A Stitch in Time

Liam wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to sleep soundly the night of his arrival in Lakeshore, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. Now he walked through the streets on his own, with his backpack on his back and yesterday's torn clothes rolled neatly up in his arms. Apparently someone named Kazari had a clothing boutique they ran themselves. Liam just hoped they did mending on the side as well. He'd already passed by a music store called Deep Treble; he'd definitely have to go looking in there at some point. Later, though.

He paused in front of a window displaying various mannequins, all wearing various uniquely post-apocalyptic inspired outfits. The sign above bore the name Whipstitch. Looked like he'd found where he needed to be. Shrugging one shoulder, he headed inside.

Each rack o clothes was more interesting than the last, but Liam didn't linger to browse much, instead heading right for the first counter he noticed. His clothes were definitely not the same style as this place's offering, but it was worth asking anyway.

Kazari was at the back corner of the store, pinning together a poncho with a massive hood and elongated sleeve-things. There was a plus-sized dressform next to her, which looked to be just about her own measurements, that already bore a leather waist-cincher with embroidered suspenders in similar colors to the poncho fabric.

Kazari looked up at Liam's approach, a little smile curling her lips. "Ey, man. How's it?"

Liam gave the busy-looking lass a small smile back. "Could be better, honestly. I just have a question: do you do mending?" He held out his torn shirt and jeans. At least they were clean now.

Kazari toddled from behind the counter to look at the garments-- she was barefoot, and was wearing a delicate string tiny glass bells around one ankle. She took the shirt and jeans in her hands and seemed to test the fabric twixt her fingers. "This won't take a shake. S' definitely gonna look stitched though, since none of these tears are on seams."

She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised, her expression pleasant. "I can do it, no problem. Y'wanna leave these here and come back, or are you hanging out for a bit?"

Liam nodded at her assessment. "Aye, you can blame the trees for that. My face didn't fare much better." He rubbed at the cuts across one cheek.

"I'll hang around," he said when she questioned him. "Do I pay for that up front or after you're done? Also, do you take euros?" He shrugged off his backpack as he spoke, in case he'd need his wallet right away.

A lot of the stuff in the shop, honestly, wasn't really Dmitry's thing. He normally stuck to t-shirts jeans or button-ups and slacks. Just... clothes. Clothes weren't much of a thing to him.

But he was bored, and Kazari worked here, and he kind of needed a new sweater or hoodie or something before it got cold, so he was browsing. Staring at Liam a little, maybe. He hadn't seen the guy around before. Kind of cute, in a "wounded dove" sort of way. Hm.

Liam felt a pair of eyes on his back, and unconsciously hunched his shoulders a bit as he turned around. "...Can I help you?"

Well now he just felt awkward. He turned a bit and shrugged.

"Nah," he said with something between a half-smile and a grimace forming on his face, "just wondering what tried to take a chunk out of you. Must have been some hungry trees."

Liam nodded, his initial unease slowly giving way to awkwardness. Looked like he wasn't the only one, either. "Aye. And the fog didn't help either."

Kazari's eyes reduced to little half-moons as she smiled at her friend's entrance.

"First one's free," she said as she spread the garments on her counter top.  She grabbed a pincushion and started to mark and close each tear to make sewing them easier.

Liam turned back to the lass who may or may not have been Kazari, and smiled at her answer. "Good to know. Thanks."

He glanced between her and the other whose name he didn't yet know. "...So what advice would either of you give to someone who's new in town as of yesterday? I have no idea how long it'll take for me to find a way back home, and I'd rather not have to just bum around until then."

Dmitry looked the guy over; he seemed mortal enough. And new? That sounded like a hell of a story.

"Uh... outside of obvious stuff like finding a place to sleep, not pissing off the Headmistress, and not making deals with inanimate objects?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "There's usually places around here hiring if you're looking for something to do."

Liam nodded. "I'm staying with Romi at the Drunken Loa, at least for now. Who's the Headmistress?"

Dmitry nodded. Good that the guy wasn't in danger, anyway.

"Veronique Poulain, kinda scary, may or may not be a powerful fae lady or a witch who eats children, or a perfectly nice woman who adopts underprivileged changelings, depending on who you ask. She runs the giant black castle thing you've probably seen. Zari and I go to school there."

Liam nodded. "I've seen it." The giant black silhouette was kind of hard to miss. "What sort of classes do you take there? I imagine it's pretty interesting with Fae and mortals alike attending."

"There's a little of everything, s'far as classes go," Kazari said from her new spot, perched cross-legged on the counter, swiftly hand-stitching the tears. "Like, I've got a mammalian philosophy class, an' a berserker management course, an' weight training, an' a class that the school cook teaches about experimental cooking. S'crazy fun, I swear."

She pricked her finger, and checked the offending digit to be sure there was no blood before continuing. "Also some magic classes, tons of 'em, really, an' each of 'em is different. An' there are art classes, for all different kinds o' crafts. My Maka does glass-blowing an' there's one fer metalwork and one for growing plants into planned shapes..."

She realized she was rambling a bit, and shrugged. "Dunehelden's a school where ev'ryone's got a place. If you don't belong anywhere else, you'll belong at Dunehelden."

"Meanwhile, I'm an English Lit major," Dmitry said drily. "Though I'm also taking a lot of ritual magic and that sort of thing. Where are you from, anyway?"

Liam's eyes widened as she spoke. "Berserker management?" It sounded like there were some dangerous people there.

/Mammalian philosophy sounds interesting,/ Eve piped up. /I guess there must be avian philosophy too, given people like Ezem and Odol./

Liam gave her a small nod, hoping the others wouldn't notice. He looked to the other man and answered, "Tralee, Ireland. How about you? I can't place your accent." Judging by those ears, though, he had to be at least part Fae.

Dmitry grinned. "Lakeshore accent. Kind of a grab bag. Most of my family's American, from a few different places, but I've lived here my whole life."

Liam nodded, then realized he hadn't even introduced himself yet. He held out a hand. "I'm Liam, by the way. Nice to meet you."