Yarns and Yearnings - Printable Version

It had been some time since Fulgur had last stopped by the Palace. If anything, he feels a bit guilty for vanishing for so long, for not checking in with a familiar face often enough. There's Imp, of course, but today he has someone else in mind.

Mimosa, the Tailor. He'd helped her out many cycles ago, and he'd intended to return. They were a delight to be around, and they had seemed often lonely in their work, and - he's getting distracted.

Shaking his thoughts clear, Fulgur navigates the halls, before coming the door of the Tailor's workshop. The cracked door hid whatever was going on inside, but there was at least someone inside. Whether it was who he was looking for was to be seen though.

"Hello, Mimosa, are you there? I don't know if you remember me, but it's Fulgur, and I wanted to see if you needed any more hands," he'd call out, waiting to be invited in.

Mimosa emerged almost at once, three different bolts of cloth (in garish and contrasting colors) clutched against their chest. They blinked, eyeing Fulgur. "Oh!" they gasped. "I remember you! -Were you looking for something in particular? Something to be made? Something... fabulous?" They glanced across Fulgur, eyes seeking the satchel they had made; was that still there-?

The bolts of cloth were arranged and set carefully down on a table. A Caroller flitted to Mimosa's shoulder, singing briefly, and Mimosa offered it an absent pat. "I could use someone, actually." A finger tapped their lips, thoughtful. "But it's a big job, and... potentially long-term. It could pay well--oh, but what did you have in mind?"

A grin spreads across Fulgur's face as the Tailor answers. There's a good-hearted chuckle at the fabric filling their arms - horrifically clashing against each other, but the individual patterns are beautiful.

He takes a moment to glance around her shop - no longer filled with decaying racks and shelves, but properly stocked. His pause would be plenty of time for Mimosa to notice the satchel still looped around his shoulders, the embroidered pattern catching the light.

Plopping himself down in the most open area of workshop, watching Mimosa's Lessers flitter about in a way all to familiar to him. He tilts his head though, at the idea of a long-term job, one well rewarded. I just wanted to help out, he thinks to himself, but. Well. They're offering it first.

But then the Tailor is asking him, what he came for, what he wants. "Well... maybe a scarf? Or something to hang off my tail..," Fulgur thinks aloud. His first request had been practical, all those cycles ago. Now, he wasn't really sure what he wanted. "Either way, I'd love to give a friend some help."

Mimosa hummed in thought.

"Well! First things first. This scarf--what is its purpose?" they asked, focused intently on this topic. "Warmth? Comfort? Armor? Style? Did you have a material preference, a length, color?"

Already they were maneuvering back through their workspace, claws running carefully through various cloths. Yarn wools, cotton fabric--and the colors! All sorts of exotic dyes, a strip of leather that was glowing. They slithered through, glancing back at Fulgur with a thoughtful eye.

He finds himself echoing Mimosa's humming as they ask him what he had in mind. "Well, part of it style. Some comfort too, for myself or my little friends here," Fulgur decides on. He's remembering just how serious the Tailor was about doing a great job.

He follows them to their fabric stash, watching them sift through bolts, yarns, and hides. So many options! So many colors! So many patterns! All of them telling a story - That's it!

"Actually, I think I just had an amazing idea. What if, we started with a plain scarf. And later, we can sew in designs - Gembound I've met, things that have happened. Tell a story with it, like the tapestries in the halls." His eyes sparkled with the idea. "I'd be willing to learn to do it myself, if you could teach me. Or we could work on it together. Especially if you need longer term help - We'll be seeing each other often then!"

Mimosa paused, turning back. They studied the 'friends.' They eyed Fulgur, expression critically artistic.

For a moment they were silent, the gears in their head seemingly spinning... and then abruptly they brightened. Arms flung out, eyes went wide. "I have it!" they cried, excited.

A slithering rush to Fulgur's side, and suddenly claws were delicately prodding around their 'neck,' such as it was, measuring and testing. "Ooooh, yes. Now--hear me out. That is a beautiful idea, a wonderful one. As is being comfortable for your--CONCEPT!" they interrupted themselves, slithering back away and once more flinging their arms out, as if to indicate a HUGE IDEA.

"What if. We create you a lovely giant scarf to fit that lovely giant form, but we include little pockets sewn on, for your allies here? But," and a twinkle of mischief entered their eyes, "the material is something else? We can change it out as you go on your adventures, each pocket telling a story of friend or foe or drama or--what have you--but each can also serve as a little... nest?"

They flicked their gaze up at the bird-creatures as they spoke; they were asking Fulgur if this was suitable. Mimosa was, after all, accompanied by little birds and mice of their own, so it seemed they were somewhat familiar with the concept.