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make it out alive
rabka in raveria
Permalink Mark Unread

Rabka does not like her odds in this magic but her owner still hasn't backed down. The loaf of bread and its crusty wings are gone and putting Cathei down in various locations in the magic has not turned her back from being a teapot.

There's a door.

It's a magic door, so it might just eat her, but so might the trees and the rocks and the pink-and-grey cross-stitched pillow that looks like an orrery, and it's something to try that isn't just sitting here trying to see if the big glassy bug tastes like chicken.

Rabka opens the door with her eyes shut, teapot-Cathei clutched tightly to her chest.

Permalink Mark Unread

When she opens her eyes, she's in a large room - is it a room? no walls are immediately in evidence - absolutely filled with fabric.  Bolts of it stacked on shelves, panels acting as dividers draped from a mesh ceiling that seems to stay up with very little support, sunlight beaming through it, and elaborate rugs on the floor.  Some of it's arranged by texture, much of it by color, in rainbows or in displays of more selective palettes chosen to match tightly with each other.

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Visible behind one of the panels is a person, with a well-coordinated outfit and hair that would probably be the most eye-catching in any room that didn't contain Rabka.  He's caught up in embroidering something, very quickly and precisely, and doesn't notice her.

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Gosh, those are nice rugs, that must have taken forever. It's so pretty here. (Her hair shifts a little, subtly chameleonesque, emphasizing different parts of the rainbow depending on what her head's near.) "Um - hi? - I got here through a magic, I can, uh, go somewhere else."

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It takes him several seconds to look up, and when he does it's as if he's only just processed the existence of an interruption, not like he was ignoring her.

"Mm?"

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"Hey. Uh, I went through a magic. Where am I?"

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"Sparrow cloth shop.  There's a portal somewhere, do you mean?"

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"I mean, anyone's guess if it'll stay that way. What country is this?"

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"Zibel.  Where were you before?"

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"...far away. I've never heard of Zibel before."

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"Well, welcome."

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"Thanks! It seems nice here so far!"

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"I guess.  Do you need help getting somewhere?"

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"That... would be nice? I don't know where I'd go though."

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"You weren't trying to get somewhere specific?"

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"No? I was in a magic."

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"What sort of magic, though."

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"In a gully?"

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". . . Okay."

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"Do you have multiple kinds of magics here, I thought they were about all the same."

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"I'm pretty sure there's just the one kind.  But magic items themselves are different from each other, obviously, and not usually in ways that have much to do with whether they're in gullies."

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"Oh! Yeah, I was in an entire magic, not just going through a magic item somebody pulled out."

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"You were . . . doing magic, in such a way that it somehow transported you somewhere you'd never heard of?"

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"No, I was in a magic, and found a door and went through it."

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"How were you in magic?  - 'A' magic."

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"I jumped in."

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"Not 'how did you get in'."

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"...then I don't think I understand the question." She adjusts her hold on the teapot she's clutching.

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He puzzles for a moment, idly doing a few more stitches on his project.

"I like your hair.  What makes it do that?"

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"The magic. I got really lucky, didn't I?"

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". . . Did you?"

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"...well, my baby turned into a teapot, but other than that."

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"What?"

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"I brought her with me when I jumped in. And she turned into a teapot. I just have rainbow hair."

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"I'm so sorry."

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"Thank you."

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"Also that sounds nothing like how magic works as far as I have ever heard of."

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"...I thought it was the same everywhere but I don't know much."

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"I thought so too.  People get different ideas for items based on what's around them, of course, but at the core . . ."

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"Guess that means I can't keep trying putting the baby in different magics to see if she turns back."

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"We might be able to make something that does it.  Or - you checked to make sure there's nothing on her, right?  Lots of things you have to be wearing for them to work - "

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"She wasn't wearing anything when I jumped. And now she's a teapot."

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"Right, but there's not a little piece of embroidery inside her or something, you checked?"

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"I think this goes way past embroidery!"

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"Embroidery can do a lot.  I think you should check."

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She takes the lid off the teapot and peeks inside. "Empty."

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"Well.  We still might be able to make something."

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"That would be real good!"

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He nods.  "What else do you need?"

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"Food."

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"I can get you some food.  Want to come back to my place?"

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"Sure, thanks, mister. My name's Rabka."

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"Hi, Rabka; I'm Aiu."  He pronounces it like 'I-you'.  "Did you want to wait for me to finish up here or are you pretty hungry."

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"I'm pretty hungry but if you're in the middle of something I don't want to be too pushy, it's not like she can nurse when she's a teapot."

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"It's not anything important; we can head out."  He goes off to set the embroidery somewhere; standing up, it's more obvious that he's not very tall and that he has - something - around his neck.  It's made of a dozen or two fabrics, all in gold and all wildly different textures, in an abstract irregular cone-ish inverted-pyramid-ish shape, and hangs at the middle of his chest.

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"Neat, uh, necklace."

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"Thanks!" he says, gesturing for her to follow him out.  "It's my charm.  - Do people not have those where you're from or do you just not have yours with you?"

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"I've never seen anything like it."

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"Do you have stuffed animals or security blankets for kids?  Magic ones."

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"I'm sure some rich person has pulled a ragdoll out of a magic and lets their kid squeeze it to make it sing the Seven Etudes or something but I never saw one." She flicks her earring self-consciously.

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"Oh.  Here we make ones for pretty much everyone.  They do physical protection, mostly, and sometimes more frivolous stuff like what you mentioned, and then when you grow up you swap it out for something a little more mature and personalized.  Most people's are made with the material from the ones they had as kids but mine isn't."

They approach the exit; there aren't any sturdy walls but there are broader cloth ones than the panels.  Aiu waves at the person behind the counter on the way out.

Despite the sunbeams streaming inside, once they pass the entry flap it's much darker.  In fact, they don't seem to be outside at all; it looks like they're in another tent.  This one is all solid fabric, in indigos and warm purples and lazy swirls of cozy yellow-orange.  There's enough light to walk by once their eyes adjust, coming from diffuse patterned lanterns hung here and there.

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"Everything's so fabricky."

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". . . . . Yep.  What are you used to instead?"

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"Buildings made of... wood? Or rocks?"

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"Have you figured out how to sew stone and wood somehow or do you just not have magic buildings?"

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"We don't have magic buildings. Do you have a magic somewhere that's - um - domesticated, or -"

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"You keep saying 'a magic' and normally I wouldn't risk someone thinking I was making fun of them by pointing out a phrasing quirk, but maybe you should explain what exactly you mean by that."

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"...a magic is a place where whatever goes in it has magic happen to it? Like me and the baby, we went into a magic and now I have rainbow hair and she's a teapot."

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"We don't have any of those.  Magic is something you do, or make, with a purpose in mind."

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"That sounds so convenient."

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"It definitely seems like it by comparison."

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"And you think you could fix Cathei?"

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"Yeah."

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"Can you do it soon so I can still feed her?"

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"How soon would that have to be?"

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"I'm not sure how long it takes milk to stop. I was hungry enough to try drinking some myself but I'm not as good at that as Cathei is."

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"Well, I'll try to get it as soon as possible, then."

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"Thank you! Um, I know how to latch-hook rugs? If that's useful?"

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"I don't think I've heard of that style, but maybe?  Are they magic - no, you said it's just the places, right?"

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"Yeah, no, I don't know how to make them magic at all. But... I do have a latch hook on me?"

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"Well, maybe you'll have a head start and be able to do lots of magic right away now that you're here!"

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"What can magic rugs even do?"

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"Mostly stay very clean.  Some of them can fly; I think there are ones that do environmental things but inside the city we mostly do those with the tents."  They exit the purple tent and are in a moonlit field surrounded by a forest, crickets chirping merrily around them - nope they're still in a tent.  The top of this one looks like a realistic sky complete with clouds shifting in the breeze.  Aiu heads for another tent pitched inside it rather than the exit.  "And lots of them roll up smaller than they lay out, things like that."

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"Oh. What kind of fabric turns teapots into babies again?"

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"It's not really the type of fabric that matters most."  He fiddles a bit with his necklace.  "I was thinking maybe something that you put on as a tea cozy, that works as a hat after it turns her baby-shaped."

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"Would she turn into a teapot again without her hat?"

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". . . I think I won't be able to tell that until I start actually working on it, at the earliest."

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"Huh. Okay. Well, having to wear a hat isn't so bad but it will need to still fit when she's older."

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"I can make sure it grows with her."

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"Aww, neat."

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"Though if she decides she hates how it looks as she grows up it'll be easier to make a replacement; the first item of a kind is always the hardest."  They reach the next tent; this one's raining inside.  It fails to get them wet.

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"Why's the first hardest?" She waves an arm curiously through the fail-rain.

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The drops appear to hit her arm and bounce off.  It doesn't feel like anything when they do.

"Well, if you know there's an item that works a certain way, then you don't have to doubt that it's possible to make something that does that at all, because it's right there doing it already.  - Of course, that's only if you know it exists; there could be dozens of 'first' versions of an item across the globe.  But I just don't see somebody trying to make this particular thing again without having heard of the one I'm going to do."

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"And probably if you don't have magics nobody else is being turned into things like teapots."

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"Not that I or - anyone I know has ever heard of."  Walk walk.  "I could look it up when we get to my place."

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"Okay. Why is there a fake rain tent?"

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"Why wouldn't there be?  It's nice to have weather sometimes."

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"It seems kind of silly! And it doesn't feel like rain. Couldn't you just go outside?"

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"I don't think it's allowed for there to be weather that can actually make people uncomfortable in the big tents that lots of us have to walk through; there are other places you could go for rain that gets you wet.  And it seems kind of over-the-top to go all the way outside for weather when you can just have it in places you're already going to be!"

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"Do you just never go outside?"

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"Way more times than never!  Just not often."

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"Wow. I'm used to being outside like... most of the time."

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"That sounds annoying.  There's bugs outside!  And actual inconvenient weather.  I guess if your buildings weren't magic it wouldn't seem that much worse."

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"Buildings are stuffy and dark!"

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"I guess if buildings were like that I would like being outside-outside too.  But we can do better than the real thing; you saw what the cloth shop was like and that's inside."

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"Yeah, it was super neat."

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"Thanks!  I mean I didn't make it but I'm glad you like it here."  Next tent: similar to the overtly-fabricky lantern one but with more focus on the warm side of the color palette and the occasional streak of vivid blue.  It has lots of smaller tents inside instead of a few big ones, and she can still hear the rain pattering on the outside of it.  Somehow it has that extra-cozy feeling of going someplace warm after having been out in bad weather even though she wasn't at all cold or wet in the previous one!

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"Ooooh, this one is kind of - snuggly."

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"Yeah!  That's the rain, it isn't like this all the time.  But it's usually pretty nice one way or another; I like living here.  - My place is that one," he says, pointing to (presumably one member of) a cluster of tents a ways away.

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"It's like a maze in here, it must be hard to learn your way around - I mean, probably not for you if you grew up here -"

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"I guess it would seem that way!  I can probably get you a map or something, if you're worried about it."

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"How do you even map it? There's stuff inside stuff!"

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"Well, ideally with magic, though I'm sure there's a cheaper way to do it if you're clever.  - Probably you should just get a pocket; then you'd be able to pull one out for wherever you were, even if it wouldn't do folding layers like the actual embroidered ones."

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"...a pocket. A magic pocket, presumably."

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"Yeah!  'Innernet pocket' if you want to be specific.  They're all connected to each other; people put stuff in theirs and then anyone else can take out the pattern of it from their own.  And maps are the sort of thing that people have definitely put in there."

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"The pattern?"

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"I can show you when we get inside - you keep a certain kind of fabric and thread in it and then it assembles itself into whatever you were looking for when you pull it out."

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"That sounds so weird! Is that how all this is made?"

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"No, we haven't figured out how to get them to do anything much more complex than what you can write on a page yet.  They're getting better all the time!  But this was all people."

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"Write on a page?"

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"Well, or draw."

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"I just don't think I get the - whole concept."

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"I can show you that in a minute, too.  Do you not have paper, or is something else the confusing part?"

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"I don't have any on me? It exists. I just don't know what exactly the magic is doing - maybe showing me will make it make sense."

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"Sure!" he chirps, and before too long they're at the cluster he indicated.  One of the flaps opens with a wave of his hand as they approach; inside, the rain isn't audible until with another wave it is.  The comfy feeling starts up again with the patter.

Rabka may have already guessed that the tents she's gone through are all bigger on the inside than the out, but it was hard to be certain at such large scales and in the dim.  With one merely house-sized, it's much easier to tell that this is much more spacious than could possibly have fit in the silhouette she saw.

"You said you were pretty hungry, right?" asks Aiu.  "Do you want at the sandwiches now or should I make something more hearty?"

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"I want at the sandwiches! I don't know what one is but if you can eat it I want it!"

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"Here you go."  He hands her a piece of stiff embroidered fabric folded into a packet.  Inside is some meat and a savory sort of vegetable paste between two crusts of bread, sliced diagonally.

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CHOMP

"Mmm," she manages around a mouthful.

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He pours her some water, too.  The glass is just a glass but the pitcher has its exterior covered in felt with flowing blue designs sewn into it.

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Probably that's magic in some way, maybe makes the water safe to drink. "Where do you get water if you barely go outside?"

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"We just make it, usually."

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"You can do that with magic fabric too?"

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"Mmhm!  Even if you're very very thirsty I'm not going to have to go refill the pitcher or anything."

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"Oh, is that what it's doing, I thought it was to make the water safe."

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". . . Well I don't think anybody would make one that made unsafe water, so, sort of?"

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"I guess!" She's not as thirsty as she is hungry. The sandwich is super gone.

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"If you fold the cloth back up it'll make another sandwich in a couple minutes."

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"Wow!" Fold fold.

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"It must be so inconvenient to have to always make sure you have food on hand.  I mean, this only does the one sandwich, so it's not great for variety, but even if I get really caught up in things and realize I have an empty cupboard, I don't ever have to go out when I'm really tired and hungry."

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"My owner usually fed me before I jumped in the magic but this is really tasty."

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"Your . . . hm?"

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"Oh, um, we're slaves."

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"What's a slave?"

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"Somebody with an owner."

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". . . I don't know what that means either.  But it's good you had somebody else to worry about food most of the time?"

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"...I guess that was an advantage."

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He doesn't really seem to know what to do with that.  Some light glints off one of the beads on the sandwich wrap, which looks like it's full again.

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om nom nom nom

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She can eat in peace for a bit.  Then - "Oh, I was going to show you pockets."

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"You were!"

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"Mmhm!  So - "  He gestures to a flat pouch with a vertical slit in the middle attached at his waist.  "You can pull pretty much anything out of here.  I mean, as long as it's information; I couldn't make a peach or something and have it be edible.  So, let's see, I was going to look if anyone had mentioned magic places like you have, and if I were really doing this instead of for an example I'd go about it differently, but for now I'm just going to grab something random that has the phrase 'a magic' at the end of a sentence."

He reaches in and pulls out a shiny rectangle of deep blue fabric with a flourish; the cloth stiffens into a board of sorts with a flick of his wrist.  Embroidered on it in yellow-gold thread is:

Hi innernet
Today I am lerning how to put things in pokits and the inernet.  The inernet is usefull when I grow up I want to make usefuller things.  I am going to be a very good seemster and make a magic.
love, Ematt

The 'handwriting' is sloppy but the embroidery itself would be quite skilled if there was a person behind it; it handles line thicknesses and irregular curves gracefully and without gaps.  There are also some lopsided stars and hearts decorating the 'page'.

"Awwww, okay, so this is why I would go about it differently, otherwise you get stuff like this, but hopefully you get the idea."

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"I can't really read."

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"Oh.  Well, it's just some kid who doesn't have grammar all the way down yet, not anything about your sorts of places."

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"Huh, interesting. And I can get a map this way?"

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"Probably!  They might rely a lot on words, though.  Let me do a little digging around."  With another gesture, the fabric softens again and gets replaced in the pocket.  Aiu pulls out and looks at a few more things, all in the same color scheme and most of them in list format, before asking, "If I tell you what to get, do you want to try pulling it out yourself?"

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"You'll have to tell me what to do besides reaching in and grabbing but sure!"

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"That's most of it, plus intending for it to be a certain thing when it comes out.  If you're searching for something you aren't sure exists it can get kind of complicated, but in this case you really just have to want - " he checks the rectangle - "'Zenmenvork Je's map of Ganza, Flannel contents'.  And as long as you have an idea of 'that thing Aiu just said', it doesn't matter whether you remember the words perfectly."  He replaces the cloth in the pocket.

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"Oh, good, because I don't think I remember the first word at all." She reaches in.

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Blank fabric comes out!

" - Huh."

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"What'd I do wrong?"

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"I don't know!  Try it again?  - Maybe you need to have more faith; magic doesn't work just because you believe it will but it never does if you don't have enough confidence in it.  That only applies when making items as far as I've ever heard, not using ones that already exist, but maybe since you're from far away . . ."

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"I mean, I saw you do it, it worked for you." She tries again.

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Blank.  "More faith in yourself, maybe?  - Or it could just not exist; I didn't try it."  He takes the fabric back, replaces it, pulls out a map of nested ovals.

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"Maybe the magic made me unable to use embroidered pockets. But the sandwich worked."

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"The sandwich did work.  Strange."

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She tries a couple more times.

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Nothing.

"Hmm.  - Oh, of course!  The sandwich wrap just makes a sandwich when it's in a certain position; it would still work even if the wind blew it that way.  I wonder if you'd be able to operate something that needs a person but that you don't have to think at to use.  But probably you want me to get started on the tea cozy instead of testing that right now."

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"I would really appreciate the tea cozy." She pats her teapot child.

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"I'll get started on it.  But I should show you around a little first - I guess you wouldn't know about interrupting seamsters.  It's hard to interrupt people who are working on a big sewing project, and unpleasant for them, and you should avoid it when you can."

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"Okay, I won't bother people who are sewing."

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"You can if it's important!  And should.  It's only that, well, I'll be doing a day's worth of work in an hour for several hours, without needing to eat or rest during that time, and it kind of catches up with you once you stop.  So we should make sure that you're set up to be okay on your own for a while before I start."

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"Okay. I know where to get food and water, I guess I should know where to sleep? Where to pee?"

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"Yep.  The bathroom's this way."  He walks to a curtained-off area and describes how to use the appliances therein.  "And you can sleep in my hammock, over in this room; I have some pretty comfortable rugs I could curl up on if I finish while you're asleep.  You dim the light like this," he demonstrates, working a slider on the base of a flameless lantern.

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"Cool! Thank you so much."

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"You're welcome!  Do you need anything to not be bored?  Pointing you at my bookshelf wouldn't help very much . . ."

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"Will singing bother you while you sew?"

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"No, it shouldn't even carry if you do it in a separate room."

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"I can sing, then. And nap."

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"Great!  Goodnight.  Sort of."

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"Goodnight! Thank you so much!"

And she will sing and eat sandwiches and drink water and sleep in his hammock.

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His hammock is soooooooo comfortable.  It is magically comfortable.  It is the most comfortable she has ever been.  She might have needed fewer hours of sleep in it?  It's hard to tell; in any case she wakes up very well-rested.

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And her host is, as predicted, curled up with a blanket and a pillow on one of the softer rugs.

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Is Cathei in a teacozy yet?

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Nope.  There's something white and with lots of layers of very fine, perfectly-even ruffles and cute embroidery in pastel colors sitting out on one of the tables, though.

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Adorable. She doesn't touch it, just gets up and materializes herself a sandwich for breakfast. She will probably eventually get tired of this sandwich but not yet.

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After a bit, the sound of her moving about is enough to wake him.  He sits up without immediately saying anything.

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"Morning!"

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"Good morning."  His voice sounds different, gruffer, after just having woken up.  "I finished your tea cozy."  He nods in the direction of the frilly thing.

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"Does it work like the pocket, because if it does I don't think I should be the one to put it on her."

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"It should work for you.  Even if it doesn't it won't hurt to have tried."

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"Okay, if you're sure." She cozies the teapot.

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The result: a baby!  In a bonnet.

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"Hello my little dumpling," coos Rabka, and she puts the baby on her breast before she's even drawn breath to cry.

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"Thank you so so so so much! If there is ANYTHING I can do for you I will super do it."

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"I'll keep that in mind."  He gets up, starts heading over to get himself some water.  "Do you need anything else, now?"

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"Just for her to finish eating. I hope she's not hungry from not eating when she was a teapot. I guess if you don't want her to pee on the carpet she should be wearing something."

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". . . I can make something for that.  In a moment."  He sips at his water.

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"Oh, yeah, you probably have magic nappies."

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"Yes.  And making one will be faster than going and getting one or improvising something, from your perspective."

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"From my perspective?"

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"I spent multiple days making your bonnet, from my perspective.  From yours and the world's, four hours."

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"Wow, that sounds... pretty yikes!"

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"'Yikes'?"

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"Like it would suck? You must be exhausted."

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"I just slept."

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"After four days! But thank you so much." She pets her baby, who waves her tiny arm.

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- He seems like he's about to say something but gets distracted watching Cathei.

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Rabka is petting her downy hair and singing a lullaby.

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He keeps watching for a moment, then goes off to make the nappy.  He's done before she finishes the song.

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Then she will get the nappy on before Cathei pees on anything! "There you go, li'l squishy-squash."

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"...you probably don't want us to keep living here forever, do you. I'm not sure where we should be going though?"

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"I don't know yet.  You can stay here until I think of something."

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"Thank you. You're so nice."

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"Oh.  You're welcome."

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"Isn't there anything I can do for you?"

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"I don't need any rugs and I don't know what else you can do."

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"I'm good in bed!" she chirps.

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"No thank you."

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"Oh well. If you think of anything though."

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"I will let you know."

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She resumes singing to her baby.

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He listens.

In a pause between songs, after a few of them, he notes: "It's not the same as if I stayed up for four days doing something that wasn't sewing.  You shouldn't factor it into how much you owe me as if it was."

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"...okay, but you still got my baby back for me and that's still really important."

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"I did you a great service, yes.  But the cost to me was not great."

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"Okay." She kisses Cathei's head.

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Cute.

"What materials would you need to determine whether your rugs are magic?"

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"I mean, they never have been before, but yarn and a canvas grid?"

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"If most things aren't magic where you come from, they might be when made here.  But what do you do with the yarn?  Most things done with yarn aren't magic; it's only sewing."

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"You cut the yarn up into pieces yea long and then you tuck one into the hook and tuck the hook into the grid and pull so the yarn is tied on."

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"I can't tell from that description whether I expect it to work or not.  Could you make the right sort of grid given canvas?"

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"Probably but maybe not well? I hadn't learned to do that part yet."

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"I could get you canvas if you wanted to try.  Or other materials for more traditional sewing.  Seamsters make good money."

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"I could learn to sew probably!"

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". . . Other things also make good money, presumably, if you don't already know how."

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"I can do very basic sewing but I've been mostly doing rugs since I was little. I can spin?"

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"We figured out how to make machines do that a few decades ago.  But if you've been making rugs that long, we should check both whether that style of rugmaking is magic and whether you are.  Experience is an important part of skill."

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"Okay. I can try making a grid. Do I need to be magic to make magic rugs, is that how it works? I have the hair."

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"You have the hair and couldn't use the pocket.  We'll have to see."

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"Okay. Is there a pattern I should use or should I just make something up?"

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"I don't already have a pattern for a form of rugmaking I had never previously heard of, no."

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"I didn't even know there was another way to do them! How do you do rugs here?"

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"I usually do it by braiding strips of cloth and sewing those into a spiral, with embroidery on top if I need it to be more powerful in any respect.  It's a good way to make use of scraps.  I think other people sometimes just cover an entire large piece of fabric with embroidery, for the flying ones."

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"Well, mine're tufty and fuzzy and nice to sink your feet into."

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"Then they will probably be quite popular if they work."

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"How do you aim at making a rug do something?"

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"You have to believe that it should do the thing you want it to, that it's obvious it should behave that way.  For more complicated effects, it naturally takes more effort to convince yourself, which is why they need more details and skill to function.  It's not entirely faith, of course; even the most bravado-filled novice can't pull off things an expert could, but it's the most important thing to focus on if you already know what to do with the physical aspects."

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"Well, I can try it. Maybe with a small one to start."

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"As long as you can believe a small one would work.  I should do one alongside you, given that there are two factors potentially in play."

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"I only have one latch-hook."

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"Then I should watch you and try it once you've finished."

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"Okay. Where do you get canvas?"

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"There might be some here already."  He rummages and comes up with about half a yard.

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"I'd need, like, the thread - I guess I can make this work maybe -" She starts fiddling with it, trying to nudge fibers apart till she gets latch hook sized holes between.

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Thread is rather in abundance; she can take her pick.

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If there is glue, too, she can through a combination of weaving and stickiness get appropriately spaced canvas fibers to stay in a grid, and then cut up some yarn in a pretty color and start latch-hooking it on once the glue is dry.

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There's less glue than thread, but enough for her to work with.

"- I don't expect that will work with holes and yarn of those sizes," he determines.  "You can try it, or I could go find some very thick yarn."

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"Why wouldn't it work like this?"

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"It's just an instinct, but - I think the yarn and the holes have to be close enough in size that the yarn would stay in them even if you didn't knot it.  Otherwise it doesn't seem very much like sewing."

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"Huh. I could probably still fit the latch-hook in a finer grid, but not that much finer."

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"And will thicker yarn fit on the hook?"

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"Yeah, as long as it's not huge."

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"Would you like to stay here or go with me to find some?"

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"I'll come! It'll be easier if you have something I can use as a sling for the baby."

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A sling can be arranged, and then they can go outside.  It's a different color scheme there now, dominantly soft blues with darker greys fading towards the exit.

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"It changed color! I wonder what would happen if you embroidered something with my hair..."

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"It would be interesting to see.  Do you control it, or does it all happen on its own?"

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"All on its own. If it's moving around it changes more? So if I shake my head it'll go through colors faster, but I don't pick which ones."

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"Have you noticed whether it keeps doing that after it falls out?"

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"No, I've only had it a couple days."

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"Reasonable."

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"I don't wanna yank a lotta hair out but I could pull one." She does. It keeps changing color.

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"I can keep ahold of that, if you'd like me to try out something later."

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"Sure!" She hands it over.

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He pockets it on the opposite hip from his innernet one.

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And she follows him, admiring the pretty surroundings.

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The surroundings are so pretty!  The rain one is still drizzling lightly, and smells like springtime; the field is mostly sunny now but retains the clouds - realistic except perhaps in their beauty - on one side.  Birdsong comes from the 'forest' at its edges instead of the crickets.  The other fabricky one is still mostly purple, but more on the lavender and periwinkle range, and with its lanterns unlit.

And there are people around, now, too.  As a whole, they're wearing a mix of tightly-coordinated outfits in unusual fashions and more casual clothes.  A fair number of people are dressed mostly plainly but with one or two egregiously magic articles.  More of them are wearing veils than Rabka might be used to, across both genders.

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"Are the veils magic?" she asks Aiu.

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" - Yep!  Some people need them to see better."

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"Coooool. You do practically everything with magic.""

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"I can't imagine what we'd do without it!  Is there anything for people who can't see well where you're from?"

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"I... don't think so."

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"Well that's no good.  We can get you one if you think you need it.  Or if you don't; there are ones that make you see better even if you don't see worse than other people to begin with."

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"I don't know if other people see better than me but it would be interesting to try one!"

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He nods.  "They're fun, even if not enough for me to want to wear one all the time."  They walk past the tent she started in last night and into one a few down from it; it's much less fancy inside than the cloth shop but does contain lots and lots of primarily non-sewing craft materials.  The tent itself is, on the inside, bigger than a lot of barns, and it's packed densely with supplies.  Aiu leads the way to the yarn section, pausing to look at things here and there along the way.

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"Wowwww, this is so much stuff. I've never seen anywhere with so much stuff."

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"It's neat, isn't it?"

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"Yeah! Best jumping in a magic result ever."

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He laughs; they approach the yarn section.

There's a whole lot of yarn, in lots of colors and textures and sizes.  There is also, conspicuously, a nearly-empty section where it looks like yarn of a chunkiness reasonable for this project ought to be.

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"People don't make this kind or somebody cleared the place out?"

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"I think the second one."  He heads off and finds someone who works there.  "Hello, was there a big rush on thicker yarn here recently?"

     "Sure was, someone's mannequin came in and bought all of it.  I think she might have been confused, but she had enough money and managed to carry it all out, so we let her take it.  I'm honestly expecting most of it to be returned pretty shortly, if you're looking for some, or we'll get more in eventually."

" - Huh.  I don't suppose she was kind of tall, long dark hair, bangs, visible stitching in places . . . ?"

     "That sounds like her!  Any idea whether her seamster really wanted all that?"

"No clue, sorry.  Thanks for your help."

    "S'what I'm here for."

Aiu returns a smile and motions for Rabka to follow him to the tent's exit.

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"What's a mannequin?"

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"A sewn construct in the shape of a person!  Some of them are people themselves but not very many.  I think they started out as just being for modeling clothes in shops, but there's a lot more variety now; some people send theirs on errands."

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"And you know who bought all the big yarn?"

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"I think so!  Want to go meet them?"

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"Sure!"

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"Great.  - Can I ask you a favor?"

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"'Course you can!"

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"I'd appreciate if you didn't mention to anyone that I de-teapotted your baby."

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"...okay, no problem. How come?"

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He thinks for a moment before answering.

 

"Most people don't know I'm good enough at magic to.  It's kind of a secret," he settles on.

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"Okay. Nobody has to know she was ever a teapot."

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"Thanks."  They're out of the store and heading back to the entrance.  "It'll be nice for you to meet the Tals even if I'm wrong about who bought the yarn; they're . . . I can't actually think of a description that fits both of them well.  But you should meet more people around here anyway besides just, uh, me."

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"Uh-huh! Since it seems like I live here now."

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"It does."  Walking walking.  They go through several tent flaps and two things which are not those at all; they look a bit more like conventional doorways, though rounder.  The first one takes them to a big hub area with lots of those and the second to a tent that looks more like the other places she's been in, though it's nighttime there.  One of the tents they go through is snowing.  The flakes are tangible but merely pleasantly crisp, temperature-wise.

After not too terribly long, they come to another tent with smaller ones scattered across it, like the one Aiu's home is in.  He approaches one with lacelike black-on-black embroidery and rings a bell, which, being fabric, is silent.

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After a moment, someone opens the flap.  "Hello?  - Hi, Aiu, nice to see you.  Who's this?"

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"Hi, I'm Rabka!"

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"Nice to meet you.  Whatcha here for?"

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"We were wondering if Emira was in and up."

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"I think she is."  She absently scoops up a cat as it contemplates slipping outside.  "Care to come in or should I see if I can grab her?"

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"Coming in would be nice, thank you."

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"Sure."  She holds the tent flap for them and goes off to the next room, gesturing at some chairs they could sit in on her way.  The interior is less uniformly black than the outside, though it's still not in very bold colors.  This room's done in a pale purple, far too much on the gray side to be considered pastel.  There are lots of strange knickknacks on the shelves standing around the room.  The chairs, when sat in, seem likely to be magically nice to sit on, but not in a very cozy way.  They're more . . . secure, or stable, than traditionally comfortable.

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An interesting choice but Rabka's not complaining. The baby fusses and Rabka feeds her.

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Someone comes and offers them a tray of snacks.  She passes for human at first, but when she gets close enough it becomes clear that her skin is fabric and her hair is made of a few varieties of chunky textured yarn, mostly dark but with streaks of bold purple.  There are black stitches on her neck and arms in a few places, though they seem to be decorative rather than structural.  Her shirt has a short block of text embroidered on the side of her chest in bright red.

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Gives new meaning to "embroidered", doesn't it. "Hi." Mmm snacks.

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"Uhhhh.  Hi."

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"I'm Rabka, what's your name?"

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"Uh, Quinn."

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"Hi Quinn, it's nice to meet you. Thanks for the food."

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"Yeah."  She sets the food and walks off.

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"Thanks, Quinn!" Aiu calls after her in between bites of snack.

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And after a moment, a very pale teenager or preteen walks into the room, followed by the woman who greeted them at the door, and perches on a stool in the corner.

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"Hi!  Oh, so, Rabka, this is Piae," which he pronounces like 'P. A.', "and Emira," which he pronounces like 'Emira'.  "Piae, Emira; Rabka."

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She nods a subdued greeting.

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"It's nice to meet you," says Rabka again.

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"Quinn's new wig looks nice."

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- She snorts.

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"Was there by any chance some sort of hijinks with that?  We went to Mych's and they were all out of the size of yarn we needed; it sounded like it might have been Quinn."

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She turns to Piae.

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"Beaded stars, there were definitely hijinks.  Was that literally their entire stock?  - Can I interest you in some groceries, too; she picked up way more than we have room to deal with.  And about four dozen pairs of scissors."

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" - Were you going to use those for something, E?  Not the scissors, I guess."

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Who's E, Rabka wonders, munching a snack.

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"We'll take the yarn and groceries you don't want.  Or at least some of it."

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"Much appreciated.  So, Rabka, what's your deal; how do you two know each other?"

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"We just met yesterday! He gave me a sandwich."

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"Did you . . . need?  A sandwich?"

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"Yeah, I was really really hungry."

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"Oh.  Good you got one, then, I guess."

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"Rabka's from really far away," notes Aiu.  "So she didn't know anywhere to get food around here."

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"Oh?  Where?"

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"Dorvil?"

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"Don't think I've ever heard of Dorvil.  What country's that in?"

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"Andeme."

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" - Come again?"

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"...Andeme. Is the country. It borders... uh... Salandar?"

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" . . . I've never heard of either of those, and I'm pretty darn sure I've heard of all the countries.  Back me up on this, E, there's just the fourteen, right?"

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Emira nods as she makes her way out of the room.

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"I don't know how many there are."

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"Do you know the names of any others?"

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"...E...seo? Corlar. Dosatu."

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"Okay, so you're from really far away, got it.  Uh, how did you get here?"

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"I jumped in a magic. Aiu thinks you don't have those here though."

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"It's apparently a sort of place where things that go into it become magic, basically at random.  That's why her hair's like that; it's not an artefact."

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"Oh cool - " starts Piae.

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She's interrupted by the return of Emira, who's wearing something across the bottom half of her face.  She pelts a smallish black fabric object at Aiu, tosses one to Piae, and sets one down on the stand next to where Rabka's sitting before circling back to her stool.

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"Oh," says Aiu, and after a pause covers his face too.

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"- what's going on?"

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"I didn't fully realize, because suddenly appearing in my grandfather's cloth shop isn't how most people end up here, but - anytime someone comes to this continent, they have to wear a mask for five days - "

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Emira holds her hand up with her thumb and index and middle fingers splayed.

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" - Three days?"

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Nod.

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"Is that just because masks in general have gotten better?"

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Nod nod.

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"Well, for three days, because different places have different diseases and otherwise a lot of people could get sick.  . . . I don't know what the policy is for babies."

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"Oh." She puts the mask on and looks dubiously at Cathei. "I don't think she's sick? I don't think I'm sick either though."

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"There's probably a reason the rule is for everyone even though most people aren't sick very often."

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Emira pulls a black piece of fabric with red lettering on it out of her pocket, stiffens it into a board with the same wrist flourish that Aiu did with his, looks it over, and hands it to him.

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He reads it.  "Huh.  I guess the arrivals outpost has baskets with netting available instead.  Since we've already been outside it's probably not - "

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Emira snaps her fingers, with her hand down at her side rather than in the direction of anything in particular.  Quinn re-enters the room and obligingly ducks down to have her ear whispered in, then strides outside.

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". . . Or Quinn could go get one."

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"I can't keep her in a basket for days! She needs to eat."

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"It's not for all the time!  Just when you're out and about and - " he consults the pattern Emira handed him, " - for a total of at least a third of the time over three days.  I assume they're higher-tier items than the masks since there doesn't need to be quite so as many of them and babies are so delicate and important."

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"I guess she can sleep in a magic basket."

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"Good."  He passes the pattern back to Emira, who de-boards and re-pockets it.  "Say, have either of you heard of someone not being able to use pockets?  Rabka can take the fabric out of them but it was always blank."

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Emira looks at Piae and subtly points towards the tent's entrance, a gesture clearly intended for an audience of one, though not hidden from the room's other occupants.

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"Quinn used to have that problem, actually.  I'm not sure what exactly E did to fix it . . ."

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Emira points at Aiu, more overtly, then pats the back of her own right shoulder.

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Aiu mirrors the second gesture before realization dawns on him.  " - Oh, a tattoo?"

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She nods.

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"I don't follow."

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"Probably a talented enough tattoo artist could make you able to use pockets."

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"Tattoos are magic too?"

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"All sewing is magic."

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"I didn't think tattoos were sewing!"

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"What . . . else . . . would they be?"

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"They don't leave thread, right? They just - poke you and there's ink -?"

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". . . No, there's definitely thread - "  He shrugs out of his jacket-outershirt-thing and turns his back to her, pushing aside the strap of his tanktopish-thing to reveal - yep, that's embroidery done in his skin.  It's of sort of an abstract 3d puzzle, partially complete but with most of the pieces falling in a cascade down his back, the lower ones disappearing behind his undershirt.

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"Whoa, weird. I don't think they do those where I'm from."

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"They're probably less of a good idea when they aren't magically durable and can't heal themselves after they're put in - gosh, what do you folks do when people get big cuts, if you can't just stitch them up?"

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"...bandages?"

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"We have those too, but they're mostly used for smaller wounds, I think, and pain relief."

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"Ours don't do pain relief."

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"Does anything else, or . . ."

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"...beer?"

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"Darn."

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"I mean, I didn't have any beer even when I had Cathei and it was fine?"

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" - Yikes.  Uh, E is a treasure and a gem and my life's thread, and a prodigy who's going to revolutionize the frontier of sewing, and I can't imagine life without her and all that sappy stuff - but if I'd thought ahead of time that I was going to have to have her without painkillers she probably would not exist.  Sorry kiddo."  She reaches over to ruffle Emira's hair, who ducks partially out of the way so Piae's hand connects with her shoulder instead.  Piae seems not at all surprised and ruffles that instead; Emira seems to find that satisfactory.

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"How would you do that?"

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"Well, there's magic for it."

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"Oh, of course, how silly of me."

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"Well, you're not really used to thinking of this.  . . . But you said you were fine; maybe it's just not as bad where you're from?  Or maybe you somehow have something that handles pain without knowing about it."

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"I mean, it hurt, but then I had a baby, and she's very good."

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"She does seem it!"

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"Do you want to hold her?"

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"Yes."

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Rabka hands over Cathei.

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Piae holds her and coos until Quinn returns with a padded, mesh-draped basket.

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"Does she need to go in right away since she hasn't been in it yet?"

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Emira signs something to her mother.

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"Be polite."  To Rabka: "Not right away, but before you head out and, yeah, just at least a third of the time over the next three days."

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"What did she - gesture?"

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"'Not now that we've already been exposed.'  You didn't know though, don't worry about it.  - Uh, but have you talked to anyone else besides us."

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"No."

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"Okay so that's good then, we've all got our masks and baskets and none of us will get sick."  She passes Cathei back to Rabka.

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Cathei dives for a boob and gets it.

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Emira ducks out and returns shortly with a black canvas tote bag full of chunky yarn.

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Aiu reaches into his non-innernet pocket and exchanges a haphazard handful of embroidered needlefelt coins for the bag.  "Thanks!  For the yarn, mask- and basket-fetching, and hospitality.  To you too, Quinn."

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"Uhhhh.  Yeah."

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"Mm-hm, thanks so much!"

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"Do you want to head back to my place and maybe teach me your kind of rugmaking?  Or get some food that isn't that same sandwich, look for a tattoo artist, go for a walk, find a tent with a neat environmental effect and hang out there . . ." asks Aiu once Cathei has been basketed and the lot of them have made their way outside (or, "outside").

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"Not the same sandwich might be good."

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"Sure!  What are you in the mood for?"

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"Ummmm... roasted goose. I never had it but it always smells great."

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"You got it!"  After Aiu consults a few innernet patterns they can backtrack a little ways and then pass through two new tents (desert and pom-pom themed, respectively) and into one with lots of fabric-enclosed booths selling food!  The closest one has an embroidered sign that cycles between a few depictions of meals accompanied by lines of text; one of them looks gooselike.

"What seasonings do you usually like?"

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"...salt? I was a slave, nobody got me spices."

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"So . . . you want it just plain, then?"

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"No I wanna try spices I just don't know which ones are good."

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"A sample platter, then, if they have one?"

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"Yeah!"

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It transpires they don't have one listed on the menu but are happy to throw a box together for her!  Onion garlic, plum, spicy-hot, red cabbage, and lemon pepper.  Aiu gets a cauliflower beef dish, which he deposits in his storage pocket despite the fact that it absolutely looks like it should not fit.  "Are you still good to walk back to my place or would you like me to carry the baby?"

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"You can hold her if you like but I don't mind, she's little."

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". . . Maybe when we're inside.  I wasn't sure how much my shoes were helping me is all; they're magic."  His magic shoes (which for some reason are part of his pants) presently lead Rabka back to his tent.

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"What do the shoes do?"

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"Well, relevantly, being able to walk around a lot without getting tired.  And a few other things like being durable and not needing to be laundered and letting me jump really high."

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"You have so much cool stuff here."

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"Yeah!  There was a lot less of it until pretty recently but then we figured out how to magically make fabric."

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"With like a magic loom or something?"

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"It started with those, which was a pretty big step, but then there was the question of getting material to weave and eventually we ended up with fabricators, which can duplicate existing material like the sandwich wrap does."

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"Oh, cool! And they make infinite thread?"

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"Nope!  Infinite thread is a different thing.  They do an awful lot of completed fabric, though."

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"How do you weave with completed fabric, do you cut it into strips?"

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"The point is that you don't have to weave it!  You can just get straight to sewing."

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"Once you sew a magic thing can you make infinity of that?"

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"Basically!  It makes sense that it wouldn't work like that, right?  But it does, and it was just people believing that something like that shouldn't be possible that kept it from being so for as long as it did."

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"I don't see why it shouldn't work like that!"

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"I don't actually either; I was born after the first one started working.  But apparently people did for hundreds of years!"

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"Maybe it didn't use to work? And then started somehow?"

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"I guess.  I've never heard of magic itself changing like that, though, instead of people just starting to believe in the right ways."  Here they are again at Aiu's tent.

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When Rabka sits down Cathei wakes up and demands to nurse again. Rabka emboobens her.

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Aiu de-masks and tucks into his beef thing.

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Rabka eats with her free arm while Cathei eats with her whole little self.

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"How do you like the seasonings?"

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"They're super yummy!"

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"I'm glad!"

For the remainder of the meal he eats in silence and occasionally makes a frustrated or exasperated face into his cauliflower, apparently at nothing.

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"Are you okay?"

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" - Yes, sorry, I'm fine."

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"...'kay." She will sing to her baby when she's done eating. Cathei eventually goes back to sleep.

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"When she wakes up may I hold her?"

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"'Course!"

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"I should make her some proper clothes in the meantime.  Any requests for styles or fabrics?"

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"It would be kind of cute if she had an outfit patterned like the teapot she used to be."

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"I don't have fabric that matches already and was planning to make something more quickly than would allow for embroidery.  But I might have something similar, or I could coordinate with the bonnet."

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"Coordinating with the bonnet would also be so cute! Or rainbow so she matches my hair. Or whatever's easy, it's not like she cares."

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"Okay."  He produces a mostly white and a rainbow dress within the hour, both of which at least sort of match the bonnet.

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And Cathei can be re-dressed.

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"You're being so super nice."

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"I guess."

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"Did you want me to show you how to latch hook stuff?"

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". . . Yes."

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"Okay!" The glue on the grid has dried now so she can take a chunk of the thick yarn and squeeze it into her hook and - like so, voila.

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"I see.  Would you like to keep going or should I try now, since you probably can't use most magic."

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"I had to watch it done a few times but I was like three, so maybe you can do it after seeing it just the once!" She hands him the hook.

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He tries it, checking with Rabka to see whether he's doing each step right, and successfully ends up with a clove-hitched segment of yarn!  The next time he skips the checking and puts the yarn on the wrong side of the latch before correcting himself when it fails.

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"Oopsie. Let's unpick that one." Pick pick.

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He does the next one correctly, and the one after that, and then enough more that it becomes clear he's starting to work faster than is nonmagically possible.

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"Wow. You go real fast. I did this every day for years and years and I'm slower than that by a lot."

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" - Mm.  Looks like it's a valid magical medium, then."

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"Cool! What does that... mean? Like, is there anything you can do with it that you couldn't do with what you already had?"

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"Versatility never hurts, and from your perspective if a tattoo does let you use magic then I imagine you'll be better at something you have more experience with."

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"Will I be able to do it super ultra fast?"

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"It's possible."

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"Not everybody who can do magic can do that?"

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"Little children and adults without much experience only go as quickly as they would working on similar non-sewing tasks; the fastest the most powerful seamsters can work is a day per hour.  I don't know whether your previous efforts would already count or how powerful you would be if they did."

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"Well, I guess that'll be exciting to find out. Does it feel like a day, when you do a day in an hour?"

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"It feels like . . . a day of the most engaging and fulfilling work it's possible to do.  It's not really something you can get tired of.  At least while you're doing it."

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"Ooooh."

Cathei yawns awake, and, wonder of wonders, does not immediately nuzzle her mom. Rabka holds her out.

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" - I can hold her?"

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"Yup! Quick, before she gets hungry again!"

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Baaaaaaaaabyyyyyyyyyy.  He takes her.

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She's soft and small and warm!

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She is!!!!!  And she will be held and rocked and lightly bounced until she seems to not want that anymore!

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Eventually she will nuzzle him and Rabka will hold out her arms. "That means she wants milk."

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The baaaaaaaaabyyyyyyyyyy is returned.

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"You like babies, huh?"

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"I guess so."

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"You gonna have some eventually, do you suppose?"

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"I don't - know . . ."

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...welp.

She will sing Cathei a little song rather than risk making his bewildering discomfort any worse.

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"You sing well."

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"Thanks! It's my favorite thing."

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" - Huh.  I think every seamster's favorite thing is sewing."

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"I guess if you're going to feel like you've been doing it for a week every day that's good!"

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"I don't do the full eight hours every day, but yes.  . . . I think I also like flying.  And games."

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"You can fly??"

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"Mm."  He steps back and demonstrates the high-jumpingness of his shoes, and at the peak of his arc the tutu-like bit of golden tulle fanning out from the hem of his jacket flares and he gently floats back to the floor.  "There are tents where anyone can do that, and if I wear these in there I can pretty much fly.  And one can sew wings, of course, but I haven't kept a pair of those yet."

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"Awesome. I wanna fly one day."

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"That's probably achievable if the tattoo works.  I suppose someone else could still carry you if it doesn't."

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"Is the tattoo gonna be expensive?"

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". . . No."

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"Oh, good. - do you know how to do them or are we gonna go to someone else?"

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"Someone else."

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"When?"

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"Whenever you want.  - That is, to go see someone who matches up seamsters with projects.  I don't know any tattoo artists personally."

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"Where'd you get yours?"

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"Elsewhere."

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He does not seem to wanna talk. She will just... nibble on her foods and sing to Cathei, then.

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He'll listen in silence awhile.

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"If you start off at a high enough level you could make your own flying carpet," he eventually suggests.

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"- start off at a high enough level? What's that mean?"

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"Of magical sewing ability.  There are seven.  . . . Or I guess there are eight and one of them is zero, apparently."

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"Is it about how fast you can sew?"

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"And how powerful the items you can make are.  There are a few other things but those two are generally the most important."

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"But you get more levels with practice?"

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"Yep!"

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"Neat!! I will have a flying carpet one day!"

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"If the tattoo works."

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"Yeah, if. Will it hurt?"

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"Mine did a little afterwards.  It won't during; it would be a real problem if people flinched with someone going at them at seamster speeds."

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"- yikes, I hadn't thought of that. It's cool that it won't during though!"

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"Tattoos were invented before pain control was as good as it is but I don't think they were very popular.  - And it's possible to not speed up while sewing, but it takes an extra layer of concentration that you don't necessarily want to count on maintaining while working on a person."

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"Does it feel like something? Speeding up?"

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"I think it's . . . very different than not being sped up, but in a way that's really hard to notice at the time because you're focusing so hard on sewing.  I didn't realize I'd done it, my first time, until afterwards when I looked at a timepiece."

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"I hope I can do magic rugs and be useful."

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"Do you want to go talk to my projects agent about finding someone to do your tattoos?  It's not a far walk; I picked a spot close to them when I decided where to live."

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"Sounds good!" She will put Cathei in the basket to be carried along.

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And indeed only two tents over there's a smaller building-sized one made of patchwork in really disparate styles.

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With a person inside, intently taking notes behind a desk and an opaque veil that shifts through the rainbow rather more regularly than Rabka's hair does.  " - Seamster Aiu," they greet in a low voice.  "And . . . ?"

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"This is Rabka."

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"Nice to meet you!"

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"Likewise.  What can I do for you?"

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"I can't do magic and heard maybe a tattoo could make me able to do magic."

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". . . You . . . can't?"

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"She can't even use pockets!  She's from somewhere very far away and just appeared suddenly."

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"But you expect a tattoo to work?  I mean obviously there's the hair - nice hair, incidentally - "

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"Thank you. I don't know if a tattoo will work or not but it seems worth a try?"

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"Well . . . for a problem that novel I can only recommend Melar Raxoncia; if it's possible I expect she'll manage.  Would you like me to check her availability for a consultation?"

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"I guess so!"

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Aiu's agent procures something that looks like a conch shell with a cluster of embroidered charms dangling off its lower point, selects one of the charms, deposits it in a tiny charm-sized pocket on the shell, and brings the whole device up under their veil.  Their breathing and fabric-rustling go silent all at once, and though their posture is conversational no audible dialogue escapes.  After a few minutes they slot the shell back into its holster in their chair and resume producing sound.

"She's open for a consultation, but not a full walk-in, any time in the next - " they check a sewn display on their desk - "about three and a half hours; I can go into more detail about other times if that doesn't work for you.  Aiu, do you want to see her stitch-for-statch list or are you working in strict cash for this?"

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"I'll take a look at it, at least."  He gets handed a folder and begins scanning through its contents.

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"What's the difference between a consultation and a full walk-in?"

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"In a consultation you can plan out your tattoo but not actually get it done."

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"Oh. Is there usually a lot of planning?"

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"It depends on how picky you are, I think, about both the visual design and what you want it to do.  But the actual appointment is gated on her needing to sleep first, not on how long it will take per se."

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"Huh, okay. Where do we go for consulting her?"

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They produce a card and slide it over to Rabka.

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...she takes it but hands it to Aiu. "I can't read."

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" - Oh.  Well there's an address on it.  If you don't have anyone else to navigate I suppose I could walk you there maybe the day after tomorrow."

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"No, I will," affirms Aiu, not looking up from the file.

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"Aiu's been super helpful."

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"Aww, thanks Rabka."

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"Well you have!"

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"I guess!  - This is kind of a weird stitch-for-statch list."

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"Yes."

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". . . I guess I'll ask her about it in person."

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"Weird how?"

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"Well, for one thing, apparently most of the things on it aren't actually listed here."

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"Like they're secret?"

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"I don't really know."

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"Well, I guess we can ask. Which way do we go?"

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"This way!  Bye Ceffil, thanks for the help."

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"Always a pleasure.  Nice meeting you, Rabka."

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"You too!"

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"Have you given any thought to what you want your tattoo to be like?" asks Aiu as they make their way through variously themed tents.

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"I haven't a clue! I guess a bright color to fit in with my hair?"

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"Probably you'll want to mull it over a bit given that it's going pretty permanently on your body!  And also for the magic; tattoos are enough work to begin with that they usually incorporate a few effects.  Good health or strength or quickness or what have you."

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"Can it make me need less sleep?" she asks, inclining her head toward Cathei.

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"You betcha!  My hammock already does that, actually; it can shave off up to half the time you need for regular sleep.  I usually leave it set to a quarter, though, because it trades off against the extra-rested feeling and that's a good spot where I don't have to smack myself about forgetting to adjust it when I stumble over in sewfall.  . . . The thing where seamsters can work for a really long time means we fall asleep right after and can't really be woken till we're done, that's called sewfall.  And magic can't touch it."

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"Huh, why can't it?"

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"Well, at least no one's sewn anything that can yet."

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"I guess maybe somebody'll invent a way one day. Do you need a sewn thing to do the super fast sewing in the first place?"

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"Not - except for you, I think.  I guess there could be others I hadn't heard of."

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"Magic is so different here."

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"I like it a lot!  But anyways there are definitely tattoos that make you not need regular sleep at all, but I don't know whether Seamster Raxoncia knows how to do them or whether it would be possible to incorporate that into this one or if it would have to be separate."

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"I like sleeping sometimes, I'd just like it to be easier to feed Cathei as often as she needs when she is not a teapot."

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"That makes sense!"

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"I think so too! I guess maybe enchanting her so she didn't need to eat as much might also work but she is too little to pick a tattoo."

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"You could do it with an artefact!  Or, I wonder if there's a way to see whether she gets hungry as a teapot; you could just take off the bonnet every once in a while."

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"Oh, good question."

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"Maybe if you fed her, and took it off for long enough that she'd normally be hungry . . ."

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"Yeah, I'll do that when we're done at the tattoo place."

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"We're almost there; another couple tents.  - Also I should explain how to navigate at some point.  Maybe not right now if you want to think about how you want your tattoo to be instead."

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"I think the tattoo artist might know better than I would what would look nice! Maybe a bird or something though... I would like to know how to get around."

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"Okay!  Um, honestly it's going to be harder for you, not being able to read or use pockets yet, but if you're in a pinch you can just ask anyone you see who doesn't look in too much of a hurry and they'll probably help.  But it'll be easier for them to do that if you have an address you're looking for and know a little bit about how they work.  An address is - basically a list of everywhere that a place is inside of, I guess.  Does that make sense?"

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"Like if a thing is in a bag in a box in a room in a house in a town?"