[Solo][Crafting] To Turn A Blind Eye

[Zyoto]

St. Pancras Station. A veritable battlefield of voices and people, the generally common elements of city life showing itself heavily in this abandoned train station as many people passed by one another, everybody practically weaving through the mass of merchants and craftsmen. Despite the cacophony of people and the groups so thick one could barely see from one wall to another, this old rundown train tunnel honestly felt like one of the few places Zyoto could feel free and did not have to fear for her husband discovering her. Ironically enough however, it was that very fear that brought her to this station today in the first place. She had heard that Noihara had a clothier room in their own guildhall, and thus she did not have to be sneaky, as the guild's leader would have no real need to craft out here in public.



Walking with a large bundle of the cheapest fabric she could find held in her arms, Zyoto made her way into one of the public crafting halls. There were countless other craftsmen, all working on projects of their own particular trades. As she sat down on a comfortable little carpet, perhaps tailored by another craftsman in this very hall, she gently set her assortment of materials down beside her. Space felt a bit limited with a Chef behind her, sprinkling powders over what seemed to be a baked good; an Alchemist in front of her, grinding up herbs and mixing concoctions; and a Brewer to her right, mixing some drinks as he simultaneously sold them. Getting comfortable, Zyoto grabbed her sewing needle and began to feed the thread through the eye. Having picked up a few tricks here and there from her husband, she doubled the durability of the string by tying a knot to keep the needle in place at the center of the thread, using up twice as much material but for slightly improved strength.

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[Zyoto]

As she slowly and casually made progress on her craft, tailoring just a simple hooded shawl with which to hide herself under, she barely noticed how her body appeared a bit reclusive, her body language showing herself trying to keep to herself and prevent any others from catching a glimpse of her. Zyoto was not usually like this, especially in the old world, but she unconsciously wanted to be hidden, the massive crowd of people making her tense with each piercing of the fabric in her hands. As she was nearly finished with her little project, she was approached by the handsome Brewer, a glass in his hand extended to the Elven woman. As she followed the arm to see the man's soft, handsome smile, he softly spoke in a tender voice. "You looked like you could use this."

Internally sighing, Zyoto shook her head, speaking a bit softly. She did not want to risk being social, but her objection seemed to be for naught. "No, that's alright. I'm just a bit tired is all."

Lightly chuckling, the man smiled and took a seat near her. "Then perhaps some company to keep you awake?" He smiled at her before barely bowing his head in her direction. "My name is Aleister. Might I ask your name?"

She was grateful that the man would not intrusively help himself to her character sheet, and giving a bit of a cold response, she spoke with a tension in her whole. "My name is not important." The man looked a bit familiar, though despite trying her damnedest to remember and recall from where she had seen him before, she could not.

There was a slight moment of awkward silence before Aleister took it upon himself to break the auditory void. "Are you a Tailor? Judging by your materials and equipment, I would assume you are fairly low level; if you would be interested, my Guild Master is a skilled Tailor. Hell, the guy's so helplessly social I'm sure he'd probably take you under his wing as an apprentice or somethin'."

Zyoto felt her heart skip a beat or two as she listened to the Brewer's account of his Guild Master: A Tailor who is so social he often takes on low level students. Her fingers stopped for a slight moment as she realized just who he was talking about, before gulping at keeping a straight face, continuing to craft her cloak. "I am... I am not interested..." This Aleister must be a Noiharan; that must be where she remembers him from.

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Words: 426
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[Zyoto]

Once again, there was an air of awkward tension between the two crafters. In that silence, Aleister took a sip of the drink he had offered the woman, then placed the glass down on the floor they were both seated on. "Alright, suit yourself. Well, if you happen to find yourself in a changed mindset, you can find him in the Cathedral most of the time. That's where our guild's set up shop, after all. Ain't that impressive? This guy bought the friggin' Cathedral as his guildhall."

Zyoto was lightly sweating now, nearly upset at the incessant dialogue from the man. Perhaps if she remained silent he would leave, and as such she came to the choice of taking such an action, hoping her silence would repel the man. Despite not giving a response of any sort, she had to agree. 'To think he actually did it... You were always one to be ambitious and make promises you couldn't keep, but you always gave it a hundred percent, and when you made a promise it was always seen through to the end. I suppose I really shouldn't be too shocked - I mean, he is MY husband after all.' With a bit of proud satisfaction, she couldn't help but grin ever so slightly as she thought of him. Thankfully she had finished her cloak just a moment ago, making it seem as though her satisfaction were with the craft as she input the name and description. "Umbral Shawl: This large cloak, made in desperation of a foolish yet necessary cause, is more than capable of hiding the identity of whosoever shall don it." She was not always the best with words; that was his job, after all. So long as it served its purpose, she could care less about the item's flavor text.

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Total: 1050