I’m going to go ahead and treat this like a writing prompt, because writing something fun is how I feel like starting the new year. Also because I don’t know how to visual novel. Hope that’s okay.
“These things are in tatters. I might have to patch’em up just so they survive the wash.” Candace felt through the piled and ragged black fabric, taking careful mental note of each snag, fray, and blemish. “Can I get some measurements on you to make sure I don’t hem them too short?”
IF I DID NOT FEEL THAT THE RIPS AND TEARS GAVE THEM AN APPROPRIATE… GRAVITAS, I WOULD HAVE PATCHED THEM MYSELF. The figure in the black hoodie and black jeans before her conveyed its opinion. It was apparently wearing the only articles of clothing it had that were not going to be in her care and which still hid its face to its satisfaction. I AM SURE THEY WILL BE FINE. THEY HAVE SURVIVED FAR MORE ROUGH HANDLING THAN A SIMPLE WASH.
“Sweetie,” she beamed her best customer service grin at the figure across the counter, “you would not be in my shop if what this needed was ‘a simple wash.’ It’s my job to recognize and clean this grass stain from the fields of Elysium, this mud stain from the banks of the Styx, the sands of time ground between the fabric threads, the dust of passing souls on your sleeves. Bone dust caked inside. I could go on, but I think you get my point.”
I SEE. I SUPPOSE THOSE SORTS OF THINGS DO NOT COME CLEAN WITH NORMAL METHODS.
“Exactly. Now, the tailoring and repair only costs a little extra, but I think you’ll be pleased with the result. You won’t have your… particularly pronounced bone structure tearing through these worn places the next time you swing your scythe.”
VERY WELL. TAKE YOUR MEASUREMENTS.
Candace hurried around the counter with her tape. As she unfurled it, its markings briefly flashed in unreadable runes before resolving to something akin to numbered centimeters. “Thank you. You won’t regret it. Like I said, I really just need your hem length to fix up where you’ve let them drag. There’s not much left.”
The figure perked up at this. I LIKE THE ROBES DRAGGING BEHIND ME. LIKE I SAID, GRAVITAS.
“And like I said, there’s not much left to drag. Dragging against the ground is the quickest way to mutilate the bottom edge of any garment. You’re lucky you haven’t caught a ragged edge on something and fallen face-first on top of your latest client.”
“Uh-huh.” Candace continued with her measurements while the customer sighed in annoyance inside the hoodie. “Arms up.” She smirked to herself quietly. It probably didn’t get told what to do very often.
Most of her customers weren’t used to being told what to do, for that matter, but they needed her skills more than they needed their egos coddled. (This was a special challenge with another customer who was the literal personification of mankind’s Ego, but even he was mollified once she pulled her phone out and started calling him a cheapskate on social media.) Once they got past those particular issues, they were usually quite reliable customers. Candace felt it was important to connect with such high-profile customers, and she now knew many of them by personal names that few others would be allowed to know. Gods, demons, angels, spirits, and a whole list of anthropomorphised personifications of abstract principles had graced her tiny dry-cleaner, now apparently including Death itself. They rarely paid in cash, so she cleaned mortal clothing as well to keep the bills paid. But these beings knew what her skills were worth, and paid appropriately. She was a people person, and enjoyed the variety.
“There, my measurements are all set. How soon do you need these by?”
HOW SOON CAN THE TASK BE DONE?
“Rush jobs cost extra. I can have them to you by last week, but you won’t like the bill. Father Time gets cranky about that.” The customer paused. Though she couldn’t see its face, she could tell it was mildly impressed, and she smiled inwardly.
UNNECESSARY. HE AND I HAVE A CERTAIN… PROFESSIONAL RIVALRY THAT I AM NOT WILLING TO ESCALATE AT THE MOMENT. WILL THREE DAYS HENCE BE APPROPRIATE? MY CURRENT ATTIRE WILL SUFFICE FOR MY DUTIES IN THE INTERIM.
“Three days is a pretty quick without time dilation, but doable. This is a pretty big order, and that Styx mud does not come out easily. Since this is your first time here, I’ll let you see my work before we discuss the bill.”
The figure held out its bony hand, and Candace shook it heartily. “Thank you. I’ll see you in three days. Just make sure to come by after mortal hours next time. I don’t want anyone startled to death.”
The figure nodded in acknowledgement and simply faded from reality. Candace likewise retreated to the back of her shop with the customer’s order.
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