an aid to laundry troubles

[unsheathedfromreality]

[At some handwave-y time shortly after the closing of the Story, a note in an workmanlike cursive hand goes up on the bulletin board:]

If you need a change of clothing, I can make simple tunics and trousers that won't disappear.

Find me:

[A simple doodle of Illarion's face follows: Pointy ears, long hair, blindfold (or veil), malar stripes. Enough to go on when most of the Library is human.

It is signed below the doodle with an eye-and-feather symbol. No name.]

IC UPDATE:

[A few hours after the initial post goes up, an additional sheet of paper is appended to it:]

Payment is not necessary but if you're one of those who can make or find permanent items, you can bring one of the following:

- Fabric
- Thread or gut
- Head/round knife
- Awl
- Leathering needle
- Raising hammer
- Pliers
- Portable anvil
- Hides or leather

NO glitter. We have plenty.

Comments

[not_scrap]

Do I want to know what kind of pervert you are???

[unsheathedfromreality]

A dead one.

[not_scrap]

[....!!!]

That's not how kinks work, bestie.

It's supposed to be the other way around.

[unsheathedfromreality]

Which way around is that?

cw: nsfw stop breaking her tiny brain

[not_scrap]

???? [mommyhelp, is what she would say if her mother ever gave a sol about her.]

The.

Other???

Way?

Normally the dead don't have, ya know, sexual preferences.

Or ...fuck. Wait a minute.

OKAY come on they can't consent.

Which is why it's not cool.

counterpoint: no

[unsheathedfromreality]

Definitely "not cool".

That's why I hope no one in here has designs on me.

Not interested.

*sobbing* how did this get so deranged

[not_scrap]

Well, I mean

I don't.

Can't speak for anyone else.

Maybe you just got to have less of a winning personality or something. [Let her be your Terrible Life Coach!]

Or like
If someone hits on you, let me know. I'll take care of it.

the magickal powers of dead bird (do not eat)

[unsheathedfromreality]

You think I'm being too friendly?

I can be worse.

Take care of it... How?

the forbidden birb

[not_scrap]

Bestie.
You're offering to make everyone clothes. For free.

[Sounds like someone doesn't know how things work in the corporate hellscape of the Expanse. Do you need help capitalisming or something?]

That's literally the definition of 'too friendly'.

How? I have ways. An inspiring speech about boundaries. A small plasma cutter. I've been told I'm intimidating. [All five feet NOTHING of her. And also it was 'eerie' not intimidating, but that's...close.]

thanks now he has an existential crisis

[unsheathedfromreality]

[That is ... not actually a bad point she has there.

He had not thought at all about asking for any form of remuneration for what he was doing. Nor expected it.

That would be normal if he were at home among his own people and providing a necessary service -- though he'd never been needed as an artisan; there were others better than he.

It would be -- normal -- among the Unearthed, who acted as cogs in a machine without desire or need. Whichever of them could do something did it and expected nothing in return.

He might be broken.]

Good point.

Don't know what anyone would pay me though. There's not anything I need.

[Including, strictly, someone to protect his non-existent virtue and debatable good nature from being abused. But ... this person's ferocity is at the very least interesting.

(Maybe amusing. If he could find things funny.)]

If it ever becomes a problem, I'll come to you first.

just one more service she offers

[not_scrap]

[Yeah, that happens, if people actually listen to her. She occasionally knows things and sometimes they are correct things.]

I mean that's how most warlords get their start. Get people owing them favors and stuff without currency. [Aspirational???]

So like, uh...maybe just put a pin in that idea for right now. Just saying it's never bad to have people feeling like they owe you something.

[Listen, when you're small and nearly glow in the dark, you get tough or get squished. She ain't squished. So consider your honor: GUARDED.]

You better. I've dealt with some creeps before.

"think about your life, think about your choices" as a service...

[unsheathedfromreality]

I did use that one a time or two myself back when I was Warlord.

Asking the living to owe me favors seems like it gets back to the wrong order of things.

Jokingly.

[He will definitely regard the ferocity even more highly once he meets her.]

I don't doubt.

So what will I owe you for that favor, if I ask it, o Warlord?

Those who can't, teach or something like that

[not_scrap]

Listen, all I'm saying is you give shit away for free and people will start to take advantage of that.

And there's a word for people who take advantage of dead things.

[Probably several but she's trying to clean up her act]

Also you sure do talk a lot for a guy who says he's dead. You sure about that?

[JUST SAYIN'.]

Oh no, that's a freebie. I hate people getting taken advantage of. [Been there, done that, burned the tee shirt.]

[unsheathedfromreality]

"Living," I'd hope. Everything still alive relies on what's dead to feed it one way or another.

[He's recovered his mental footing enough to get melodramatic about the situation.]

But point taken.

Yes. No heartbeat, no breathing. Definitely dead. Still moving and talking by an unfortunate circumstance.

[Dead in many of the ways that mattered!!]

Thanks, in that case, for the course correction.

[not_scrap]

Um. I mean. Okay? Not the word I was thinking, but sure.

[That's what she gets for trying rhetorical questions. ] ....make us sound like mushrooms but ok.

Nothing personal but I'm an actual doctor and that's not technically possible, unless

uh.[oh no. Rauth was right. All this time. No, no don't freak out. Keep it CAAAAAASUAL. ]

So. You know.

Whose.

Uh.

Whose soul are you using? [It wasn't technically necessary: Rauth had had no soul but it was worth asking. Rauth also had a pulse, tho.]

[unsheathedfromreality]

I hope you're not eating your food still alive, but to each their own.

My own. Why I'm still a person. If I had part of someone else's we wouldn't be having this conversation. Would be trying to eat you alive.

Ghouls don't think much.

suddenly

[curzed]

[at some point there's another message, in writing that autotranslates via the Powers of the Library from a pair of ornate glyphs to:]

I have designs on you.

uh oh

[unsheathedfromreality]

[He has a guess who this might be.]

I should have known. You were so forward asking to eat my heart.

[curzed]

[The series of glyphs continue. Look he's not writing in any other language if he doesn't have to.]

Fair's fair, you did break one of mine.

[unsheathedfromreality]

How could I not? You were so persistent in pursuing me. So focused, so dedicated.

But we are creatures of two worlds, you and I. Doomed from our beginnings.

It was only a kindness to stop you.

[curzed]

This, after we've been through so much? You'll break the other heart. I could have kept your breath forever in my hands if you hadn't wounded me so.

[unsheathedfromreality]

[Let it be known Illarion has no idea what they're doing here but he also is much too stubborn to let a bit die.]

My life, my breath, my heart, none of these things are mine to give any longer. How could I promise them falsely, by deed if not by word? 'Tis better, though it hurts, that I have treated you truthfully.

[curzed]

[Curze knows and he's not letting it go either because unfortunately for everyone who might read it, he does in fact have a sense of humor.]

Ah, the intolerable Monarch! I accept no rivals, not even a Throne Above Thrones.

What was taken I will claim in turn; I won't hurry, anticipation ripens best on borrowed time and I have always been a craftsman of what remains.

[unsheathedfromreality]

[There is that, at least.

Illarion wouldn't be able to tolerate the idea he'd nearly been murdered by someone completely humorless.]

The Monarch, even the very dread King of Eyes, and behind him the Thief Herself. If you could snatch back what She has stolen even from Her dread talons, then you would be a consummate hunter indeed. Could you, I would be extravagant in my gratitude.

O, cruel predator! To promise me release and then delay in delivering it? Truly I am repaid in kind for your broken hearts.

[curzed]

I would pluck those Eyes from history like a rotten tooth and leave his realm to bleed around the gap, if only you do not deny me my prize!

I dread no talons. Hers are not the only claws in the dark. Perhaps your false Powers, drunk on their larceny and lies, should be sobered with extinction for taking what is not theirs to claim.