A Stitch in Crime

[Glenn]

One. Two. "Three." Elliot Brown grunted the last number. This was attempt twenty-seven, and damn it if he wasn't going to succeed eventually. He was a little battered, a little bruised. Once he'd even dented the floor of the Dagger. He'd blame N'Vek on that later. Or Treadwell. Or Both. One chasing the other. It was... no, focus. Another try. One. Two. "Three!"

The increasingly agile rogueling was positioned precariously upside-down upon two barstools, one palm upon each. Muscles had been trained in new and painful ways over the last few months. At one point he could swing a sword about the size of his entire body. Now, though, now he wanted to be able to perform this feat of skill and daring, to lift his left arm off of its stool so that he was supporting himself, balanced perfectly, upon one hand and one stool alone.

The world around him seemed to go still and silent as he removed the arm. Every time before now this led to falling and fumbling. On this twenty-seventh attempt, however, his body stopped shaking and trembling under the strain. It was solid and steady, his legs propelled upwards straight and true. Through strength and practice alone, he held himself aloft for long seconds. Three. Five. Ten. Before, the arm gave way and he toppled to the ground with a loud thud once again.

[Suede]

"That seems entirely pointless and overly straining to waste as much effort figuring it out as you have." The smug, slick voice of Suede came from the second of Elliot's stools, where his hand hadn't been perched in those last few moments. He was seated there with legs crossed and hands clasped over his knee as he stared down at the prostrate boy.

The tailor was as impeccably well kept as he tended to prefer, dressed in dark forest greens cut to fit him perfectly. Even his boots had been dyed to match. Those dark eyes seemed to be considering Elliot with something akin to the affection one has for a prancing puppy. "I'd heard the little squire had taken up some new activities, but I honestly didn't really expect to see the change. Good show."

His tone was jovial, and there was a smile flitting across his pale face, one that might be disconcerting with how genuine it appeared to be.

[Glenn]

Elliot was of two minds on the matter. One, it was very very nice that Suede had actually SEEN him do it, even for a short time. At least SOMEONE had seen it. On the other hand, if he had just showed up twenty-one attempts ago, the former squire might have some energy left in him. Right now, he just wanted to lay on the ground and no, no, it was quite alright, no need to help him up with one of those poison hands, Suede.

"Just.." A little huff and puff as he caught his breath. "Just see me in a few weeks. See what I'll be able to do with it soon." It was all a key that unlocked doors, that led to more interesting, impressive, impossible things. Then he looked at the tailor almost idly, curiously even, for no one knew much about Suede except for he was the drow-swain poisoner who betrayed Myrken. For what he did specifically to Niall and Elliot, he should try to kill him. For standing by as Jirai gutted him, he should kill him, but he was exhausted and not really in that sort of a mood lately. "So who trained you to do what you can do?"

[Suede]

Well Suede certainly wasn't going to bother getting off his perfectly functional chair to offer that hand even if Elliot had requested it. He just continued to sit there, back completely straight, and looked down at the former squire with that utterly sociable and friendly expression on his face. "Seems like a waste of time and effort to me. Doing handstands is hardly practical..." He paused and rubbed at his chin for a second. "Unless you plan to go work at that theatre in town... in which case keep up the work!"

So happy was he. The squire's other question had him leaning forward over his lap to bring his face closer, his hand shifting to cover his mouth as he stage whispered. "I had an excellent tailor as a master back home. Really knew his stuff with a needle. He said he used to make clothes kings all over the world. I'm willing to believe him." Probably not what Elliot had been asking about, but the tailor wasn't one to easily give a straight answer. "Why? Were you interested in learning?"

[Glenn]

"It's a building block." The boy's voice was annoyed and impatient as he managed, somehow, to shuffle up to a sitting position. He didn't want to explain any more than that. Obviously the tailor didn't really care. Elliot would show him though. He'd show everyone. Look at all he could do already. A few months ago all he could do was carry a giant sword. Solena understood, and now he understood and that was enough. Nova might understand too, or if she didn't, she'd just accept it with a nod and a smile and that was good enough too! "You'll see." He added, just for the sake of it.

Now, he was a little obstinate too, and his questions followed a certain line. "What do you think he'd think about you now? You could have made clothes for kings too, maybe. Instead, you're running around poisoning lakes and bedding crazy drow." Then, looking away, almost embarrassed by his need to ask, but so many weird things had happened lately and his life was surrounded by people and creatures strange and varied. "How did it happen? What made you want to court her? How did you meet her?"

[Suede]

"Maybe I will, I'm eager to see what you stack your blocks up to make." Still congenial in the face of Elliot's smarm. The tailor simply didn't see the need for all the effort just to balance on the stool, and perhaps the boy could educate him.

There's a friendly chuckle at the boy's first set of questions and he unfolds his legs so he can lean forward on his stool between them and set his hands forward between them with fingers spread. After a breath he wiggles them. "Now I make dresses for queens and make myself useful with other work. I think he'd be content enough, not that I particularly care what he thinks of me." If the tailor did, perhaps he'd have spoken to the man in the last decade.

And the last series of questions left him blinking, mildly surprised at the curiosity. I mean, when was the last time anyone asked even a falsely sincere question about his personal life? He considers for a minute before speaking smoothly. "Why do you want to know?" He straightens in his seat again. "If you're looking for love advice I don't think many folk would recommend me." Still, after a beat he shrugs. "I poisoned her and it caught her attention, she's far more interesting and... alluring than people give her credit for, and on the job." He ticks up a finger with each point.

[Glenn]

No words for Suede's first thought. He didn't get to see what Elliot was working towards, not today, not after making light of it... not before Elliot could actually do it yet, but maybe someday, someday when the tailor least expected it. It was, perhaps, not the sort of thing one was able to witness twice. Maybe some day, Suede Roschen.

Instead, the rogueling would look up at the tailor with a little frown. "Was your master cruel to you?" The way Elliot saw it, a cruel,harsh master would inspire either a great amount of caring or none at all. It'd make some sense, Suede's attitude about it. His own master wasn't cruel at all. No, if anything she was indulgent and in being so, she, more than anyone or anything else, has been inspiring the changes in the boy's personality for good or ill.

"Why did you poison her?" He really didn't like thinking about Jirai's charms but in some ways it was currently relevant to him. In others, not at all, so he moved on quickly. "And who taught you to poison people? Is that some sort of secret tailor thing? Are all tailors secretly poisoners?" Surely, Solena would have told him about that. Could he truly never trust a tailor again?

[Suede]

Not particularly. Nice enough man. Strict as he needed to be, and certain that I learned my lessons. Gave me a lot of free time as well, now that I think about it. Why do you ask?" Elliot's mistake when trying to put reasoning to Suede was assuming that there was reasoning to be had. The tailor was a far different person, and it was quite likely that he simply didn't care about most people the way everyone else did. There were undoubtedly exceptions to that rule, but much luck to you in being one.

He pointed a finger towards Elliot's nose and winked at him. "Why wouldn't I? Besides, too many people assume all poisons are bad for you. All those medicines they shove down your throat at the Rememdium are poisonous to something, sometimes to the person they're meant to help." And Suede knew how to find more interesting uses for them all. "Apparently it impressed her enough that I pulled it off, too. It's good to impress a woman you like."

"They might be, I haven't really asked. Would be an interesting situation, but if you must know I'm self-taught." He sat up a bit taller on the stool, sticking out what chest he had. "Look at me, kid. I'm not a big guy. No big nasty, scary monster stomping around the Dagger. I figured our rather quickly that I needed a different way to survive if something wanted to eat me... I made myself unedible. Surprisingly effective way to garner respect. You should try it."

[Glenn]

"Because I'm going through an apprenticeship right now?" It seemed reasonable enough. He was trying to find common ground. That's what people did, or at least what teenager's did. It's what Elliot was doing more and more. He couldn't understand people intrinsically. He didn't have that sort of gift. He was confined to what he knew and had experienced and the social norms that constrained him. Suede didn't fit into any of those norms so all he could do was work through his own experiences. "That sounds a little like my apprenticeship though." Elliot had loads of free time so long as he got his work done.

A girl you like. Here came the social norms. "I like it better when the girl you like acts NICE to you. It's just a headache if she's always trying to cause you trouble or argue with you. She should just be nice to you. That's how you'd know she likes you." Hugs. Hugs were good too. Way better than scarred magic scowls. Who knew?

"Has anything ever tried to eat you?" Well, that was a straight forward question. "Most of the things around here aren't that big. I don't see Constable try to eat you."

[Suede]

"Apprenticeships are all the same. You find someone who knows the skill you want to learn, they teach you the way they know how to, then end. Some just have different methods." Suede prided himself on not being part of the social norm of Myrken Wood. It was far too backwater for his taste. He rolled his eyes at Elliot.

"Don't be so narrow minded. There are different styles of flirting and being nice. You know she likes you by watching how she reacts to you and treats you. Does she like you around, treat you differently than others? Do you get her favors?" Really, if Suede relied on being treated nicely to know what Jirai thought of him he'd be quite certain she saw him as little more than a knife sharpener. "I like a woman who's more assertive and confident."

A shrug here for both his own statement and Elliot's question about being eaten. "A few things, and I'd rather the constables just didn't touch me at all. They're dirty."

[Glenn]

"Why did you want to be a tailor then?" Elliot couldn't imagine wanting to make clothes all day, or to measure people. He had drifted from knight to something else not quite as glamorous but just as exciting. "My family's all farmers. I was supposed to be a farmer." He gave a little shrug at that, from his seated position, as if that would preclude Suede asking why he ended up taking the path he did.

And then he asked a question that he rather regretted immediately. "What favors?" Elliot's imagination was a very funny thing. By itself, it was a mundane sort of thing. Old wives' tales. Scary stories told to Myrken children. A few fairy tales, the sort that would inspire one to run off and be a knight. No, almost despite himself it was developed through his own experiences, the Ashfiend, the psychedelic year of being Niall's companion against the hallucinatory weirdness caused by the drugged Chocolate. None of that is on his mind now, though. He's just trying to get horrific lewd images of a laughing Jirai out of there. "Ew."

[Suede]

"When your family pays to apprentice you, you get apprenticed. Besides, it seemed a fine way to learn a lot of people's measurements and... details." Suede was enjoying this conversation, what a delightfully simple and amusing way to pass a short period of time. Most of his other discussions are far more life threatening.

The tailor gives Elliot a curious look, one eyebrow arching high until he lets out that disgusted noise. Suede just rolls his eyes waves the thoughts way with a palm down gesture of his hand. "Oh, clean your mind up. That's not what I meant and I'd thank you not to think of her that way." There's a small breath, perhaps a sigh. "A favor is a token from a woman that they give you to show their interest or consideration of you. A handkerchief, scarf, maybe some of their jewelry like an amulet or ring."

Suede took a moment here to flash a ring on his left hand at the boy, a simple silver one with tiny etchings around its entirety. "That way you know they like you. Didn't you used to be a squire? Knights got them from Ladies before contests where the knights could be their champions."

[Glenn]

"I can't imagine you with a family." Blunt, honest, but there it was. Did people think the same about Elliot? Somehow he doubted it. He did start quite a few sentences with the words 'My Ma says" after all. Still, he had left and he rarely went back, so it wasn't all that different. "Were they kind? How did they die? What did you want to be instead of a tailor, then?" When Elliot Brown asked a question, it almost always came after a whoppingly wrong assumption. It was one of the boy's charms. He rushed halfway and only then thought to look back and ask. By then it was generally far too late. Then, after the fact. "Haven't you made a suit for Councilor Treadwell? I wouldn't want to know his details." Or his measurements, really.

"Yeah, I'm fine without Jirai's handkerchief, thank you very much." Drow snot. Who the hell wants drow snot? And what did she give Suede anyway? A black rose maybe? And they dance underground and he has it between his teeth? What a stupid image. The boy frowned and shook his head. "This is Myrken. I don't care what people do other places but no ladies give that sort of stuff to knights here. They generally pour a drink on their grave after they die. Something like that."

[Suede]

"Funny, I'm a happily settled man." The rest of the questions weren't likely to receive a direct answer, Suede just continued to stare at Elliot with bland look on his face until he stopped speaking for a moment. "Who said I didn't want to be a tailor? Or that my family was dead?" There was a pause here, Suede took a breath and glanced towards one of the windows. "You're a strange one, did you know that?" Then he chuckled just so. "And there are more details about Treadwell than what you're thinking. Useful ones."

There's a tip for you, Elliot, don't overlook something of value. And along that train of thought his eyes came back to the former squire and started measuring him up rather blatantly. "No, I don't suppose you would. But I also think you're a bit blind. Perhaps part of the reason you're not a squire anymore is because you can't even notice when a woman is giving you her favor." Suede reaches into his pocket in his vest and pulls out a small book he begins rummaging through the pages of.

"Do you have a paying job right now, Elliot?"

[Glenn]

"Not stranger than anyone else. Not stranger than you. I don't even think I'm AS strange." Suede wasn't giving him much in the way of answers. He knew the man had a baby with that drow. Ick. And he couldn't even imagine Jirai pregnant. How had Suede survived? Solena wasn't that bad but just...picturing Jirai that way. He couldn't help but shudder. "And what's so special about Treadwell's... you know. Big. Long. Fat. With pockets for food. What else is there? I hope you charge him by the inch."

That was why he wasn't a squire anymore. "Here in Myken, it's more important to avoid the undead or dragons or the baie eating you than whether or not a lady is giving you her drow-snot covered hanky." He left the order on his own, because it was a big crock after all and because he got better offer. There was a glance at that book,as much of one as he could manage from his position. Such things were always interesting to boys just learning to read, but for the most part, he stayed aloof. "I do pretty well for myself." He was becoming more eager of a fledgling thief everyday. "How do you make money. I don't see lines of people waiting for you to make suits for them. You're sort of wanted, and not in that way."