Kitsucub - Tailormade Shenanigans 2
This meeting had been… different.
So Adra sat down behind his counter and… finished the previous work. It was about an hur of careful concentration, still. It would calm him. Free his mind properly.
Embroidery was an art, after all.
After the hour was over and the thread stitched up properly, the roll of fabrics had not moved an inch. It was still there, just as precious and beautiful as before.
Silks, satins, cool, thin linens.
Where did he even get those? Sure, he did not always have the means to purchase the most expensive wares, but they weren’t even on the table. Clearly, his trader held out on him.
Running his hands over the fabrics, he was almost sad to stitch into them.
But alas, it was time to sketch. There were rather wondrous things one could make with those fabrics. Extravagant fashions, worthy of a nobleman, if not a king.
After putting the fabrics away, Adramelech began sketching, keeping in mind the lanky face and likely statue under the mass of coat he had worn. A somewhat eastern cut seemed to work best. Working off of that, he put angles and colours to suit his customer best.
However strange the encounter had been, it certainly was worth his time.
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In the evening – regulars came and went in the meantime – the man came back, smiling and smelling of sugar and cider. He laughed and waved at some people he apparently had collected.
As soon he was in, he grabbed a chair and sat on it the wrong way around, peering over the back rest at the tailor.
Said tailor didn’t stop his lines until this particular sketch was done: “Welcome back,” he said, just before spotting the candied nuts the man had placed on the table, together with a steaming pot of cider. It caused him to frown.
“For you! You worked all day, so you couldn’t go to the market. And it’s bloody cold out.” The man grinned and shoved the cup a little closer.
And Adra realised, blinking, that he might have missed the chiming of the clock. The room was cold, almost freezing. The fire refill should have happened a few hours ago.
“Thank you…” he said, placing his hands around the cup. Now that he paid attention, it was pretty cold.
“Good. And then tell me what you thought up,” the man said, clearly excited, but leaning his chin on the chair.
It was a strange one. Adra still answered: “Certainly, I can show you”
“Show me?” the man’s eyes went wide when he received the sketches and looked through them, and he started grinning. “Well, aren’t you a talent”
He leafed through the pages and nodded at every one of them.
“Lets be honest,” he said, placing the sketches back on the counter, “I like all of these, truly”
Adra nodded: “But?”
“But… I need to blend in. Right now. I need to be one of the people that come from here. Especially this,” he tapped on a folded tunic-alike sketch, “Reminds me of home… and I like it a lot. There is just… that issue of blending in”
“Mmmh… I… can do that, but it is quite a shame. I am sure you would wear It excellently,” the fabrics were also better suited for something like this.
“Flattery brings you everywhere,” he laughed, grinning, “And I commend you on making the right call, I’d usually fall for it. Today… I need t blend in. So. Please make me a town appropriate outfit and then we can talk about others. Yes?”
“… I will come up with something fitting, then”
He clapped his hands. “Marvellous! Then… I’ll throw some wood in the oven and let you work. I‘ll come back tomorrow, if it’s alright with you?”
“… I suppose, Mister…?”
“Ruthven, Mazin Ruthven. Pleased to be of service. And… congrats on the correct size assumptions,” he lifted his coat and twirled once. Yes, the sketches were approximately right.
And then he… did as he had said – apparently the fire still had been going, despite the cold, it caught on immediately – and left.
Ah. Alright.
