Topic: Splitting seams

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-10-12 17:27 EST
Deciding to wear her best motley for the performance at Miss Maranya's hospice, Lirssa drew it out of her wardrobe. She had worn it only for special performances, or when the other motley was still dirty and not yet washed. With such care, the red with its gold accents had been preserved very near its original rich color and spark.

In her anticipation, she began to dress and found to her consternation, "Butter and beans, not this one, too." Yes, her growing had taken its toll on her favorite motley as well. It was bad enough that her mother was having to try and keep up with the twins and her in their everyday clothing. There was no way she was going to expect her parents to spend coin and time on motley. They never had before, and Lirssa was not going to let them start.

The impromptu performance would have to wait. For now, she had to fix the situation of having no well fitting motley, and the only person she could trust was Miss Lydia. Dressing back in her embroidered tunic, with additions to the sleeves to lengthen them, and her pants, tucked into her boots to hide how short they were, she picked up her emptying coin purse holding her own well earned funds, and started the walk into town and on to the Stitch.

At her arrival to the Stitch, the afternoon sun was high in the sky, arching towards its rest on the horizon. She smiled to the staff each in their turn, but she was on the hunt for the main lady. There were other things she needed to talk about than just getting taller. Parts of her were slender, others wider, and all sorts of strangeness going on. She needed a private consultation.

Lydia Loran

Date: 2008-10-24 00:51 EST
Lydia sighed and rubbed at one of her temples. As always, she and Griffith clashed on color choices for an outfit. "...and the plum would be a good choice, but I think the royal purple would be just a little better. Plum is mute, while the royal purple would pop and really accentuate the form." Griffith droned on as Lydia did her best to politely suppress a yawn. "If I were a woman I'd rather wear brighter colors." Lydia also did her best to suppress a grin at yet another of Griffith's 'if I were a woman' lines.

"Alright, I'll tell you what. You go ahead and do what you want to and I won't say another word about it. I trust you not to mess it all up." Normally the elf would have argued her case further, but lately her time had been limited. Between the seasonal change and several clothing commissions, notably Maranya's, most of her time had been spent at The Stitch working. It even cut into 'minstrel time' a little, but she was sure Soerl understood. The newfound busyness of her life was hardly a permanent fixture now.

Griffith was giddy with news of Lydia's surrender and his win. Promptly turning to depart up the stairs, he only slowed long enough to eavesdrop on a pair of dwarven women at the shelves gossiping loudly amongst themselves about The Crimson Flash. Pretending not to hear them or care for the conversation, pale blues wandered idly around the store. Contemplating a retreat upstairs as well, the thought was short-lived as the elf caught sight of Lirssa.

With a bright smile, Lydia waggled fingers in her direction. "Good afternoon, Lirssa!" She lingered near the counter as she awaited the girl. It was one of the few sanctuaries in the store where one could speak quietly and avoid the prodding ears of all the gossiping biddies dispersed about.

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-10-25 12:12 EST
"Morning, Miss Lydia!" A secret grin and swift walk over to the counter with furtive glances over her shoulder, Lirssa joined Miss Lydia at the counter. ?Miss Lydia, I?m splitting my seams.? Her voice appalled at the very idea. ?And I think I?m getting fat as well as tall. It?s all tight around my hips,? bemoaning the awful truth as she poked at the hips. ?Look.? Even her everyday clothes were loose enough around the waist to create a considerable gap between cloth and skin, but the hips were snug.

She turned putting her back to Miss Lydia, pointing at her shoulders, and as she did the seams strained against the motion. ?See that? It?s worse in my motley. I tore it clean open the other day.? Turning back around, the strawberry blond hair swung into her eyes and she pushed it back with irritation.

On tiptoes she whispered, shielding her mouth from others with one hand. ?I think I?m going to need measuring again. I?m getting ? roundish.? Dropping her hand away, back flat on her feet, she gave a resigned smile. ?I hate being trouble.? The last said with a bit of a sigh and grump at the complexities of it all. More she hated her body being trouble and having its own mind of things.

?Oh, do you have time to make two, please? One like everyday-ish sorta not over fripperied,? her fingers wiggling in mimic of sparkly and ribbons and all sorts of grandness, ?and the other like really nice for super special times? If not, then just one that?s super special. I have a performance to do for sick kids at Dr. Maranya?s clinic, and while probably my everyday one would do, I mean, they?re sick, and a little bit of flash and sparkle doesn?t hurt, does it? I?d like that one to be like the color of raspberries. Do you like that color, Miss Lydia? Or maybe??she had stopped whispering back to her normal chatter all excited about the prospect of motleys and the performance as well, and just life in general again. ?Well, you know what?s best. And we?ll settle on a square fair price.?

A rock from heels to toes and back again, fingers danced upon the edge of the counter. Spritely green eyes mirrored the gleeful smile shining absolute faith and trust up to the lady.

Lydia Loran

Date: 2008-12-04 03:11 EST
Lydia laid her palms flat upon the counter separating her and Lirssa, making sure to sit up straight as she listened dutifully to the young girl's woes and chatter. The corner of her lips twitched, nearly betraying her amusement at young Lirssa's plight. She settled for a small, soft smile, but amusement couldn't help but twinkle in her eyes, mingling with a sympathetic look.

"Lirssa..." Lydia finally spoke up, tilting her head in ponderance of how to word things. It seemed best to be careful about such things. Gentle tact was needed. "You are certainly not getting fat. Not a bit." Smile widening, Lydia shook her head. "You're just-" Pausing, she turned her gaze upwards, thinking of how to word things. She tried to think of how Soerl would say such a thing, so that she say it differently. "-becoming a young woman."

Thinking such a topic might be more appropriate for Lirssa to broach with her own mother rather than herself- in spite of the girl's faithful smile- Lydia turned to fumble about behind the counter. "I'd be more than happy to measure you again. And as far as making your motleys, I can use a particularly stretchy fabric so it'll last a little longer this time." Adding a little more give around the bust and hips would help as well, but the elf didn't feel the need to say it out loud, lest she inadvertently upset Lirssa. Continuing her search for the measuring tape, she spoke up again. "And I love all shades of red, so I think raspberry is perfect. It'll go great with your hair. I'd have to give some thought to the other motley's color, if you're not sure what you want with that one already."

Breathing out a victorious 'a-ha' when she located her tape measurer, Lydia draped it around her neck to join her emerald pendant before her gaze found Lirssa again. "It's very sweet of you to do a performance for the children at Maranya's clinic. I'm sure they'll love it too. Something like that is just the thing to boost their spirits." Her smile twisted in an almost peculiar, wistful way before she glanced to the stairs.

"I can get your new measurements here, or we could go upstairs if you'd like?" With so many gossipers and biddies about, it was easy to feel on display at The Stitch sometimes.

Lirssa Sarengrave

Date: 2008-12-07 17:35 EST
"A young woman..." Lirssa sighed and looked quite forlorn as if she had just lost a best friend. "It sounds so expectant, doesn't it? My mother says that and it seems like there's more to it. There's things that will have to change in big ways."

She started up the stairs with a grateful smile that curved her mouth softly. It was a physical answer to Miss Lydia's kind offer of taking measurements upstairs. The conversation, however, continued in the same vein of change. "I mean, I'm used to change and all with this town and folks, but it is like when the change is me, and I'm not even asking for it, it's got this big ole weight to it. Folks will expect different outta me. Did they expect different out of you when you became a young woman?" Though it would be hard to say the teen gave Lydia much of a chance to speak to the question. "Did your mother and father expect different from you? Get that look in their eyes that you knew they were having big thoughts they couldn't share?"

Arriving at the top of the stairs, she sighed once more. "Expect. Everything is expectation. And expectation of things I haven't a clue about."

It seemed to be the summation of the crux of her predicament, and having spoken it, she managed one of her more natural and brilliant smiles for Miss Lydia, and then hung her limbs loose like a puppet with loose strings. "Just tell me where ya need me and what ya need me to do. It's killer good of ya, Miss Lydia to take this on." And she prepared to be measured and make the bargain while the thrilling idea of two motleys overtook thoughts of the cause of the constructions.