[Closed/Aila] A Sudden Commission

[Charity Falkenrath]

	＊ｃｈａｒｉｔｙ＊
	It was late afternoon in St. Pancras Station. As the sun slowly descended through the sky and the dimming rays beamed through the rafters in the main room of the unofficial marketplace/crafting hub, Charity crafted. She'd taken to spending a lot of her spare time here. After all, she didn't have a real place to call her own (other than squatting in unpurchased buildings) and needed somewhere to practice her craft. And previous encounters in quiet taverns had been... unsavoury. So, she took to working in the large and open public workshop that had been set up in the former train station. It suited her just fine too; it was right next to the marketplace so whenever she needed materials it was only a short walk, most crafters kept to themselves and she was rarely bothered or put on the spot, and the space was large, open, and safe. She felt... relaxed in the ruined station. So she'd managed to essentially take one of the open worktables as her own. It was littered with various miniature projects; practiced embroidery, attempts at cutting fabric in varying ways, different forms of stitching and joining, and small doodles of potential designs. Each one was small, quick, and haphazard, fitting not only her limited budget but also her limited attention span. She'd managed to make a small amount of money from various odd jobs other crafters had, as it wasn't hard to find a tailor in need of someone to stitch a hem or a blacksmith with a hole in their shirt. From this small and unsteady income she lived, and she practiced, slowly improving her craft day by day. It was peaceful, and happy. And as she sat, with her various pieces of fabric and thread in front of her, she smiled.
	300 | Aila

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

"Fuuu... icky..."


Aila stumbled wearily back into the crowded streets of Londinium, covered in blue slime and her only outfit, the cloth armour she had been given, or rather the drenched remains of it. She'd be in tears too, if not for the probing eyes of adjacent passerby's. A single mishap in the Windsor Hills led to this catastrophe including being piled on by eager slimes. She escaped thanks to a well-used clutch spell but not without a disastrous amount of sticky ooze in her hair, clothes, and every other surface the devils could find. Harmless they may be at first, but those mobs were aiming for a prize in sheer evil. Aila wouldn't be surprised if they were soon recruited by a Demon King as high Generals.


Feeling like she had been dipped in a tub of ooze, the young Druid sought comfort in a warm shower and fresh new clothes, both things she had yet to obtain. The shower... was something she could give up on due to the near impossiblity of it under current technological circumstances, but she really should get some clothing other than her shabby armour. Not only to change into but a girl's gotta look good too, you know?


Thinking these passing thoughts, Aila made her way towards the marketplace, looking for something to wear, when she spotted a lone girl, about her age, with fabric and needle in front of her. This brought Aila's hopes up tremendously. She was about to settle for the ugly tunics and rags that the landers were selling but adventurer made clothing had to look better. Alright, she couldn't let this chance up.


"Um... Excuse me." Aila greeted as she approached the girl nonchalantly. "I don't mean to bother you but... would you happen to be a tailor?"

---

WC: 300
Notes:


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.

[Charity Falkenrath]

	＊ｃｈａｒｉｔｙ＊
	Charity's peace was interrupted, very suddenly. She heard the sound of people snickering and muttering, but paid no attention. That was, until she heard it getting closer. And she heard the sound of goo-covered feet squelching on the Station floor. A moment later, a voice called over to her. "Um... Excuse me." Charity looked up, slightly nervous, but her nervousness quickly turned to shock when she saw the mess stood in front of her. What appeared to be a girl, about her own age, with long brown hair and some very simple cloth armour, was buried under a small mountain of slime and goo. It was everywhere, and it was revolting. But, under the grime that covered her, she seemed to smile at the lone Tailor. "I don't mean to bother you but... would you happen to be a tailor?" She asked. "U-uh..." Charity stammered, still a bit shocked by the sudden appearance of a half-girl, half-goo druid. After a moment, she gathered herself to properly answer. "I-I- yes, yes I am. My name's- my name's Charity. D-do you need anything?"  She looked the stranger up and down. It was quite easy to hazard a guess at what she needed. "L-Like some... new robes. And a bath, maybe." Charity said, still staring a little bit. The poor girl definitely needed new robes, and there was no way Charity could leave someone to deal with such... such grossness. She'd have to help her.
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