Things to be used or played with or eaten. She wondered if Rhysol felt the same way. Xii was bored of playing by the rules, and she had gotten into a bit of a problem because of it. The last 'playtime' she had ended up in a tiff with another of the children in the city. Well... two of them. They had both been boys, and had both been bigger than her, older. Stronger. They hadn't liked her ordering them around, she had been off her game at hypnotism, and one of them had grabbed her by the front of the shirt. Xii'd hit him in the face, and got hit herself by the other ~which had left a sizable bruise swelling her bottom lip. The Zithling had unthinkingly wrenched away before things could get out of hand... and in the process her shirt had ripped at the collar, all the way to her sleeve, exposing her shoulder and part of the ugly old scar that disfigured her stomach and chest. She'd been able to run, then, with them calling mockingly after her. For that, she was certain that somehow they would both pay... but in the meantime she had torn up her only shirt, and she was adverse to buying another. Which brought her to the NHC. She'd asked at a doorstep somewhere for a person who might sew her shirt, and though the person had been reluctant to help her, she had eventually given directions. Probably because Xii had hinted that she ~as a patron of the NHC, which she actually was not~ might lodge a complaint to the offices about unruly and unhelpful neighbors ~which, of course, she wouldn't, though it might be fun. Now she came to the doorway she had been pointed at, lingering there and touching a hand to her sore lip before knocking, sharply, three times. "Hello?" she called, standing as far back from the door as she could and out of reach in case someone dangerous might be waiting on the other side. She wouldn't have put it past her 'helper' to give her directions to the wrong place. "I'm here for some sewing." She tapped her foot as she waited, crossing her arms and generally sending out the impatient vibe. Once someone answered, depending who it was, she would shift posture accordingly. oocWow, sorry, that was longer than I expected it to be.

[Alea Davenport]

Alea rushed to open the door before the old harpy could yell at her. To her surprise, she vaguely recognized the dark young girl who stood there. "Oh! It's you!" she said cleverly. For a moment, she wondered if the girl lived in the NHC. Then she wondered if the girl even had parents. Then she decided it didn't matter; Rosemary was getting fidgety with nothing to do but harass Alea. Anything to serve as a distraction would be welcomed by both of them.

Then she noticed the tell-tale brusies and scrapes on the girl. She grinned. "Got into a bit of a scrap did you? Let me guess, I should see the other guy?" She ushered the girl inside with a friendly arm. Rosemary, mercifully was ignoring her at the moment, occupied with her knitting. "So, what do we have today? I know fighting can wreak havoc on the threads," she said with a wink.

The familiar setting of fighting helped her mask her uncertainty at her job. She was no seamstress; until this season she barely knew which was the pointy end of the needle. And yet, she was expected to mend clothing in a way that satisfied the NHC patrons. She supposed if they wanted a professional look, they'd take their clothes to a proper seamstress, and not a random slave the Nitrozians threw in here for Rhysol knew what reason.

Oh dear, she'd been in Ravok too long. She was starting to swear by their god...

OOCSorry for the delay. I hope the post is okay ^^;

[Xii]

oocNo problem. ^_^ Another thing Xii was beginning to learn... once you met someone in Ravok, it seemed you could never get rid of them. At least not for long. This was an example of that. The door swung open, and who might be on the other side but that... one girl, Xii couldn't recall if she'd ever actually learned her name. This one had been at that bar, the second night that Xii had come to the city. The Zithling might have been suspicious of meeting her again here, now, but she brushed off the paranoia. It wasn't like the girl had followed her here, Xii had been the one to approach. And she hadn't seen this girl in a long time. No need to make something out of nothing. The child tried not to make a face when the other bustled her into the room. She couldn't tell if the girl was making fun of her or not by her words on Xii's state, so decided not to be offended, instead projecting an unconcerned, cool air. She shrugged at the question, then sniffed and said, "Other guys, you mean." Xii touched her tongue to her split lip. "This is what I have," she continued, indicating the rip along the shirt she was wearing, the short sleeve split entirely into two along the seam. "I need it fixed." There was a short pause, while she struggled with how much she should say. Eventually, she spat out, "It's the only shirt I have. Do I need to take it off? I'd prefer if I didn't. If you could just sew it back together while it's still on me, that would be best." She'd prepared for the possibility that she might have to remove the clothing by bringing along her little red cloak to cover herself with, but she didn't particularly feel like undressing in front of the others.

[Alea Davenport]

Alea raised an impressed brow. Fighting of multiple opponents was no small feat...assuming the girl wasn't exaggerating, which was likely. But it didn't matter, a fight was a fight, win or lose, and now it was time to clean up the aftermath.

It was a fairly simple job, a straight gash that just needed tied together. Something Rosemary considered a waste of her time, as Alea had found out quickly enough, which meant this was all Alea's job. She walked to the tiny chest that she had been graciously granted to keep her work things in. She retrieved from it a needle and a cheap, off-white thread which would match the color of Xii's shirt better than anything else she had. As she was doing this, she heard Xii's unusual request.

Alea frowned uncertainly. "It will take a lot longer that way..." When no 'never mind' was forthcoming, she added, "but I suppose I can do it that way. It won't look very good though, with the seam on the outside." Somehow, she didn't feel like this urchin would care about looks, but with Rosemary constantly breathing down her neck, she had to at least say something. She recalled sewing another patron's shirt up without turning it inside-out first...ooh, how she'd been reamed for that.

Alea wanted to offer the girl a stool or something to sit on while she waited, but Rosemary kept the place bare of furnishings, not wanting to encourage "loitering", and of course Alea the slave did not merit such comforts for herself. They would just have to stand, while Alea tried desperately not to stab the girl. She measures out a length of thread about twice as long as the gash and cut it from the spool, hoping that would be enough. Then, after threading it through the hole in the needle on the third try, she asked Xii's permission to begin.

[Xii]

As expected, when the other girl mentioned that the shirt wouldn't look good, Xii just shrugged, waving a hand. "It doesn't need to be pretty," she said, unconcerned completely about looks. She had never completely forgiven the idea that she even needed to wear clothes. She'd been forced to since she was young ~something that had grown into a habit, and she now felt naked, exposed without them, which was really stupid~ since she'd been born only half-Zith and thus with a human-sort of skin, devoid of a Zith's usual fur. This was just one of the many things she didn't like to think about, as it was something that separated her from what she considered to be her 'true' race. The idea of wanting to be pretty was silly to her, something for normal, idiotic little girls who had nothing better to do. Being 'pretty' among human cultures meant trying to look pleasing to humans, which was simply despicable. Though such a talent might also be useful, she'd never tried it. Perhaps she could someday, if she was able to stomach the process. When the seamstress girl stepped close to start with the needlework, fumbling with the thread for a moment before getting it right, the Zithling eyed her and then held very still, nodding that it would be okay to work. The proximity made her skin crawl slightly, though it had nothing to do specifically with the other, more that she just never let anyone get this close. It wasn't really very smart. To distract herself, she asked aloud, "Do you think it matters? The shirt not looking good, I mean." She thought she heard the cranky woman mutter some growled something-or-other under her breath, which made the girl smile slightly at having irritated her. "Hmm. Do you yourself care about looking good? I suppose it's important to some people." She was aware she probably sounded dumb, but that didn't really matter to her, either. Making small talk was not something she was used to, as she really didn't care about anyone else, and actively disliked most. oocI hope it's alright that I put in that line about the woman. I'm not certain what sort of NPC she is, a city one or your own. If I shouldn't control her in any way, just tell me and I can edit that out. Also I hope you don't mind small talk.

[Alea Davenport]

OOCI think she's officially a city NPC, but I just wrote her up, so... whatever, I think what you did is fine

Alea hesitated before beginning, trying to gather her thoughts and make sure she knew what she was doing. She was a bit distracted by the girl's question. Before answering she darted a quick, nervous glance toward Rosemary and said in a voice pitched to carry, "Being pretty is very important...because...um...reasons..." It sounded as if she were reciting something, until the bit where she trailed off, which sounded more like she'd forgotten her lines. In an urgent but voiceless whisper, she added, "I have no idea, I don't see the point either but don't tell her that!" Her desperately widening eyes made Alea look a bit like a distressed doe at the moment.

Deciding she'd better get on with it, she gingerly pinched the two sides of cloth together at one end of the gap, and stabbed the needle through it. She then pulled it through, with the thread following behind. As she neared the end of the thread, she slowed, feeling like she'd missed something, but she couldn't remember what it was until the last of the thread pulled all the way through the fabric.

For a moment she cursed and grumbled under her breath with an attitude that rivaled that of Rosemary. Then she calmly took the end of the thread and tied it in a knot several times. That way, it wouldn't come through when she tried to pull the stitches tight. When it was knotted several times into a knot significantly wider than the thread or needle, she took a deep breath and tried again. This time, when she tugged the thread gently through, it stopped at the knot, just as planned.

She paused for a moment to consider her next move. She didn't really know very many types of stitches. Luckily, the "customer" didn't care about looks, so Alea could take this chance to experiment! She pinched the fabric together a little further along, wrapped the thread around and stuck the need through again, from the same direction but just a little bit forward. Pinching the fabric allowed her to bring the sewing area up away from Xii's arm, so as long as the girl didn't move too much, Alea would be able to avoid sticking her with the needle.

[Xii]

"Being pretty is very important...because...um...reasons... I have no idea, I don't see the point either but don't tell her that!" The Zithling laughed, a wicked, low, bubbling sound in her throat. By now ~thanks to the whisper and the laugh~ the old woman was squinting suspiciously over at them. Xii lifted one hand, not the one with the ruined sleeve but the other, and wiggled her fingers at the crone. She thought the woman perhaps looked angry, and that delighted her further. What didn't delight her was when the girl ~it was getting annoying to think of her as 'the girl', but Xii didn't know her name and couldn't be bothered to ask~ lifted her shirt from her shoulder. The feel of the cloth sliding over her skin made an odd sensation that nearly caused her to wiggle, and it was because of this she didn't notice the novice seamstress' mistake with the knot. The other girl picked at her clothes once more, and this time Xii shimmied slightly away, unable to bear the tickling sensation. Unwillingly she felt like laughing at the sensation; she tried to strangle the sound in her chest, but still made a hum and another wiggle when the girl next touched her. It was very difficult to stand still. Also in a whisper, but one that purposefully carried just a little bit too far for comfort, the girl asked, "Why are you afraid of being heard?" She liked picking at people to see why they did what, it helped her figure out how to act towards certain others. She opened her mouth to question further, but her shirt shifted again and she spasmed in place. oocFeel free to jab Xii with the needle, hehe. Who knew she'd be ticklish. I swear I didn't plan it, it just happened. XD

[Alea Davenport]

Alea winced as Xii's question carried. Rosemary snapped, "Quit jabbering, slave! You get paid to work, not fraternize with the customers. You'll give this place a bad reputation..." Her voice grew steadily closer to muttering until it was once again inaudible.

Alea shook her head and heaved her shoulders in a voiceless sigh. At least Rosemary has answered the little girl's question, which was just as well, because it really was difficult to concentrate and talk at the same time. Especially when the girl kept shifting and squirming! Every time Xii's arm moved slightly, Alea flinched, terrified she'd stab the poor girl. She was almost afraid to pierce the cloth, lest she pierce skin as well before the needle poked out the other side where she could see it again. A ghastly image of the shirt sleeve sewn directly into the dark girl's arm flashed through Alea's traumatized brain.

But Xii had specifically asked not to have to remove her shirt. And it was Alea's duty as either a compassionate human being or as a dutiful slave to accommodate that request. And she couldn't stand here flinching forever. She would have to risk it. She pinched fabric, waited for the squirm to pass, and then stabbed the needle through!

Success! The needle appeared cleanly out the other side of the stitch, and no cry of pain from the girl! Emboldened by this success, Alea brought the needle around for another stitch. Pinch, wait, aaaand...stab!

Alea could tell even before the girl made a noise. She could feel the difference as needle poked skin instead of air or cloth. There was more resistance, and a different almost texture that Alea couldn't articulate. She quickly pulled the needle back, well out of poking range. Consternation twisted her face as she whispered, "Sorry!" And than, "Are you sure you don't want to take the shirt off?" It took an extra moment for Alea to regain enough mental composure to consider why Xii wanted to keep the shirt on, despite it being so uncomfortable. "If you're worried about modesty, I can keep my back turned, and the old bat over there is as blind as...well, you know."

She waited anxiously, wondering whether her offer would be accepted, or whether they would pass the afternoon in this nerve-wracking ordeal.

[Xii]

"Quit jabbering, slave! You get paid to work, not fraternize with the customers. You'll give this place a bad reputation..." "She'll only give the place a bad reputation if it is you who speaks of her 'fraternizing', for I shan't tell." Normally Xii wouldn't take a human's side, but it was too interesting to prod at the old woman and see what she might do. It was a fun game to test her, and see how much insolence she might bear for the sake of her 'customer.' The fact that the old lady called the girl a slave was also intriguing, and Xii tilted her head, looking at the other's concentrating ~nervous?~ face as she slowly stitched. Slave... either she hadn't realized it the last time they'd met or she'd simply forgotten. Automatically her eyes darted down to the mark on the girl's hand, and now it made better sense. Before she could think of some way to annoy either of the two about what she'd just learned, her skin tickled again and she wiggled... and as she did a jolt of pain shot through her upper arm and she leapt away from it, the movement so sudden that she almost ripped the stitching and needle right back out of her shirt. Instead of rounding on the slave girl, however, she rounded on the old woman. "There, look what you did! You distracted her with your jabber, and now I could be bleeding! Ouch!" It hadn't really hurt all that bad, but it was easy to make something out of nothing in this situation, and also add insult to injury, though with a bit of a twist on the phrase. Xii turned her face and smiled with her sharp teeth at the slave girl, rolling her eyes, though the smile dimmed at the question, "Are you sure you don't want to take the shirt off?" Reluctance shadowed across her small form, but then she just shrugged and said, "I guess. Just so I won't get poked again." The Zithling shucked her shirt, then pressed the red cloak against her front. She looked down to inspect her shoulder and there wasn't even a mark. Too bad. She could've probably worked it in her advantage, or at least teased the old woman further with it. The edge of her scar showed up over the top of the cloak, two deep lines tearing ugly stripes across her, the third and fourth hidden. "You can speak if you please," Xii said to the slave, "It doesn't really bother me. Not like some." A pointed look was cast towards the angry old seamstress.

[Alea Davenport]

Rosemary's nostrils flared at the insolence of her customer. She was still a respectable citizen of Ravok, and she would not tolerate being spoken to thus. "Get out!" she shrieked. "Get out! Get out!" Again and again she cried, jabbing her knitting needles for emphasis.

Alea was afraid she would lose her chance to practice the skill she was constantly judged by. It wasn't like the old seamstress let her work on anything really important, and since the sewing room was Rosemary's domain, everything was important. So Alea had no scraps of old cloth on which to practice, and the only times she could justify actually sewing was when someone else let her. And it wouldn't take long for someone to demand quality sewing, and Rosemary would refuse to do it, and it would fall to Alea, who would be punished for doing only the best she knew how.

This understanding had been with her long enough that she was compelled to plead with the screaming shrew. "Oh, please don't send her away!" she begged over the screaming. "Just let me finish mending this gap at least!" When this entreaty had no effect, Alea tried to think: how could she convince Rosemary? The old woman had no care for Alea's concerns. What did she value? "Think of your reputation!" Alea said at last, desperately. That got the woman to stop screaming at least, though she glared fiercely at Alea and did not look at all inclined to change her mind. Probably because her reputation was what Rosemary had been complaining about only moments ago, Alea realized too late. "I...what I mean is..." she stammered, desperately buying time and trying to force her brain to work. "We're supposed to serve everyone in the NHC, right? So what do you think will happen if we start refusing customers? Something...something bad, right?"

Alea had no idea what she was talking about, but luckily her words set wheels spinning in Rosemary's head, and the old woman's imagination was fed by more experience than Alea's. Finally, Rosemary grumbled, "Hurry up then. And keep quiet!"

Alea assured Rosemary she would do just that. Luckily, the girl had taken off her shirt, and Alea was free to continue her work without fear of stabbing the girl. She hadn't gotten very far, so she removed the two stitched she'd already put in and got ready to start over.

She was slightly distracted by Xii still trying to make conversation. She turned a glare of her own on the girl that almost rivaled Rosemary's. In an undertone, she said, "Look, I appreciate that. Really. But, no offense, you're not the one I have to worry about bothering. You might think this is fun, but there are consequences for me she gets too mad." She paused for a moment to taper the fraying ends of the thread with her mouth, so she could then re-thread the needle.

She concentrated on lining up the edges of the gash, and pushed the needle through once, then brought it back around for a second stitch, before pulling them both tight. There, that was a good start. If she could just keep the stitched small and even, it might not turn out half bad. She glanced back over at the girl and added, "You might not understand consequences now, but if you make trouble for me again, I'll make sure you learn."