middaeg | She works hard for the money [Open]

Entry tags:

She works hard for the money [Open]

Who: Caren and you!
When: Throughout the month
Where: Knit's Wit, Daisy Chain, throughout the city streets, various brothels
What: Quest time good time
Warnings:

I: Knit Wit

[Thanks to Justine, she's been able to find work, and a new set of clothing, at the Knit Wit. Which means that Caren can be found in the shop fairly often, quick and nimble with her fingers as she works on whatever project it may be-whether it is doing up a hem or adding embroideries to sleeves or other bits of clothing. It could be easy to hover and watch her for awhile.

Or she could take notice of someone crossing the doorway, and have to stop her work, and ensure her needle was stuck in the fabric so it wouldn't unravel.]

May I help you?

[Let's hope her customer service isn't terrible.]

II: Gardening with Class

A: Flowers and the City

So if this also has a magical property...

[She's excited, and leaning forward as she types down notes. For those who have seen her before, in any location...Caren is far more animated. She's absorbing everything, or as much as she can, even as she writes it all down in her Watch.

But she also has to wonder...]

Does this mean we could make a profit off of our plants? Sell the surplus to witches?

[If that means she can sell excess basil when she's sick of it...that's not a terrible idea.]

B: Arrangements and you

[She'd rather that the plants stayed in the dirt, but well-that was the price of doing flower arrangements that were pleasing to the eye. But...there were a few things that caught her eye. While some had given certain flowers, there were her favorites in anothers hands. So she had to go around, with other flowers in her hands.]

Excuse me. Do you mind if I exchanged my flowers for your hydrangeas?

[She looks actually girlish and hopeful for once.]

III: Festival Preparations

A: Harbor Cleaning

[It was good to do some cleaning. True, she was doing that in her new home quite a bit-there was who knew how much dust there-but she enjoyed making the Harbor presentable as well. Cleaning was something she knew how to do, and do well.

Though she never helped with a city wide clean up before. But the latest project-that she had to get to one of the windows and clean it off-was somewhat difficult.

It was a little out of reach.

She went up onto her toes. No dice. She tried to hop up and get it in bits, but it didn't help either. Seeing someone come by, she called out:]

A little help?

B: Blooming Pastries

[She wasn't always assigned to the harbor. Most of the time, she showed up on a day she wasn't working at the Knit Wit, since she needed to save up. After hearing what had happened to Connor-and how he just suddenly had a tail-she wanted to be certain that she had ever had that happen, or that Somnus had it happen to him-that there would be a nest egg ready.

Having 2000 cunes a day weren't anything to sneeze at. So she was working whenever possible.

Maybe it wasn't surprising that in the midst of making Apple Rose tarts, that her knees buckle. She might knock against you against as she starts falling to her knees.]

Sorry...

IV: Gardens with Class

A: Language of Flowers

[So they're supposed to...learn how to flirt and ply other people with drink was it? Well, this should go well. She could do this. And it was time for an exercise! They were paired off randomly, just so they could see if they could do it without the tips that were offered, more or less.

Shouldn't take more then a minute or two they said. She could do this. Easily!

Caren took in a deep breath, and leaned over, so she was pressed arm against arm with her companion. This might look intense, or it might just look slightly ridiculous, depending on the height difference.]

Good evening. Have you been enjoying your time here? I have, no that you're here.

[And she smiles. She's doing great, right?]

B: Flowering in the City

[All right. She doesn't understand this class at all. She huffs a little, and folds her arms under her chest, before murmuring to one of her class mates.]

Isn't it just a matter of flashing a little skin and making some false promises to charm someone into giving you money? That's how I thought it worked.

[Caren why are you saying such horrible things so casually.]

C: A perfect Arrangement

[Caren sighed. She didn't have anyone to bring with her, not really. She didn't know who she would ask to come with to this class. So it was a random pair up for the dancing, and she was standing there, shy and uncertain.]

I've never...danced before. So I don't mind if you take the lead.

[She paused, and continued:]

I'll try not to step on your feet.

Wildcard:

This can be for exploring the city, settling in Haven, all sorts of shenanigans! Or for making something completely different. If you have questions, you can contact me on plurk at

nammah

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When it comes to the truth, and you're able to see it... the options are to accept it, or to fight it. Only one of those things makes a person look really stupid, in my experience.

[L'd had his moment of existential panic when he'd arrived here. It wasn't sustainable; he recognized, quickly, that it was a sink or swim moment, and even if he's still sort of dog-paddling, he's fighting futility in a way that generally meshes with their new reality. He's adapting. Maybe someday, he'll thrive.

New clothes will help a bit with that, hopefully.]

Do you believe that he will make things right? If time is passing where you're from, in your absence... were conditions favorable for him to make the choice you wanted him to?

Sometimes people aren't sure how to do either. They tend to flounder along, grasping to the truth but unable to find a clear path.

[She was waiting, more or less to feel grounded before moving forward. Inside of the city- there weren't the answers they needed here. It was only a starting point.

Soon, she'd have to leap in and seek information for herself, if not for others.]

I think...yes. I think the conditions were extremely favorable for him to make that choice. I've done everything I could to get him to the right place.

He just needs to take the last few steps.

[That might hit uncomfortably close to home, for L, because he has a long and uneasy history of pursuing the truth doggedly, but requiring proof as part of his own particular code. His last suspect had evaded him that way, to the last, and the results were devastating. Like Caren, he is not present to see the results of that devastation, so he can't be certain... but really, there were only so many ways it could have gone, weren't there?]

You've done all you can, with what you had at the time, so... I think that dwelling on it further wouldn't be beneficial in any way. That being said... I couldn't blame you, if you did think of it often, or consider your regrets, or what you might have done differently to increase your chances of success. Those things are only natural.

[And also his story, as well, conveniently cloaked in this separate narrative.]

[Poor L. She didn't know what his story was. She might learn it eventually, if she was so lucky.]

I did everything I could, considering the situation. It could have gone badly-and in the end, it might still.

But I'll trust him with this. If he arrives here...then he arrives here.

With everything else that's going on, I can't worry about what is happening in my world. I'll have to have faith that it exists, that it's fine-and that I'll be fine here.

And so will you.

Especially once you have clothes you're comfortable with.

[He doesn't let his guard down, and has ample reason not to in Geardagas where he is explicitly pretending to be someone who won't draw the attention of the types from his own world who want him dead. But there's a level that the right approach can access beyond the surface affectations, and Caren's done really well in that regard.

He fidgets when she expresses hope for him, because he didn't think he came across as needing reassurance. But maybe everyone does, on some level. Maybe he needs to let go of the idea that he can't feel or speak in ways that the detective L wouldn't, because that identity is amputated from humanity, does not need to feel or speak in those ways.

It'll be a constant, stressful battle to strike that balance. He can turn it into a science, if anyone can, but in a way, doesn't that sort of defeat the purpose?]

Oh... yes. Clothes are the reason we're here and speaking.

[He sounds like he feels a little foolish for letting the conversation stray so far and get so heavy. He should try to avoid that in the future, perhaps, but didn't Caren seem receptive to it, beyond just being polite and humoring him? He decides that this wasn't a misstep, ultimately.]

Do you think they really make that much of a difference? Did they, for you?

[Fashion has never mattered to him. It's a novel concept that it could make the difference between feeling anxious and feeling like everything is fine, and one that he should probably consider.]

[She hadn't expected someone who would understand what it's like to detect and to hunt someone, something down for the greater good. She tends to have walls around everyone-but there is something that softens with Ls-Liden's-understanding of the subject.

Not quite the same, but similar enough.]

It's the main reason, but-it's not bad that we became excited over our life's work.

[It's fine. She enjoyed it, even if she had been careful not to go into too much detail. Some things are difficult to explain in general.

In any case, she pulls over a likely looking pair of jeans, and offers them.]

Clothing can make a difference in confidence and comfort. When I arrived here, I was wearing my work clothes.

It's not something I like to wear off the job. So I felt far more like myself when I found something that suited.

That I was being Caren, and not the exorcist. Maybe it won't for you, but it'll be nice to wear something not falling apart and won't for awhile.

[There are very, very few things in any world that L can empathize with. It's partly because his life is a combination of unusual and isolated, and partly because his experience with connection is more hunger and frustration than success.

It's broken mathematics; he's convinced himself, over the years, that it can't possibly matter.

He's aware that he's sort of changing the subject, again, but he's too curious not to. He calls it worth pursuing.]

Is this the first time, properly, you've felt that you can fully "be" Caren? Maybe since childhood?

[He takes the jeans, running a hand along the denim. Tactilely, it is highly comforting, familiar; it's quality and soft even though it hasn't been worn yet.]

[Sometimes it's hard to be certain what is supposed to be the most important thing to society, or to other people. Especially when there was the isolation from regular people, doing regular people things.

She knows enough to be accidentally charming, to try and pretend sometimes. But that question...

Caren had to frown, the clothing forgotten for now, even while the jeans are held in her hands.]

Since I was ten. I'm not sure who 'Caren' is supposed to be. I know what I'm going to turn into. Other then that...

[She grimaced.]

I'm not sure where I'm supposed to find the answer. And I cannot simply fall back to what I was. It's gone.

[Occasionally, L gets it so right that there might as well be coins rattling, sirens going off to announce that someone has won a jackpot. That seems to be the case, now; ten years old is a child, and what she says after is almost haunting. Not least of all because, almost verbatim, L could repeat her story and it would actually be true for him as well.

Who the hell is Linden Tailor, this human being he's trying to inhabit and understand? Is it ridiculous that he doesn't know quite what he's doing in the simplest regards, or is it normal and to be expected under the circumstances? What Caren tells him makes him consider that it could be the latter.

Is this alright? He forces a smile, a little overbright, tense around the edges of his eyes.]

It's alright to not know who you are. I think it would still be alright, even if your path wasn't once so clear or abruptly truncated. It's a complicated question that should be a lifelong process to figure out.

[Even if a life was short. Even if a life was rushed, stretched thin, and kind of sad.]

If it matters, I just met you and I don't think "Caren" is doing poorly in that regard. What I mean to say is that... you could be doing a lot worse, and you're not even doing badly.

[Maybe he's a little envious. He can't even buy a pair of pants without a lot of help, after all. He clears his throat.]

[The question surprised her. She hadn't expected it and honestly, she was both pensive and shaken. At least from the glances she managed to Linden, he seemed just as thoughtful, maybe a little upset.

It was a difficult position to be in.]

I'm not sure it is all right. That it was so...easy for me to be unable to answer the question.

I feel as if I should do so much better. Perhaps what I'm doing right now is all right but-I'll have to see.

[She made a soft noise, offering the jeans.]

But in any case-there's a fitting room area if you'd like to try these on. Just to make sure these fit.

If you do, once you pay, I'll pull off the tags, and you can wear these out.

[And a shirt too. That'd be useful. Clothing is easier to think about then other things-like how well she blends into this society.]

[He accepts the jeans, and the weight of them in his hands is familiar. It's useful to have that kind of grounding, sometimes, that kind of anchor... because while he might need to learn how to be someone he doesn't know in Geardagas, he doesn't want to forget the person he was, is, might get to be again someday.

Clothing, really, is kind of shorthand for blending in. It's the easiest way to do it on a very surface level. He can tell by looking that the jeans are going to be too big on him, that he's going to leave here with a belt or a pair of suspenders, but these are still the perfect compromise between fitting in and getting to hold onto something that really does feel like a part of himself. He wonders if Caren is wearing something similar, and which piece it is, if so.

From inside the dressing room, he asks another question, unsure if she's standing near enough to hear him. He was right; the jeans are too loose even if they are the right length for his legs, but he's worn jeans his whole life; this is a familiar problem, and actually comforting in that regard, as well. The shirt is actually a good, if somewhat relaxed-looking, fit, even if there are more buttons than he's really used to dealing with. He works to fasten them, not noticing that the row is one off all the way up.]

Caren? You said that you know what you're turning into. What it is, and when did you realize it?

[L spends most of his time in the Coven, and he sees a lot more witches than he sees monsters. He's not yet fluent in the various traits that make up every species, or what to expect or notice.]

[It's the little things that help sometimes. For blending in, and to just...be who you feel what you're supposed to be. What Caren wears to feel something like herself-well.

It's the shoes. They're going to get worn out someday, but for now, they're still perfect. And she moves so she can hear if he needs to get a better pair, one that's longer or a tighter or looser fit. She's not sure what style he likes. She just thought this pair could handle a lot of rough stuff.]

It's a rough guess.

But it's more of a question of impulses. I've no need to hoarde, no intoxication problems. I've greater durability then previously. No problem at all in entering buildings. I haven't had a greater need for water, nor for sunbathing. No increased liking of crowds, nor any changes of vision.

So it's most likely a turnskin or some type of chimera. Puca perhaps, if only because they have golden eyes like that I was born with.

[She shrugged.]

I haven't changed overly much. I've been reading quite a bit on the behaviors and inclinations of various monsters and their abilities. It's been a slow process of elimination.

Those changes aren't on a strict timeline though, are they? They could still happen even if they haven't, yet.

[It's not that he doesn't trust her assessment; more than he cares about considering all possibilities. If he and Caren has similarities that have been established, he is interested in comparing his thought process to hers, treating it as though he was the one turning into a monster and moving through a systematic process of elimination. She hasn't changed much; while it makes the mystery that much greater, it also emphasizes the importance of each individual clue.]

Is there any monster you definitely do not want to become? For any reason? Also... is there a belt you can pass me over the door?

[He's so dang scrawny.]

Edited 2019-07-08 03:48 (UTC)

Oh certainly. I could be proven wrong easily within the next few weeks or more. I'll have to continue taking stock and monitor myself for changes.

[She gets it, and she would question it in his position. She really could be taken as a witch or just a normal person at this point.

While she hums in thought, she passes him a black belt over the door.]

If this doesn't work, I'll look for suspenders. As for what I don't want...

[She clicked her tongue. That was a hard question.]

A vampire. There seems to be too many disadvantages to becoming one, especially the sunlight rule.

Too...it reminds me of stories I've heard of. Then again, I dislike the idea of losing control and attacking people.

[Long, slender fingers reach up to grasp the belt. He has already resolved to purchase a belt and suspenders, if only because he's going to experiment with preference and functionality before ultimately settling on one over the other. Keeping his pants up didn't used to be so important, because he just wasn't out in public that much... but here, he wants to avoid showing his ass, both figuratively and very literally.

The belt will, ultimately, work. He might need an extra hole punched into it before he leaves, but he mentally tallies it in with everything else he's decided to purchase.]

Death is also prerequisite for becoming a vampire, isn't it? I imagine that would put off a lot of people contemplating the change.

[Some more than others, perhaps. L himself has been mistaken several times for a vampire, or someone becoming one, so this aspect of it is of interest to him. Especially because where he's from, he suspects that he actually is dead.]

[No problem in getting him both. At least that way he could experiment and possibly make it seem as if he was wearing different outfits. Maybe. No promises.]

Oh yes. For most people they would be afraid of death. And I understand they have an aversion to perversion of life and death here.

[So much of being in Geardagas is experimentation. Clothing is just the beginning; every ritual and habit L once relied on for routine and normalcy is being shaken up, change demanded, necessary for survival. Some days it doesn't feel like all the effort is worth it; fortunately, today it feels manageable. Caren's demeanor is a big part of that, admittedly.]

And you? Is it an aversion or a fear that you particularly share? It's not something you mentioned initially, which is why I'm wondering.

[She shook her head. Geardagas was a strange place to live but...even so, there were some things that hadn't changed for her.]

Not particularly. But I think I'm in the minority when it comes to not fearing death. And the living are far more fear inducing then the dead.

You are in the minority.

[L doesn't hesitate to say so. He sounds very certain, in fact.]

Not fearing death is an affliction of the very dutiful, I've come to understand. But why do the living scare you?

Oh, very.

[She knows it. As for that...]

The dead can't do anything. The living can.

[This has become a strange conversation isn't it.]

[To be fair... she's speaking to a man who can force the most mundane topics through an off-putting or troubling lens. Sometimes it's intentional, but often... it just grows that way from an innocent root, crooked and strange.

Then again, for some people, buying clothes might as well be a life-or-death matter, given the difficulty involved.]

Inaction isn't necessarily good, and action isn't necessarily bad. If you die, all that you are and ever will be is set in stone. You're not doing harm, but you're also incapable of correcting past wrongs forever. That's worth thinking about, I believe.

[Maybe it's for the best that L walked through this door. Since...well, it looks like two strange people have found each other and are enjoying their strange way of seeing the world.

Her expression is at least thoughtful as she considers what he says.]

It is worth thinking about. Choice...that's only something that can be done by the living, whether one decides or not.

[For the isolated detective, who will quickly forget how to behave around other people at all if he doesn't engage every now and then with another sentient being, this encounter has absolutely been a net positive. His glazed and dead exterior is a little warmed through, a little lighter, a little less like something feral and wary.

The fact that he's now dressed in something resembling a stylish outfit likely helps. Now if only he could learn to comb his hair.]

Not deciding is, itself, a choice. The ability matters a great deal to most people.

[The question, hanging in the silence after he speaks, is doesn't it matter to you?]

[She's still adjusting really. There's a lot of things she can't do yet and-it chafes. It's difficult to socialize sometimes. But here with L-it wasn't so terrible.

And it helped that he looked less like a tattered hobo.]

It does. And it's a precious thing. More so when you're not used to having it, and need to learn how to use it to its fullest extent.

[Which...hopefully answers the question. She values it, but...it's difficult to use.]

[In a lot of ways, they're almost eerily matched. Socially, they have probably had similar enough experiences that their attitudes have been shaped in like ways; even what they don't say about the subject seems to be quietly, mutually understood. At least, that's L's interpretation, and he leaves the dressing room in a pair of belted grey slacks, a white button-up shirt, the cream-colored coat, and as he's passing them, he also reaches for a pair of brown leather boots off a shelf in his size. They seem sturdy and comfortable, and the shoes he wore into the store look more ready for the garbage than his robes.

He's actually almost presentable, to the point where catching a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror actually seems to startle him a bit.]

I think I know what you mean.

[It's not just blowing smoke. She might realize by now that he actually does have some kind of sense for it.]

Even a mundane choice can feel very significant under those circumstances, I'm sure. Worthy of celebration, or stress, or perhaps a bit of both.

She works hard for the money [Open]

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