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[an_evening_star]

It's unusual, really, to see the star much of anywhere on her own.

But she's there all the same - curled up in one of the armchairs near the fire with her legs over the armrest and a long white jacket slung over her lap. There's a neat slice on the side of one coatsleeve and a larger hole in the shoulder - and the fine, white string she's attempting to wrangle has stubbornly wound its way down her arm and doesn't seem particularly inclined to cooperate with any amount of frustrated glaring.

She's terrible at this. (Which, truthfully, is most of the motivation for not attempting it upstairs - where certain people could wake up and see.)

She's terrible at it, but that doesn't seem to make her particularly inclined to give up. She continues on, frowning stubbornly, curses soft and mumbled against bleeding fingers and messily tended material.

Interruption would be a blessing. Unless you happen to be a very angry sewing needle offended by the sort of language your tiny, prickly child might be picking up, mind you.

Comments

[madolyn-madden.livejournal.com]

Sewing?

"Do you want help with that?"

So maybe Madolyn isn't the greatest at sewing, but it looks like the poor girl's fingers could use a little relief.

[an_evening_star]

Yvaine is a complete and utter domestic failure.

They should send stars people like her away for emergency training before releasing them out into the world.

Her head snaps up, momentarily startled, before she blinks and smiles a bit helplessly.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," she admits, mildly sheepish.

[madolyn-madden.livejournal.com]

Or, what we like to call Home Ec. Except no one does that anymore.

"It's okay. I'm not that great, either. I'm Madolyn Madden, from Boston, 2006."

She sticks out a hand.

[an_evening_star]

The only problem with Home Ec. would be that Yvaine would be one of those annoying kids who sit in the back and make sarcastic comments instead of paying attention to the lesson.

The star extracts one hand, still slightly tangled in string, and shakes neatly.

"Yvaine," she replies, and then wrinkles her nose thoughtfully. "Faerie, and I'm not precisely certain of the when/"

[madolyn-madden.livejournal.com]

Madolyn was just that. Unfortunately for her.

"That's okay. Here, I'll get some bandaids from the bar before taking that..." she points at the jacket in Yvaine's lap, "Off of your hands."

She returns momentarily with a tin box of bandaids, and hands it to Yvaine.

[notthatpotter]

The slightly glowy looking woman looks like she might know a thing or two about magic, and James is looking for someone who fits that very qualification.

So there is a young twelve-year-old boy approaching Yvaine. Might as well try, after all.

He musters up all the polite-skills he's acquired over the years and says, "Hullo, excuse me."

[an_evening_star]

He's talking to the wrong star if he thinks that he needs to be polite - especially given that the string of curses that his greeting cuts off is anything but.

Her shoulders wince upward slightly, nose crinkling in a manner that might remind him of ... well, himself when caught doing something he very likely shouldn't.

"You didn't hear that, yes?"

[notthatpotter]

"Err...no?"

He so did. But that isn't so important right now, anyway.

"I was just wondering whether you might know any magic."

[an_evening_star]

"I'm choosing to believe you for the moment."

You liar.

It gets a bright grin, however, before she sticks the tip of one finger briefly into her mouth.

"Not terribly much myself," she admits. "What sort are you looking for?"

[notthatpotter]

"Well, we need someone who might know a heating spell in case it gets too cold outside," James explains. "Do you know how to do that?"

He smiles at the first bit, though.

[bright_daughter]

Star has been trying to keep a new promise, which half involves old ones, but is more important in her mind tonight at least.

"That does not look particularly pleasant." She offered, with a rather peaceful smile.

[an_evening_star]

Her back straightens and she sucks her finger into her mouth for a moment, cutting off the curses and blinking a bit like a guilty child.

"It might be if I was any good at it," she admits and smiles back, edges of her brightening almost unconsciously. "Unfortunately, I think that I am doing more damage than repairs."

[bright_daughter]

Star looked at it, but she really knew very little about the mechanics of the action more than she'd seen it done millions of times by millions of different beings.

"I never did understand why they called it an eye."

[an_evening_star]

"Do they really?" Yvaine wrinkles her nose thoughtfully. "I cannot imagine that anyone would want something poking through their eyes - makes it almost unfair to force it upon anything else."

[bright_daughter]

"Yes."

Star giggle, settling down on the air next to her smiling.

"Is it so important?" She made a movement with her hand toward the jacket. "I have seen other get cloth and clothing from this Bar."

[takiena_called]

There's a young teenage boy watching her with growing amusement from an armchair nearby, sketchpad in his lap.

"Do you need any help with that?"

Finn is surprisingly good at mending things. Or not so surprising, when you consider that his mother was a seamstress with no daughters and two sons who had a tendency to tear their clothes.

[an_evening_star]

She tilts her head to the side - gaze catching on his - and her lips tug up in response, quite contentedly sheepish. She's pretty much accepted the fact that this is not her calling somewhere around the seventy-fifth time she stabbed herself.

"Can you tell?"

[takiena_called]

"Well--the cursing was a bit of a tip-off," he admits, semi-embarassed himself. It is a bit rude to point out people's foibles.

[an_evening_star]

The star just laughs, tugging at a bit of string that's making its way into a rather complicated knot around her arm.

"I really should try not to do that," she replies. "Not out loud, at the very least."

[takiena_called]

He just shrugs, smiling back at her. "I--honestly, d'you want me to take a look at it?"

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"Ah, hey. Ma'am," Yvaine may be one of the few people Atton actually feels the need to be formal towards. "What'cha doing? And by that I mean, why are you sewing if you appear to be getting hurt by it?"

[an_evening_star]

Her head tilts back and she smiles brightly, if a bit crookedly from mostly upside-down.

"I figured that it would not hurt to try," she snorts a bit wryly, and holds up a tangled hand as evidence to the contrary. "Obviously I was wrong."

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"Yeah. 'S a reason I don't ever try to sew, after all." Atton says, sagely.

[an_evening_star]

"Then you are far wiser than I am."

She sticks the tip of one finger into her mouth.

"I think that I have sewed myself more than the jacket."

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"Yeah. People say that a lot." Solemnly. "Why are you sewing up a jacket, again?"