revivalproject | Time For Some Weaving

WHO: Lark, Anyone
WHERE: The Hotel
WHAT: Teaching Spinning, Sewing, and Magically Weaving
WHEN: Early July
WARNINGS: None

Network Text
Good Day All!

I would like everyone to know that now that my rooms are set up for it, I shall be offering sewing, spinning, and other cloth related lessons in my workroom. This shall be open for people to join me in doing in the evenings after dinner. I can also at that time accept any clothing people might need repaired.

In the mornings, if I may find someone to offer their hands for assistance, I shall work on magical spinning or weaving. Until such time as we have a larger supply of thread and a full loom is completed, this will be the best way I can provide for us, but I cannot do this alone. I would ask any who might offer me assistance allow me to know so we might arrange days for this purpose.

On days I do not spell work, I will be meditating in my work room at the hottest part of the day, and any are free to join me. I reside on the third floor of the hotel, in the room second from the left after leaving the main stair. My work room is the adjoining room. Please let me know before coming over.

1. Spinning Lessons For All!
Lark didn't even bother to look up if someone entered for her lessons. She smiled and watched her spindle, careful to let her thread lose enough speed to reverse. Once she was ready she caught the end of the spindle to hold it still so she could wind the thread she had made onto it and set it aside. Only then did she rise and offer the newcomer a bow and a warm smile. Clad in her forest green robes tied only with a soft length of cord, she could easily be linked to a monk. Which was not entirely inaccurate.

"Good evening to you. Have you come to learn, or do you need some repair work done?"

Because truly she could do either. She had even learned of the replicator and had spent her monthly rations on drop spindles and wool carders. She was all ready to get to some serious work.

2. A Mage's Assistant
An agreement, once made, was a happy one to fulfill. This morning, or any morning she had an agreed upon assistant, Lark rose early to eat and clean and then return to her work room to throw wide open the windows and turn on all of the lights. Then she set up the work table for the tools of the day. A large pitcher of water, a basket of food, a comfortable chair to sit at.

Then she waited. Starting pattern magic without someone to protect her from the spell itself would be foolish. Now she just had to wait to train a new assistant and hopefully create something everyone needed.

"Mila, watch over me," she found herself praying quietly as she waited.

[OOC: If someone wants to meditate with Lark just lmk on plurk or discord and I'll set up something for that.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

To compare it to a machine would actually not be entirely wrong. Machine created cloth makes sure that thread moves in specific paths by pulling and pushing thread. For Lark it was much the same, but in this case she was the shepherd, and the threads the driven sheep, her magic the dog to chase them into line.

But yes, burning through energy was absolutely correct. Magic was so invariably tied to will and lifeforce in her world, and many were the inexperienced or unwise, or elderly mage that gave themselves to the spell until they passed away with the end of the magic.

The magic reaches out, as soon as the new spool of thread is delivered, quickly catching an end and sending the threads running along their preordained paths. For a moment a knot forms in the cloth, uneven and ruining the form, and Lark's fingers brush it.

"Don't play now," her voice whispers and the threads untangle themselves, settling into their proper places.

And so the whole process would be, until coming up upon the end of the spools, which would be reached before the limits of the time.

Ikora dutifully kept her eyes on the many things happening. It might overwhelm some but the Warlock's mind had no trouble keeping up with bundling the cloth as it was made, replacing spindles, and watching for threats.

Whatever things Lark worried about with her magical ritual, Ikora no signs of any trouble. Ophiuchus kept an eye on Lark directly as well, while his internal clock kept track of how much time had passed.

It was interesting that she was aware enough to speak. She was not lost in the ritual - or so it seemed - as much as she feared.

"Any other readings?" she asked her ghost as she replaced another spindle.

"No other energies that I can pick up on. Nothing like Hive magic either."

Ikora nodded. She didn't think Lark used any Darkness in her work. It was creation magic, not destruction. She made very beautiful cloth.

AS the thread ran out, Lark looked... Confused. It was always strange to come out of a spell like this, even experienced as she was. Once she came back to herself, Lark almost wilted in her seat, looking truly exhausted.

While this wasn't a greater length of cloth than she'd made in a long time, it was in fact a larger volume because of how much wider she had made the lay of the cloth so they could make clothing from it.

Magical fatigue was horrid, and were it not for the fact that she had no more of this thread to work with, she'd probably do another round of this after a meal.

"I may be growing old, to be so tired. Or perhaps there is less ambient magical energy in the world."

"I would suspect less magical energy. I can feel the Light but it is distant." Ikora brought the prepared food and drink over so that Lark did not have to get up and move. Once she had more strength back she could move to a more comfortable resting place.

"Her condition is stable," Ophiuchus chimed in, scanning Lark to be doubly sure of that. "Heartrate is a little elevated but not within dangerous levels. Rest and fluids are the best thing for her."

Now that Lark was awake and aware Ikora went to collect the cloth she had made which was in a neat bundle. It was a little uneven but nothing she couldn't work with. "And when I use my powers I am drained as well."

She planned to fix that.

"I might have to agree with you," Lark sighed, and when the food was offered over she smiled the most grateful smile.

"Thank you, Ikora, Ophiuchus. I think I shall avoid breaking the ward. With the two of you close I was able to do more. I might ask for your watching while I spin. That requires less magic, and as it isn't pattern magic I will be able to talk while I do it."

They could discuss many things, and she really does want to know more of this Light.

"You have me for as long as you need me." She did not have the wealth of responsibilities here that she had back home. Ikora could take the time to do little things like protect someone for the whole afternoon.

She left the bundle of cloth in a safer place where it wouldn't be disturbed and then returned to standing between Lark and the door. No one would get through Ikora Rey.

"If you need to focus pretend we are not here. We don't want to be a distraction."

As long as she needs. Ah what an offer to extend. But she knew that it was just a kindness. Lark sipped at the drink in her hands and considered. Yes, she would feel safe doing thread.

"Spinning, even magically, is far less focus. Imagine it like the difference between doodling and trying to perfectly recreate another picture. Spinning is the doodle, pattern magic is the copying. It is different levels of focus."

"It's been a very long time in my world since anyone spun thread or wove cloth without machines. And most fibers are synthetic." Ikora's own robes were a synthetic weave with only a few touches of natural cloth belts around her waist.

"And I don't believe anyone found any magic in it." It could be though. So much pre-Golden Age history was lost. Maybe there were traditions like Lark's in that time. It would be a long time before she had an answer on that.

If they ever found that history.

Ah, that word again! Lark perked up.

"Cobb spoke of synthetic fibers. He could not explain them well. Perhaps you might be able to tell me more?"

If Cayde's clothing was synthetic fibers, then she most definitely could work with them. But they were a mystery she wished to find answers to.

Time For Some Weaving | Open

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