A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Rance » Wed Jan 16, 2013 6:49 pm

She was running out of fabric to do anything but stitch little poque bags. In the mornings, when the Dagger was quiet, she seamed their edges together, worked a twine drawstring through the fabric. When that was done, she held handfuls of them in her fists in the streets of Myrkentown, asking "Two shillings, two shillings!" of passers-by, who occasionally purchased one from her for -- how did she put it -- "A fine place to store smokeleaf, servings of beans, or wooden tops and trinkets for the little ones. Two shillings a piece, thank you, thank you kindly."

But with the cold, she had not ventured out far. At the first moments of dawn, hunters brought corpses of game to the kitchen's back door and tried to pawn it off on the Dagger's prep-cooks. Sometimes they bought them. Sometimes they didn't. Sometimes the corpses were offered freely for reduced tabs or the trade of bowls of stew on credit.

Gloria watched the process for several mornings, offering to seam the waist-ties back on torn aprons for an opportunity to observe the trades. She turned away when the cooks cleaved the hooves off, or split the guts out to get to the leaner meat. The hunters never looked away, though. They watched, and they awaited their payment.

One of the hunters, she knew. Not well, but knew her -- for that was the whole reason to watch in the first place.

When the hunter turned to leave, the seamstress shouldered her way through several of the cooks, down the back stairs, and out the door. She followed the figure until the Dagger was just a black peak on the horizon behind them. Myrkentown was not far; they were in the land between, where it was quiet, where things were serene.

"Menna Niall," the seamstress finally said, throwing her voice. Keeping her distance. Both of her hands, the gloved one and the bare one alike, clutched tightly at her own skirts, ready to grab them up and run if she must. She said again, with insistence. "Niall, it is me. It is Gloria.

"I would like to speak to you," she offered, "even if I must walk with you while you do your tasks. Please. It is a matter of great importance."
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Jirai » Wed Jan 16, 2013 11:21 pm

Niall frequently did not take coin for the game she dropped off at the tavern. Perhaps that would have to change in a few months, if the Governor followed through and removed her from his tab, but for now, that was how things stood.

Spear strapped to her back, empty game back tucked into belt, Niall headed away from the tavern with purpose - she had something yet to do this morning and it was with no small frustration that the scarred girl found herself followed. She said nothing, though, and did not vary her pace until Gloria worked up her nerve to speak. When the seamstress did, the young woman stopped moving.

That would be the only response Gloria got, a small chance to close the distance between the two. Then Niall would start walking again. Gloria could come along or not, and talk or not.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Rance » Thu Jan 17, 2013 12:18 am

The spearwielder did not kill her. That was a good sign. With her breath rattling in her chest and her knees shaking beneath her clothes, she picked up her pace to try to match Niall's furious gait.

"Maybe you think -- maybe you think that I am stupid," the seamstress said. "Because I think that it is obvious that if you wished to kill me, you could. I may stomp your foot, or try to ball a fist, but I think I would be dead in seconds. And while I wish to tell you that what you and Elliot wanted to do to the potion-maker is wrong, I will not start that argument. Not this morning."

She never took to Niall's side, or never came within distance of that fearful spear. Her boots crunched against the frost-crisp ground with two paces for every one of the spearwielder's. Her hands quivered against her clothes, trying not to visibly shake.

"You -- you saw something, when we had words on the porch. You saw something you were not supposed to see," the girl said.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Greets » Thu Jan 17, 2013 1:44 am

Greets was curious. What went on outside the walls of the Inn. That and she missed walking on four legs. She knew Gloria was there in the morning and then left, but where did she go? Greets followed the seamstress. At first by sight and smell, then once she was out of sight of the town and away from people she stripped bare and returned to the shape she was born with.

She stretches, digging her front claws into the ground and then resumes following the girl. From habit and instinct, not guile, she stays as hidden as she can in what foliage and trees are along her path. Once she judges herself to be close enough to the pair, she watches quietly. The words still mostly don’t make sense but she picks up a few. She smells the fear on Gloria. Pondering a moment, she decides she can help.

She lopes out of concealment, her head even with her shoulders, taking long strides, but in no true hurry. The seamstress does not appear to be in any danger. Greets keeps a wary eye on the other woman and her weapon. She knows what that long pointy stick is and knows the thing can hurt. Once she is close enough, she purrs at Gloria, like she would a kit. Her breath rasps out, making a rough and large, one directional purr. The parallel between a house cat’s and hers is there. She butts her head against Gloria’s thigh and sits beside her, watching and just slightly leaning against her. Gloria is safe now.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Jirai » Thu Jan 17, 2013 10:29 am

Niall had told Gloria the other evening that she had no wish to kill the girl. Gloria was the one who insisted on making things difficult. The seamstress spews out a constant stream of words, something that is frequently astounding to Niall, who is a creature of very few words herself. The scarred girl listens, one can assume, though she does not bother to look at Gloria. No, her restless gaze is elsewhere with a faint frown.

"Perhaps you might then tell my why I should not have seen what I saw." She suggests calmly to the younger woman, just before another makes an appearance, and everything changes.

Niall stopped abruptly, whipping forth her spear with the speed of long practice, bringing it forward to stop with the business end aimed directly at the new arrival. In the tattooed girl's gaze there is no anger, none of the murderous rage that Gloria has seen previously. Instead, there is plain hatred, her intense dislike of Catch's housecats multiplied a thousand times. The girl's scarred face - scars that look rather like they were caused by large claws, as it happens - is set, her voice flat and cold.

"If you wish this conversation to continue, it will be without that." One way or another.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Rance » Thu Jan 17, 2013 5:56 pm

"Because if people knew, they might look at me strangely -- rather, more strangely than they already do," she explained. "Because if people knew, they might demand I leave, like they told me to leave Jern--"

She let out a squeal of surprise as she heard the rolling purr, felt the warm nudge of furred head and ear against her leg. As daft as the girl was, so locked into staring upon the spearwielder, she had scarcely noticed the cha'har's approach. She turned her palm outward, a greeting, to quell the fear that leaped into her throat from the presence of the great feline. One did not simple get so used to the presence of a wild cat; the seamstress, more wary than most, might never.

But what startled her more was Niall's shift. From stoic disinterest, to the poised bend of a warrior, spear-point wielded, ready to strike -- and the warning: If you wish this conversation to continue, it will be without that.

"No!" the seamstress shouted, holding one hand high while she tried to wrap a plump arm around the great animal's broad neck, a clutching desire to protect. There was something in Niall's eyes, though -- something that chilled her, from the tips of her ribs to the innermost marrow of her spine. "Niall, she is my friend, she is--"

A turn of her head, interrupting her own words as she said very swiftly to the cha'har: "At'chemso, at'chemso! Arl'la un -- en h'jaluk, oorl ed ad'hol, benn'a benn'a ho'ozk -- ai?"

She trailed her shivering fingers between the cha'har's soft ears, and then stepped forward, putting herself between Niall's direct sight of the beast.

"She is not here to frighten you," the seamstress said. "I believe she has come to ensure my well-being; I have asked her to watch from a distance." A pause, before she tilted her chin up and watched Niall from beneath her frilled bonnet. For a moment, a hint of bravery flickered in her eyes. A chance to have an upper hand. "Because I am not strong or mighty on my own, Niall, I have been fortunate to make friends with some very mighty creatures. Please stay your spear. I promise, I promise she will not be violent toward you, if you are not violent toward me."

That, she could not guarantee. She had only met Greets a few days prior. But Niall did not need to know that. Let her think they were the dearest of associates; let her think she had the pulse of this creature under her thumb with those glass words, the very words that could turn Catch into something obedient, if at the risk of her own sense of morality and friendship.

"I am not here to make demands; I am here to beg you for your understanding, and for your silence. You see?"
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Greets » Fri Jan 18, 2013 12:18 pm

Greets’s ears swivel back as the spear is leveled at her. The huntresses tone and actions tell her all she needs to know. She blinks in surprise, her attention entirely derailed as Gloria wraps her arms around her neck. Gloria’s rapid string of words bounce around in her head as Greets sits still, concentrating on interpreting what was said. It takes her a few moments to decipher the seamstress’s words. She flares her whiskers and reaches forward to place her cold nose on Gloria’s arm for a moment. She eyes the huntress as she stands, her orange and black striped tail flicking, the very picture of irritated feline. She silently pads away and settles back down out of reach of the spear. Her tail curls around her large paws as she now intently watches the women, her ears perked at attention.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Jirai » Fri Jan 18, 2013 12:41 pm

Gloria has made a mistake. Oh, she has made a mistake indeed, claiming this tiger as her own. It remains to be seen what the consequences for this will be. This is no threat to Elliot, to be answered immediately and forcefully. No, this is something Niall might handle at her leisure. Once that the large cat retreats as Gloria had promised, of course. Niall is skeptical of the girl's claims, though - the seamstress is remarkably protective of something she claims to have for protection.

When the cat does move, her spearpoint follows it, even as she replies to Gloria. "You will tell me the why of this, what it is." Her chin jerked sharply to indicate the younger woman's gloved hand. "And then I will tell you my answer. Or I will leave." Niall has absolutely no problem with the latter. She might, perhaps, prefer it. She will already be late to a meeting she has no wish to be late to.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Rance » Fri Jan 18, 2013 2:08 pm

She did not want to involve the cha'har-that-was-not-a-cha'har -- and yet, she appreciated the comfort of the striped beast's presence; it gave a pause to her tongue that was not afforded by the stutters of fear. Beneath the bill of her bonnet, her eyes were hard and stony things, but they rarely moved away from the spear. Despite the distance, there was still fright there, but with Greets's presence, it was subdued. The seamstress was allowed more logic. A thing she thought Niall sorely lacked.

The spearwielder indicated her gloved hand. The girl raised it, speaking not of the black garment, but of what they both knew was underneath, "It is a thing I am ashamed of, Niall. A mark of exile from my home. You pulled the glove off my hand; you chose to push me against the wall. If it were not for your actions, I would not be here, asking -- no, pleading -- for you to keep this between us."

To Greets, she turned her chin, and held out a flat palm. Asking her to keep her distance, if only to keep the spearwielder sensible.

"I know that you and Elliot, you are like two side-by-side threads, Niall. What you know, so shall he. And what he knows, the whole world seems to know. I did not come here to bother you." A pause. She hid her gloved hand within her grimy skirts, as if trying to forget it even existed.

"I came to ask what price you require to tell no one, no one, what you saw. You see?"

Then, the girl did something she would only have done for Governor Glenn Burnie. She bent her knees, drew out a corner of her skirts, and threw her head forward into a bow so deep, one of her knees almost sucked itself into the frozen mud.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Greets » Fri Jan 18, 2013 3:40 pm

The heavy orange and black feline yawns wide, showing a very formidable array of weaponry. Her whiskers splay forward and her sandpaper tongue curls out and up before retreating. Her teeth click together, sharp and abrupt in the semi-silence of the country side. She moves not an inch. Her amber eyes intently watching the pair.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Jirai » Sat Jan 19, 2013 12:36 am

Several mornings, now, Gloria has watched. And does she assume that, in all that span of time, Niall has told no one? It would be a reasonable assumption, perhaps, save for Elliot.

"Gloria." The girl says curtly. "You can provide me with nothing that I want." This girl who has more than she ever thought she would have, who has everything except for that one thing she wants.

"I will give you this, however. Explain the why, the how, the what. Explain them -well,- tell me these things, and I shall tell no one else what I have seen. Or, again, I will leave. You have already made me late." If Niall had been someone else, perhaps she would have been moved by Gloria's courtesy. Niall is only Niall, though, and she is unimpressed.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Rance » Sat Jan 19, 2013 6:15 am

"Maybe I do not want to explain these things!"

The response was not like her; it was a shout, one that got tangled in the overhanging trees and swallowed up by the icy snow. Her warm breath blasted out of her in billows of steam, and her bare hand tightened into a fist against her skirts. "No," the seamstress said, very simply, trying to compose herself. "No, Niall. That is a price I am not willing to pay. Just as you would not wish to talk about those disfigurements on your face, I am not comfortable to stand here and talk of what brings me shame.

"I will not dissect myself for you to satisfy some need of yours to be in control," she said. "Truths such as that, they are reserved for those I trust -- and you, spearwielder, are not one of those people. How could I trust that you would keep it silent?"
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Jirai » Sat Jan 19, 2013 6:20 am

Niall stared at the girl for a moment longer. Then she gave a small shrug and simply started walking again, spear in hand.
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Rance » Sat Jan 19, 2013 6:44 am

She could not trust that Niall would keep it silent -- that was the whole matter of her offer in the first place, to convince her.

But some people could not be convinced.

"I know you can be frightened, Niall," the girl shouted behind her, raising up on the tips of her black shoes, tossing her words. "Maybe you are frightened of great animals; maybe you are frightened that Messa Elliot, he will leave you behind one day because you are just a stationary stone. A stone that is too afraid to be anything but round and rough!"

What did she know, of Niall and Elliot? Only that they were associates and nothing more. Only that they had threatened the life of her friend. The seamstress bunched her skirts up around her knees, squatted down in the road, pried a little white rock out of the dirt, and threw it. It flew high, then thumped on the ground several yards behind Niall. That was her final punctuation to their brief conversation.

"Here! Have some company, spearwielder. You will need it when everyone around you passes you by."

She turned, then, and kicked through the uneven path toward the cha'har. The young woman still reeked of fright, and the dark sweat on her face was a contradiction to the morning's bitter cold. She extended a shaking hand to Greets -- the one that was not gloved -- and said:

"We should leave," she said, "before I admit to myself that maybe I have made a stupid mistake."
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Re: A Spearwielder and a Seamstress

Postby Greets » Sat Jan 19, 2013 7:10 am

Greets simply rises to her feet and pads silently alongside Gloria.
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