The Silk Road

[holtfinder]

WHO: Moonshade and (in no particular order) Lark, the Factory-Dwellers (Tony and Catra), anyone who answers the network post
WHERE: The town center, the Southeast side (primarily near the factories), the network
WHAT: Getting silk production going
WHEN: Early July
WARNINGS: None yet, will warn in subject lines as needed



1. [Closed to Lark] Examining Our (Moral) Fiber
Moonshade has messaged Lark to meet her at the fountain near the town center. While she didn’t give a specific reason for the meeting, even over the network video she seemed excited about something. When Lark arrives at the meeting, Moonshade has a simple bag that seems stuffed full of something waiting at her feet (and a wolf splashing in the fountain, but don’t mind him).

As Lark approaches, Moonshade raises a three-fingered hand in greeting. “Shade and sweet water. How have you been?”


2. [Network Post, video] Can’t Do Everything Alone
Someone’s finally shown her how to properly aim the camera at her face, so she doesn’t look quite off-centered, or like she’s just one big pointy ear.

“I’ve discovered a couple of colonies of silkcloth spiders, one in the caves near the beach and another in one of the large abandoned buildings full of machines. This is very good news, because the webbing the spiders create is possible to process into fiber that can be spun and woven.”

She reaches down to grab a hank of faintly shiny grey-white fiber, holding it up to display for everyone.

“While I can definitely take on the work of gathering and preparing the webbing, it’ll certainly go quicker with more hands. If there’s anyone who’s using the agriculture datapoint, there’s two main tasks I could use help with: preparing spider repellent salve and working with the gathered webbing--washing, drying and getting it ready for spinning. Lark’s agreed to help with the spinning and weaving end of the process. I’ll take charge of the gathering myself. With the salve, it won’t be too dangerous.”

Putting the fiber back down, she looks back at the camera, her dark warm eyes somewhere in a deep murky space between purple and brown, not unlike untreated purpleheart wood.

“I’m claiming one of the other abandoned buildings with the machines for production--both for the salve and for treating fiber. With this process underway, I’m hoping we’ll be able to outfit anyone who needs lightweight clothing for the warm season.”

There’s an awkward pause for a moment, before she fumbles with the device, trying to remember how to turn the camera off and end the message. There’s a lovely shot of the ground, and a flash of grey fur before it cuts out.


3. [Open to anyone in the Orange District] Moving Day
Those who live in factories and The Tower Residences may be used to a relatively quiet existence. But it seems the peace may be disturbed as Moonshade begins moving into the factory at “Orange 25” (not that she can read to know that’s what it’s called, and 25 is really something she’d parse as three-eights-and-one, but that’s not the point). Between the grey-furred wolf who’s helping carry supplies, Moonshade bringing instruments that’ll help with the salve-making, and occasional clattering coming from the factory itself as she tries to make room around the machinery, it’s a busy morning in the area.

Perhaps you’ve stepped out for a breath of fresh air and got the sniffies from Steadypaw, who’s still Just! So! Curious! about everything around him. Or perhaps you glanced out a window to see the elf carrying a basket of leaves from something in the greenhouse. Either way, it’s time to say hi to the new neighbor.

X. Wildcard
darkersolstice or darkersolstice#9463 to hit me up and plot. I’m always open to anything.

Comments

[holtfinder]

Actually, the joke about interpretive dance brings a wry smile to her face. "Pointing and grunting is usually about as far as humans get with us. A proper dance would be an exciting alternative. It'd show you're more clever and talented than most five-fingers."

Clearly, this is how one makes friends with the new neighbors.

"But yes, we're probably a bit loud as we move in and set up in that building over there." She points to indicate which factory she's claimed. "We're going to work on spider repellent salve and washing the fiber for Lark to spin. Eventually, we'll be able to make silk cloth and then silk clothing. Dyes will come later, once we're set on the cloth. It'll take a while."

[in_extremis]

As someone who considered himself one of the most clever and talented of the five-fingers, Tony placed a delicate hand on his chest demurely like he would be embarrassed and unaccustomed to being so admired for his skills. Then he said, "What, pointing and grunting isn't how you dance? That's a mating display in some boroughs."

Stretching back up onto his feet, Tony pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead to squint across to the factory again like it might help him see this spider-based manufacturing, then down at the dog curiously because Moonshade did keep saying 'we'. Evidently, he had been trying to poach a valuable employee. "Clothes are pretty rare around here, and you'd probably drown in anything the Agrii left behind," he observed, and reached a hand up over his head to indicate just how tall they tended to be. "But if you know you can make reams of the stuff, a sail or enough for an air balloon would save me plenty of pain. You're going to have a big market cornered, sweetheart, believe me, the demand is off the charts."

[holtfinder]

"Lark's going to be responsible for the actual spinning and weaving, so you'd have to explain your need to her. I'm just getting the webbing into fiber." Not only would Lark have more chance of understanding the ideas, she also comes from a culture that has an actual economy.

She pauses, pointing to the factory, so near both of theirs, that the spiders have infested. "They're here, mostly--though there's also a colony in the caves by the beach. I don't recommend trying to pet them like Steadypaw--I don't think they're as weak to the scritchies."

[in_extremis]

The idea that there had been a growing spider colony, big enough to produce a volume of silk worth starting an enterprise over, that close and perhaps this whole time had Tony staring out at the indicated space with a lip raised and sunglasses resolutely back in place in defence. He would ask how difficult it would be to transplant a spider colony, but absolutely did not want to be involved in the process. "You said you were working on a repellent...?" he asked, eyebrows raised and clearly ready and willing to slather it all over the forge if they needed a test subject. He didn't appear to be in any way likely to try to offer any spiders friendship. "How are you, uh..." he continued, twisting a hand in the air to produce the question he meant to ask without making too many assumptions. He still landed on, "Can you just do that?," because just about everyone around here seemed to do some kind of magic and that sounded like the broadest possible approach.

[holtfinder]

"Just do...?" There's a moment of confusion before she wrinkles her nose. "Oh, no, not by magic. I only know about the spider repellent because of the agriculture data point. It seems the Agrii may have made the same sort of silk themselves at one point."

She is, in fact, decidedly one of the less magical members of her tribe of elves. But there's no shame in that fact; her own talents in the realm of the creative are still worth something to the Wolfriders.

[in_extremis]

Tony went, "Oh," and for a moment didn't seem to quite know what to do with this information, looking back to the factory that all of the noise had been coming from and wondering if the machinery in there that he couldn't identify had been for making silk-fibre all along. Understanding that didn't mean any of those machines worked, though, and in the unlikely case any of them had survived the apocalypse, Tony had stripped them liberally for parts by now. Tony's delicate hand went back to his heart as he realized with horror, "You're doing it by hand?" The bulk needed to produce something usable couldn't have been a reasonable job for one pair of hands.

[holtfinder]

"Yes, by hand. That's how I do everything--tanning and dying is my usual work back home. It's slow work, but the sooner started, the sooner something gets accomplished. Though Lark's planning to use magic for some of the weaving, until Shiro gets her a proper loom."

Moonshade seems confused as to what alternative she'd have beside magic. She is, to be honest, a little bit of a primitive elf.

"If you have any ideas to make the process quicker, everyone would benefit from it."

[in_extremis]

"That would be my pleasure," Tony said, more than happy to improve efficiency through technology if there was a chance he could understand the process. And how much harder could it be than building a rocket? The loom likely wasn't the most logical last evolution of that process, either, but that would only matter if they could be producing enough to keep up with the work. "If you want to show me how you do the work, I'm sure we could come up with some automation to streamline it. Machines, you know, like..." he tried to demonstrate, but without anything immediately nearby to indicate, he was left gesturing vaguely toward the door to the forge where the heat of the fire rolled out.

[holtfinder]

"...machines?" She repeats the word like one utterly unfamiliar with it. "Do you work metal, like a troll? How would that help with making salve and processing fiber?"

[in_extremis]

The beginning of that question was easy to handle, simple confirmation and they could have been moving right past it, but the qualifier had Tony's mouth snapping shut with a click and looking to Moonshade, then Steadypaw quizzically, hoping the dog could help him out here. It didn't sound like Moonshade was trying to insult him, but Tony hadn't met a lot of trolls that he found particularly pleasant.

Tony had to clear his throat before he could actually respond, but still looked baffled as he said, "Sure, like a troll. And I'm not sure yet, but--where I'm from, we've got machines--metal things, that work on their own so you can walk away, to do that sort of thing. Anybody that does do it by hand is, like, an eccentric artist who lives in the mountains, so I can probably figure it out." This was all far less interesting than figuring out, "Do you mean, like a dwarf?" Most trolls came from Asgard, after all. Maybe Moonshade was a more familiar kind of alien than Tony had been assuming.

[holtfinder]

"I've never heard of a dwarf before. But the trolls live underground, and they're the only ones who can make weapons out of brightmetal. They're lumpy and green and unpleasant, and for some reason my father and brother both used to seek out their caves to go and gamble when they were looking for some excitement." She never saw the appeal, especially when the men going out to poke the trolls were both chiefs, men with responsibilities that should have come before such idle amusements.

[in_extremis]

Okay, no dwarves, but trolls lived underground, that tracked. And Tony could give a jerky nod, sure, he would probably have plenty to talk about with the trolls and he had to give Moonshade credit for being particularly astute about the weapon thing. So as she continued, Tony's shoulders had to drop as he wilted and tried very hard not to pout at that judgmental tone she took, and he tried to very surreptitiously give his sweat-soaked shirt a sniff to source the bad impression. It wasn't exactly his best look, he had to admit. It wasn't like he had been expecting the neighbours to drop by.

"Well, uh--Listen, if you need some help over there and want me to take a crack at it, you know where to find me," he offered with less confidence, indicating back toward the door and making like he might slink back into the oppressive heat to escape this introduction he had already somehow messed up. "It's--I'm Tony, by the way. Pleasure," he maybe could have led with, that was a mistake, so he did his best to make up for it with another pat to Steadypaw's ears and the other hand out to see if he knew how to shake.

[holtfinder]

Steadypaw takes that as an excuse to lightly nom on Tony's hand. He's clearly being gentle, but also clearly hasn't been taught to shake or even be particularly polite about how he invades personal space.

"I'm Moonshade, and he's Steadypaw."