revivalproject | Time For Some Weaving

Entry tags:

Time For Some Weaving | Open

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.]

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A chance to see another form of magic up close was impossible for Ikora to resist. She understood how the Light worked, insomuch as anyone could, and she even understood a great deal of Hive ritual magic. What Lark could do was entirely knew and her endless Warlock curiosity had her volunteer to watch over her.

She arrived promptly on time and knocked politely on the door before she entered. Ophiuchus floated behind her, there to watch the ritual and also watch out for Ikora and Lark.

"Good morning," she said with a polite incline of her head. "Could you run through what you'd like me to do?"

"Good morning," Lark agreed with a warm smile as she rose and bowed to the other magic worker. Ikora, yes, she remembered the woman from their experience in the spellscape. A very competent and wise woman, and who often reminded Lark already of the Honored Moonstream, the leader of her order.

The world often needed sensible women like that.

"Thank you for offering your assistance. Today I would like to work on cloth, and that is by far the more complicated spell. Which is why I saved it for you."

She gestured to the table, where there was what was clearly a taken apart shirt of fine weave. There were also spools of the thread that Lark had clearly already made, silk in this case.

"We shall start by arranging the silk spools, with the threads overlaying the started cloth. Then we overlay threads counter to them. These will symbolize the warp and weft, and will serve as a guide. The spools will empty as I weave my spell, and part of your task will be to trade the spools with full ones when they empty. The other part..."

Lark gives the woman a very serious look.

"I do not know of your magics, but it is possible for even an experienced mage in mine to be caught up in pattern magic. It is dangerous. Patterns amplify magic, and weaving is a pattern upon a pattern. It can be a great danger, and if I lose myself to it, it could be fatal. I would forget to drink, to eat, and give my magic and my soul to the spell. I need a wise eye to ensure I do not. You would be an anchor."

Lark's skills had been invaluable for freeing them from the illusory world. She had been steady and level headed. Powerful, as well, and Ikora respected those that wielded their power for others.

She could easily trade out spools of silk as Lark wove her magic. It was a simple task. Monitoring her condition was also simple, in theory.

"How should I disrupt your ritual to make sure you're safe when you come out of it and the magic itself does not unravel?" Ikora understood Lark's magic had everything to do with weaving and threads which with one simple pull could unravel a stitch or destroy a bit of cloth.

It would be unfortunate if Ikora ruined her spell by jostling her the wrong way to bring her out of the ritual. "And how long should I let you work? An hour? Two?"

Ah a very astute question. Lark liked people that considered the safety of the spell itself. A very thoughtful and schooled woman, this.

"In the end, this is weaving cloth, and with my magic as it is, when I finish a length I can actually cause the threads at the ends to spin themselves into the thread around them. It is not so easy to tear my cloth. Especially as part of the patterns spells the cloth for strength and stain resistance. But you are good to ask. Typically one merely needs shake the worker out of the spell, but in great duress, pain will do. It's possible you could also reach with your own magic, but you'd need care not to be caught up in the pattern, lest I accidentally pull you in."

But what she knew of Ikora, little though it were, told her she may not need to worry too much of that.

"Traditionally I do not like to run this spell, save at greatest emergency, for more than two hours before I rest for food. If I consume all of our thread first, then of course stop me, or my power might reach for other fibers to try and pull into it, and I very much like my robes as they are."

She rose to her feet a bit and moved to show Ikora where the spools were for replacement.

"It would also be very useful if, as I work, you might be willing to roll the cloth into a bolt. This will be a silk working together. It takes a lot more power, and so I felt it best to trust you with it above all others, until they are familiar with it."

"I will have Ophiuchus set a timer then once you start." Ikora gestured to her ghost who was still nearby. Lark had known him as the black cat that was Ikora's magical familiar. He served much the same purpose like this.

The ghost bobbed his wings in a nod. He would make sure they didn't run over time.

Ikora kept her hands behind her back as she studied the spools. They looked like any other spool. The magic was not in the materials then but in the way Lark worked them and the magic inherit in herself.

"I will do my best to make an organized bolt but it's not something I've ever done before." Ikora knew a bolt of cloth was usually wrapped around something like a board. She didn't have anything like that but she could hopefully make something neat and easy to work with when Lark was done.

"Where is your food and water?" she asked, on to what she felt was a second most important part of this. She would want to get those to Lark as soon as she was out of her ritual.

Lark was ab it shocked to see the floating thing, but she had seen a good many strange things here, so it was something she tried to take in stride. She offered Ophiuchus a bow.

"You honor me with your assistance," she told the ghost.

"It will not be complicated. It's more rolling. If I had the proper dowel we'd do it around a long piece of wood, but alas, we work with what we have before us," she smiled. After that she gestured to the pitcher and basket.

"As I do not believe we'll have supplies to do too much work this time, I did not go so far as to arrange for a pot of stew to simmer for after this. I will need the attention, I fear. I am always weak after such spell work. In the Winding Circle Temple I never did this sort of work. We believe that magic held back is magic ready for the future."

"Oh! Thank you." Ophiuchus couldn't really bow in return but he did dip forward for a moment.

Ikora wished a pot of stew would be enough to bring her Light back after she used her powers. Perhaps she simply needed to use them more to strengthen that connection to the Light. She was not alone out here. The Traveler was still with her.

"Then I will make sure no harm comes to you after your ritual is finished." Ikora didn't expect trouble here but she was confident if trouble did somehow find them she would be able to hold it off.

"Sometimes, the fear of not having power when you need it keeps you from seeing when it is needed." She had seen Guardians hesitate to use their Light against enemies and fellow Guardians in the Crucible. They struggled.

Sometimes, it was best to use power even if it wasn't the last possible minute.

"The Living Circle Initiates believe that use of some is good. Moderation in all things, so that when there is true need, we may serve," Lark offered with a smile as she took the comfortable stool and then moved to start picking up the large spools of thread. They were hefty things, wider around than even her hand. Clearly the woman spent many hours at constant work for this.

"AS an ambient mage we are taught that knowing our proper craft first strengthens our magic, and our magic strengthens our craft. They go hand in hand, one following the other, a circle."

Goes well with the name of her faith, doesn't it?

Moderation depended on the Guardian. Some were cautious and careful. Some were deliberate. Others reckless and wild. Ikora had seen all types through the years. Her world, perhaps, was not as peaceful as Lark's.

"Our Light is perhaps not as cyclical as yours." Ikora also began to carefully pick up spools. Lark probably wouldn't be able to carry them by herself. "We wield it but we don't craft anything with it. If anything, it crafts us into what we are."

Not necessarily the who, though. The Light brought them back as blank slates and they decided who they would become in wielding it. Ikora had made herself into a force of nature. Like gravity.

"We do occasionally make weapons," she mused.

There was a soft knock at the door before Drake pushed it open and glanced around hesitantly. He was in his regular olive drab trousers and a black t-shirt, but was clutching his matching green jacket in both hands.

"Yes, um. Hi. Drake Riley. I saw your text post, and I was wondering- I mean- Well you see, I woke up in a cave with a concussion and not much else, and just before that, my friend and I were under direct attack, so..." He abruptly stuck his hand out, offering the battered jacket.

"I'm afraid it's seen much better days and I'd be very grateful if you could repair it. I'd do it myself, only my kit went missing. Before you say yes, you should know I can't pay you. But I can certainly fix a broken dishwasher. Or - you know - whatever needs fixing. If that's an acceptable exchange."

Ah, that was a familiar face and voice. Lark looked up and then carefully pinched her fingers to stop the spin of her spindle. The thread was quickly wrapped upon it and set aside so she might hold her hands out for the jacket.

"I do not ask for payment," Lark answered. "And my hands are in good condition for washing dishes. If payment may be asked for, I would have an idea."

Shiro had seen the post about spinning and weaving, having a good idea that it was the same young lady that he had been talking to when they had been herding a wayward Glownie back to the pasture. Of course, he was curious as she had mentioned it and he had no experience with weaving or spinning. Sure, he had basic sewing knowledge, but it was mainly to repair holes so maybe he could learn more about it.

As he walked in, he smiled as she turned to look at him. "Good evening. You know... I think I'd like to learn."

Peace was always a relative thing. But Lark had been lucky in Emelan. Safe, save for a few natural disasters and diseases and pirates of course. The lack of cyclical nature was interesting.

"The Light crafts you, and you craft peace and the peace crafts more light perhaps?"

Well, if not, than it's interesting.

"Magic is a weapon that crafts and is crafted, in my opinion," Lark smiled as she started to demonstrate how to lay out the spindles and the threads. "What brings the Light to you?"

Lark was humming to herself when Shiro arrived, happy with her spinning, in the quick rotation and move of her spindle as it pulled silk into thread from her fingers. It was pleasant, to have this peace back

"Shiro!" she greeted with a smile, gesturing to a seat in her workroom. "It is a pleasure to see you again. I would be happy to teach you whatever you might wish. Spinning or clothing repair?"

"We don't know the source of the Light, actually. We know certain beings can work it and bestow it on others but where it comes from and how it is created... we are still studying." The mysteries of the Light would keep Walock's busy for centuries to come. Ikora had heard many theories on it but no one could definitively prove their theories.

She watched Lark's process and handed her thread when needed but did not try to set things up herself. This was her first time watching a ritual of this nature. She was more helpful watching.

"My Ghost brought it to me personally." She inclined her head towards Ophiuchus. "A being known as the Traveler brought it to my world. Before, we had no idea it existed."

They don't know the source. How intriguing.

"One day, when we are not about to work a pattern spell, we should talk more on this. I am very intrigued by what you've said already, and would like to learn a little more."

Not that she expected she could or would learn all of another's form of magic, but she was very intrigued by it. For now, though, her focus was the set up. She was very careful and slow in laying it out, so that Ikora might be able to replicate it to some degree in the future were she asked. Not that one demonstration would be enough, she knew that.

"Alright. I think we are ready to begin. Would you like a comfortable seat?"

"I would be glad to answer any questions you might have." Ikora didn't know how much of the Light she could explain in a way Lark would understand. Her world seemed to be very far in the past compared to others and technology was so much a part of Ikora's world.

"No, thank you, it'll be easier if I stand." And she was used to being on her feet for hours and hours watching over the Last City. Ikora folded her arms behind her back. "Once you begin, Ophiuchus will start timing."

And she would keep an eye on the cloth and the door while also trying to figure out how Lark's magic worked in comparison to what she knew.

"And the same in return," Lark agreed with a smile.

Though if Ikora wanted to stand, she would accept this. She nods along with the woman's decision and sat to consider the cloth. At least she took a deep breath and raised her hands over the threads before diving into the warm gold coil of her magic, the rich weight of spun thread.

As her power flowed one who might be able to see magic might see the radiant light of it infusing the threads as they moved, like living snakes, to tangle themselves, weaving in and out at an impossible speed. Lark held the pattern she wished in her mind, overlaid with the layered enchantments she intended for the work. Always her mind had to be on the progress, to make sure that the threads properly wove and did not tangle or knot or wander out of the pattern, as threads not managed might do.

And as she put her power forth the spindles of thread unwound hurriedly, trying to release their precious load of thread into the ever growing stretch of cloth.

"It's good to see you again too. I didn't know you had all of this set up. It's nice."

He walked over and sat down in the offered seat. "Hmm... I already know some basic clothing repair though I'm sure I could stand to learn more. So let's start with spinning.

"I have been working since the spell ended to make a space to replace my workshop back home," Lark said. "It is not pleasant to lack a fireplace, or view of Rosie's garden, but I will do what I can."

Spinning. Lark smiles and nods, reaching for the table to take up the teaching tools she had taken out for people.

"We should start by talking about how thread is made, if that works for you."

It was unkind to compare Lark's magic which was clearly so personal to her to a machine but the speed at which she wove the cloth was very machine-like. It was certainly more than one person could do by hand.

"What sort of readings are you getting?" she asked Ophiuchus, her voice soft so she wouldn't disturb Lark while she worked.

"Body temperature is up. Not to dangerous levels but..." Ophiuchus said just as softly. "It's probably why she needs to eat after doing this. She's burning through energy."

Ikora hummed softly as she replaced the first spindle.

"I can actually mend clothing ok," Ezra says, brightly. New clothing had been hard to come by, on the streets. His stitches may not be the neatest, but he's figured solutions out with trial and error.

"I was hoping to help with the spinning. That's the part of the cloth making that takes the longest, right?"

Oh, Ezra. Lark smiles and gestures for the man to come join her by taking one of the comfortable seats in the room.

"Spinning does take a good bit of time, yes. I spin every single night here, since I cannot buy materials. When one gets good at it, they can make quite a bit of thread or string each day."

She sets her spindle aside and then folds her hands in her lap.

"Have you ever seen anyone spin thread before?"

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.

"I don't think so. Maybe some farmers did it by hand way out in the country on my world, but that's the sort of thing mostly done by machine, where I'm from," Ezra tries to explain.

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Time For Some Weaving | Open

2. Assistant

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1. Spinning Lessons

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Oh Shiro you flatter this 40-something woman by calling her young

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He certainly tries

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1 (mabe jump to 2 later on?)

we possibly could do a small magic later on. she doesn't wanna magic late at night

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