#marisol: threads

[marisolmakesmiracles]

Open starter for @faerunestarters

Marisol came back out into the main room of her shop with a box of sewing supplies and a whole rack of fabric swatches. "I can't tell you how excited I was when you called saying you wanted a commission." She smiles and starts getting various things out of the box and putting them on a table. "Ok, before we do anything else I need all your measurements. Then we'll sit down and talk about exactly what you want and I'll do some sketches and we'll go from there!"

[marisolmakesmiracles]

Closed starter for @orchestralcollage (Leif)

Marisol sat across from Leif feeling awkward. He was her nephew, the son of the brother who, up until extremely recently, she had thought was dead.  But they were so attached, and it was clear that Beau loved him with his entire heart, which only made her want to love both of them even more.  "I know a bit of french sign language, I feel bad, I know you and your dad sign but I doubt it's the kind I know. We don't have to talk if you don't want to though," Marisol rummages through her bag for a moment and takes out a glittery notebook and pen. "If you wanna write we can do that. Or we can just sit, whatever makes you most comfortable, I just want to be able to spend some time with you."

[marisolmakesmiracles]

Closed starter for @likewanderingstars (Briana)

Marisol sat next to the other woman, sipping on a drink that for all intents and purposes was more sugar than blood. "I'm imagining that you don't know a ton of people here either." She looked around the room again, waiting for something she couldn't put her finger on. There were a few people at the vampires-only party she knew by face, even less she knew by name. Two, maybe three, that she had actually spoken to. "I'm Marisol, I just came to the city a couple months ago."

[marisolmakesmiracles]

Closed starter for @rippingxstitches

Marisol hauled out four rolls of fabric, two on each shoulder, huffing slightly under their weight. Coming back to the front, she put the fabrics on a table and smiled at Miss Buttons. "Let me know if you like any of these. I've got one that's a little fluffier and a couple other colors in the back but these are definitely the best quality." As she sat watching the other woman evaluate the potential purchases Marisol decided, "It's so nice to meet somebody else who understands the importance of good materials. I swear everything these days is just plastic. I mean I get it, plastic has its uses, but it's taken over everything, nobody even understands what they're missing." She sighed for a moment, at the end of the day it wasn't going to help anything to freak out, she was doing what she could. "So, are you still interested in a bit of a trade?"

[marisolmakesmiracles]

Closed Starter for @nash-mcnaughton​

Marisol was completely lost in her thoughts, her hands worked mechanically as she made ruching on silver silk.  Beau, Leif, all the things she had learned about Faerune. Marisol had come to the city to get away from the drama, literally, actors could be extremely tiring to work around. This shop, Tixtily, and the flat she lived in above it were supposed to be her way of getting away from drama, finding people she could be honest with, and doing the things she wanted to do.  The door to the shop jingled and Marisol jerked, snapped out of her sewing trance.  Walking to the front of the floor she smiled at the woman who had just come in. “Welcome to Tixtily! I’m Marisol.” 

[marisolmakesmiracles]

Closed starter for @overlashing​

Marisol sipped at her blood daiquiri, it had about four pounds of sugar in it and was an almost bubblegum pink. But it got her a little tipsy and tasted better than almost all of the other properly legal stuff so it was serviceable.  She smiled at Emmet, “And you’re sure I can’t get you to jump ship and come work at Tixtily?” Before the boy could react she laughed. Tixtily and a Stitch in Thyme had had a friendly rivalry going for a few months now, Marisol firmly of the belief that clothes should be handmaid and custom and Mattie recognized that that just wasn’t practical.  “I’m joking, I’m joking. Although you know you’re always welcome. Tell me how school’s going. Oh! And I made you this, I had some time over the weekend.”  Marisol reaches into her bag and pulls out a small package wrapped in brown paper and blue ribbon.