Seamstress - Human - Level ???
Sotis I hate how much better Adelheid’s [Identify] range is…
At least it seed to be a real seamstress that Malwine was dealing with—not that the detail made things that much better. The only real silver lining here was that she was successfully avoiding panic so far.
Got anything red or orange? Preferably on fire, to go with the proper response to this? As her inner complaints went unanswered, Malwine allowed herself a mont to calm down. She probably wasn’t dealing with soone outright using ntal communication—her thoughts were probably safe. Probably.
Then again, if she were a mindreader, ignoring anything people thought in her direction was probably what she’d do, too.
Physically, Malwine had gone very still—she was surprised to realize it wasn’t out of fear of discovery. This woman just struck her as the type to value secrecy, given the short exchange with Hildegard they’d witnessed.
…So she reached for whichever shreds of self-control had kept the widow from sending a certain professor off to the graduate program in heaven, and took a deep breath.
“Got anything sea-thed? In color, of course. It looks pretty, but obviously, I’d rather stay safe from it,” Malwine answered, not quite addressing the matter of ‘favorites’. But Xina had gotten herself into this bind—if she hadn’t wanted to get a weird request, she shouldn’t have tacked that offer on.
A part of her wondered whether she was underreacting, but this reminded her of exactly the kind of under-the-table dealings the widow had with people who had access to private databases and the like before. So people truly did only care to a limited extent, fulfilling whatever was required of them without having any further desire to do anything with that information.
The seamstress tipped her head lightly, presumably analyzing the response she got. For once, she didn’t seem to be playing a character, brief as the mont was.
Xina’s lips twitched, and only then did she respond. “If you have a fear of the sea… Well, you’re not alone in that. I’ll be the first to say there’s nothing anyone can outright do about that, but I suspect there might be a few things up to your liking here, if you are fine with layers?”
While Malwine pondered on the specifics of however this woman was communicating, with what little she’d seen so far, the seamstress spoke aloud. “I have just the thing in mind, though you will have to try it on first…”
That’s it, Malwine realized, far more confident than she had any right to be. Sohow, the woman was either mouthing words or whispering, and the words were reaching her specifically. The first ti she’d ‘spoken’ in that manner had caught her off-guard, but if it wasn’t a form of ntal communication, then this was the next explanation she could co up with.
It took her a second to notice her reflection was now wearing a simple loose dress, with next to no embellishnts. It was sowhat of a muted cyan, with thin armstraps. The neckline was high enough that she doubted it’d look well with any necklaces, not that she even had any. Devils, I’m slipping. If she kept looking this deeply into clothes, she might as well beco Lady Margreth. Or the widow, honestly.
“Do you like it?” Xina asked.
Eh. Malwine resolved to just allow herself to run wild here. This was the first ti she’d gotten to really go buy anything in this life, and who was going to judge her for it? If Hildegard or any of the adults had a problem with just how long she ant to spend here if allowed to, then they shouldn’t have put her in this position. “It’s not bad. But not really.”
“I see,” the seamstress nodded. She waved a hand and snapped her fingers again, the dress in the reflection swiftly replaced by another. Malwine couldn’t even make out which part of the room either had been taken from—chances were, Franziska directly pointing at her choice the first ti around was the only reason she even noticed that one’s original placent.
The second option presented to her by Xina was also quite loose-fitting, but the fabric fluffed up by her shoulders. It distantly reminded her of a stereotypical ballgown, but just barely. “Nah.”
It wasn’t really rude, was it? She was secondguessing herself, but these were specifically the type of circumstances under which soone could afford to be picky. Without dwelling too much on the underlying reasons, Malwine couldn’t help but wonder if these sudden worries of her ca from the knowledge that the Rīsans in general had a bit of a shit reputation. She almost felt the need to compensate for that, absurd as it was in isolation. There was really no need for her to be complacent when this woman was quite literally offering to let her check out her options.
Various dresses followed, all on the plainer side. Between that comnt about layers and just how flowing yet unadorned the dresses Xina had her try out were, Malwine had a bit of suspicion that the seamstress was thinking of having her wear sothing on top of this. That assumption might have influenced her opinions in turn.
Considering what Franziska had chosen, it might have seed a bit odd to not pick sothing at least slightly more elaborate. But if this dress would be paired with sothing else? Her first thought was to just aim for comfort, if that was the case.
In the end, Malwine chose an a-line dress. Deep sea green wasn’t exactly a good look, but if neither she nor Xina outright called it that, it’d probably be fine.
The seamstress grinned as she made her selection. As she’d suspected, they weren’t done just yet. “Excellent choice. Now… Forgive —in this case, you can choose sothing else, but this would be my firm recomndation.”
In her reflection, the dress did not vanish—it was simply joined by another piece. It was a sh bolero of sorts, with sequined waves forming patterns all across its surface. She couldn’t help but notice it seed to be cut from a single piece, with no seams separating the sleeves.
Malwine’s eyebrows went up. “Oh?”
“You have strange tastes for a child,” Xina noted, shaking her head. But not once did she drop the smile. “This kind of combination would go well with sandals, if you ask . I don’t carry shoes, though. Tell that old coot to handle that, if she doesn’t plan to already.”
“…Okay,” Malwine wasn’t sure as to what else to say—the seamstress wasn’t exactly wrong on that first count. “Thanks?”
“It will serve you well,” Xina said, retrieving the pieces as she had with Franziska’s dress. “This is the closest I could get to your request. While worn, this should keep you safe from The Rain.”
Thoughts of The Rain presenting a threat to her had crossed her mind approximately never, but Malwine simply nodded back—it wouldn’t do here, to be ungrateful. She had a free outfit for Thekla’s wedding now—a free outfit that apparently ca with so weatherproofing including.
I don’t know why I expected more. Perhaps Veit had skewed her perspective in a sense. Everyone didn’t need to be so hidden powerhouse, out there to confront the children keeping their potential secret. A magical seamstress could be ‘just’ a magical seamstress. Had she hoped for more to co from the interaction? …Yes.
But this was what she got—and while Malwine would have been willing to ask so more questions had it just been her and Adelheid, Franziska was also present. She couldn’t just send words over to Xina as she presud the seamstress had, so the likelihood that she’d get to push any further seed slim.
I won’t forget this.
Either she’d send Kunegunda over later to investigate, or she’d check it out once she was actually in a position to wander about alone. The seamstress had an Affinity—she’d probably still be around in a decade or two.
Malwine clutched the bundle to her chest—not as dramatically as Franziska had, but she found herself growing increasingly curious as to what actually putting magical clothes on would be like. The onesie doesn’t count. …Wave take , I’d completely forgotten that thing, then harvestables had to co and make it relevant to again.
“I do not like you,” Adelheid said, though she still took her place on the platform. “You’re hiding things.”
“The dead speaking to the hanged,” Xina snorted. “Anyhow, dear—what are your preferences?”
Malwine couldn’t begin to imagine just what must have been going through Adelheid’s head. Had the seamstress spoken to her as well? It seed likely—perhaps she’d spoken to her even earlier than she’d spoken to Malwine, if her relationship with Hildegard ran deep enough for her to know Adelheid wasn’t mortal.
Between Xina’s strange communication thod and Adelheid’s {Implicit}, this whole thing must have been a ss from her little sister’s perspective. The girl could sohow detect things people didn’t say, reading into their silence. How would that ability interact with whatever Xina was doing?
As Malwine’s thoughts wandered with rampant curiosity, Xina moved to tap on what might as well have been a random dress. A second later, she walked across the room and touched a different one. “Better?”
This text was taken from . Help the author by reading the original version there.
“No.”
By the fifth ti the seamstress physically touched a dress instead of just using her abilities, Adelheid sighed. “Fine.”
Xina bead.
With a snap of her fingers, Adelheid’s reflection shifted to show her wearing a velvety dress that touched the ground, oddly reminiscent of liquid. It was an extrely dark variant of either purple or blue, nearly black. The girl examined it in silence, a critical glint in her eyes. It almost looked absurd given her age, but Xina remained unfazed.
“Does that suit your purposes, little one?” the grinning seamstress asked.
Adelheid just shot her another glare. “It isn’t ugly.”
With that final comnt, she crossed her arms over her chest and simply walked off the platform. Though visibly unhappy, she no longer seed outright angry.
“What’s wrong?” Malwine dared to ask in a whisper as they walked back to the door.
Her little sister gave her quite the complex look in return, not quite pouting. “I can’t hide here. I do not like that.”
Malwine pursed her lips. “She seems to literally only care about her job,” she told her sister, carefully. “Though to be clear, I don’t like this very much either. I’m pretty sure she can tell, you know.”
“I’m better at hiding than anyone in grandma’s family ever was,” Adelheid said—considering the specificity of the comnt, that must have been sothing Hildegard told her. It wasn’t as if the girl had any fra of reference for her ancestors.
Sothing occurred to Malwine as she considered that—she hadn’t really looked into Adelheid’s ancestors beyond the Hūdijans. It was all too easy to get stumped there, especially with everything Hildegard had told her little sister. That family had practically been wiped out, with Bernie being the sole known exception.
Johanna Babette fon Wuryin. It took Malwine a mont to recall the na in full. Did she have any living family? As far as she rembered, her parents hadn’t been labeled as deceased on her wedding—not that she could really get her hopes up. That was in the 5600s…
Still, it was sothing she could look into for the ti being. Her only real clue as far as her actual ancestors went was the matter of Widuzhain—a place so obscure even Veit claid he’d need a better map to locate.
“We’re back,” Xina called out as they returned. “I worried you might die of old age before we were done.”
“I’m cutting you out of the will,” was all Hildegard said in response, rolling her eyes. The pastries she’d been left with had disappeared. The old butler turned to the girls then. “Did you all find sothing you liked?”
Xina looked offended by the implication that any of them might have left empty-handed, though the question was not entirely out of place—Adelheid had sent her dress off to her inventory, presumably uneager to carry it around.
Not having to carry things might actually be worth exposing myself as being in the Mortal Esse… The idea was far more tempting than it had any right to be.
“Yes!” Franziska was the first to show off her dress, wrapped as it was. “It’s so pretty.”
“I got sothing,” Adelheid said. She clearly had no intent to elaborate, for all Hildegard raised an eyebrow.
Malwine just nodded. “Yep.”
“Excellent!” Hildegard seed satisfied enough to hear this, though her brow furrowed as Xina took this as her cue to hand her a sheet of paper. “Pardon —what?”
“I thought the budget was of no concern to you?”
The old butler seed to be in the middle of a breakdown. “What in any Devil’s na did you have them pick out, wave-touched gold?!”
“Please. Their selections aren’t even past the average price for what I carry here,” Xina assured her, her hands raised in a pacifying motion. “I consider them quite reasonable, in any case.”
“This is extortion!”
Malwine just tuned out the argunt at that point. Hildegard’s complaints ca off as performative—maybe she’d have to explain the expense to Bernie, and wanted to be able to say she hadn’t ant to spend much? Either that, or that she’d tried to haggle it down.
Regardless, they must have lingered for close to another hour. It was more than a bit excessive, for all Malwine had a more personal grievance with their exit—naly that she didn’t even get the chance to sneak away and ask the seamstress a question or two. For all that’d be little more than a fantasy as far as ideas went, sothing born out of her sheer curiosity, a part of Malwine still itched to do sothing.
Adelheid bumped into her on the way out, sighing. “That woman didn’t say we’ll both need to get sothing for Thekla.”
“What do you an?” Malwine frowned. Her little sister’s phrasing implied it was sothing she’d found out through her power, but that didn’t make it any easier for her to make sense of it.
“Sothing about lending a gift to mortal relatives on their wedding—I really don’t get it,” Adelheid shook her head. “If it’s lent then it isn’t a gift, is it?”
It seed the girl was just as confused as Malwine now was. Is this a ‘sothing old, sothing new’, etc. type of thing? That was the first thing to co to mind—she hadn’t put that much effort into learning more about that kind of tradition here, and their education so far hadn’t covered anything like that.
“I will store your dresses until we return to the carriage,” Hildegard told them, pausing before another store. At least this one had an actual sign, even if it was only a symbol—a bunch of wiggly lines, at that. Malwine couldn’t make out what it was supposed to be, but it didn’t even remotely resemble the syllabary she’d learned, so she doubted it could be sothing readable.
Suppressing the urge not to narrow her eyes as Franziska handed her dress to the old butler, Malwine summoned an otherwise invisible panel before herself, ntally pressing the symbol she was looking at against the panel with both [Write Anywhere] and [Write Anything].
Nothing happened, the panel remaining blank. Almost definitely a doodle, then.
Adelheid reached for her all of a sudden, standing between Malwine and the butler with a hand upon Malwine’s shrouded outfit. “Here, sister, let help.”
Catching her aning, Malwine inventoried the dress and bolero—Adelheid took a step back imdiately, a soft smile upon her lips.
“Thank you!” Malwine returned the smile, and genuinely so. I’m so proud of you. She hadn’t thought to coordinate sothing like this before—perhaps, so long as Adelheid was around, Malwine could get away with not outing herself for just a little longer.
Hildegard gave Adelheid an odd glance, but seemingly chose not to comnt on the matter. Instead, she reached for the door, holding it open for the girls.
What greeted them was what appeared to be a jewelry store. In the widow’s Earth, those had sotis involved sparse pieces locked behind glass. Here, they were in piles, scattered across baskets. So were displayed hanging from hooks—mostly necklaces—while everything from bandanas to earrings and more were all tangled with each other.
The furniture within also had what Malwine could only describe as a bizarre wicker the to it, making her wonder if whoever had made the baskets had also made literally everything else. They certainly had skill, she’d give them that.
“Adelheid, my dear,” Hildegard started. “This is important, and I need you to listen carefully.”
So somber was the old butler’s tone that the girl in question actually turned serious.
“One thing all who have potential have to co to terms with sooner or later is that their mortal loved ones will not be around for long. A century will likely be nothing to you, while it could very well be a mortal’s entire life,” Hildegard said. “When it cos to events that would otherwise be turning points in the life of a mortal—especially one who is close family to you—there are certain expectations you must et. Normally, this would apply to all individuals with potential who keep in contact with the one being wed, but in this case—as you are the only one—it is your duty alone.”
Ah. It clicked, finally. Hildegard must have been speaking of whatever Adelheid picked up on from Xina—sothing the seamstress would have known applied to both of them, for all the old butler didn’t.
“You own nothing as it stands, so you will have to buy sothing before we can proceed,” Hildegard continued, clearly oblivious to all the things Adelheid undoubtedly had in her inventory, awaiting the day when she deigned to ‘return’ them. “I will provide you with coin for your selection, but the transaction will have to be sothing you handle personally. Choose sothing you would want to have for yourself.”
“Why?” the girl asked, eyeing their teacher suspiciously.
“Because you will then lend it to the bride, for the wedding and for the rest of her life. In an ideal world, this would be done with a aningful possession—sothing that would cost you sothing to be without for the ti being, however minor. Upon her death, it would return to you, changed.”
Vague explanations aside, the tradition did sound interesting enough. It was about having the bride borrow sothing, after all.
Adelheid started looking around. A few of the baskets rested upon tables too high for her to browse without tip-toeing, but she could examine most of them. “What kind of item?”
“Anything that would have been valuable to you, if you were to own it.”
As her little sister perused what the store had available, Malwine found her disappointnt growing—not at the task at hand, so much as at how mundane this store seed in comparison to Xina’s. While it was clearly furnished by so eccentric craftsperson, it wholly lacked that magical air to it. It was just so store.
Damn. Is it bad I was starting to hope I could get so magical accessories to go with the outfit?
She was spared from further despair about how she probably wouldn’t be accessorizing anyti soon, as Adelheid chose that mont to abandon all stealth. Every shadow in the room rose at once.
Hildegard’s eyes widened, while Malwine had to suppress a laugh as the shadowy tendrils started helping Adelheid reach the baskets that were too far up. Her browsing sped up considerably then.
For her part, Franziska yawned—this was clearly just a regular day with Adelheid to her.
At so point, a clerk had shown up and joined the old butler, staring at the girl who was casually lifting and examining various earrings and bracelets without lifting a finger. Malwine felt the urge to call them rude—her little sister was being quite polite about it. She could tell it must have taken effort to put everything back almost exactly as it had been before, but the girl did it anyway.
Every day you make more and more proud! Not that Malwine was anywhere near a good judge for what excellence looked like—but she’d stand by that.
“This,” Adelheid said, allowing a band to plop down to her awaiting palm. It was tallic in nature, though not precisely a golden hue—whichever tal this was, it wasn’t sothing Malwine could guess from sight alone. Three tiny bells hung from it, a black ribbon at the top of each.
The shadows receded, as if they had never risen.
“…How much for that?”
“I’ll take a two silvers if it’s for… this nice little girl you’ve brought in.”
“Adelheid is the best,” Franziska nodded in the clerk’s direction.
Hildegard walked up to her ward, placing two coins upon her hand. “…There, dear. All you have to do now is walk up to him and pay for that.”
“Okay,” Adelheid did as she was told, reaching the clerk. It was then that she froze, confusion crossing her features. “How do I pay, exactly?”
“…You just have to hand those coins. And then, that is yours.”
“That’s it? I just have to give you coins? And it’s mine?” the girl seed incredulous. Malwine felt her stomach drop as gears must have been turning in the girl’s head. Oh, no. Sothing told her Adelheid was going to be up to even more ‘borrowing’ now, if this had sohow convinced her all she had to do to own things was leave coins in their place.
We really need to get out more. She added broaching the topic with Hildegard to the ever-growing list of things she had to get around to doing soti.
After Adelheid’s first experience with purchasing sothing, the sisters’ gazes fell upon each other. Adelheid looked around the room, at the baskets, before raising an eyebrow.
Malwine shook her head. She didn’t doubt the girl could probably pressure Hildegard into also letting her buy sothing, but she wasn’t entirely without alternatives. Besides, they’d have probably had to make Franziska hop on the wagon too, and that would have made things weird.
Well, weirder than usual, when it ca to Franziska the third wheel.
“Thank you for your ti,” Hildegard gave the clerk a pitying look as she motioned for the girls to once again follow her. While she wasn’t as stoic as Bernie, there was sothing deeply amusing about how desperate to leave the old butler looked, as if she might lt out of sha or sothing if they stayed there for a mont longer.
Their return to the carriage was otherwise uneventful, though Malwine passed the ti trying to co up with what sort of item she’d want to give her aunt. While she lacked the necessary context to grasp the full implications of it, this sounded important.
Hm.
I think I might have sothing in mind.
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