Welcome to Gaia! ::

As Altais stood above Pykichi, she couldn't help but admire his proportions, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling behind those covered eyes. Being in the profession that she was, his nearness did not intimidate her. However, she had been completely taken by surprise when he had leaned down and kissed behind her ear. Startled by the intimate act, she could only sit as still as possible, a deer caught in the headlights look upon her face. Nearness was one thing. Lips on body parts were quite another. His breath lingering had sent her heart into her throat, and it took a few moments to realize he had stepped back. She let him lead her out of the store, her tea not quite finished yet, but it didn't matter. Her brain finally caught back up, though, with his last sentence. "Oh no, sir. Err... Altais," she corrected, quickly. "This will be my thanks to you. I couldn't allow you to buy the shirt after everything that you have done for me. And a bit of hemming work would also be a quick fix."
She glanced at the blindfold wrapped around his eyes, realizing for the first time that she had never wondered at it. She had assumed back at the stalls that Altais was able to see through it, regardless of the exchange between him and the horrible stall-keeper. She supposed that magic could have attributed to the ease at which he moved through and around people, but she doubted it. Most alchemists she had met (which weren't many, to be fair) had a certain air about them that told what they were. Altais didn't seem to hold such an aura, though there was something unique about him.
As they entered the store, she directed him to a chair, and inquired as to whether he required anything more to drink. When he declined, she explained that she would be right back to gather her materials.
Quickly, she gathered up the extra bolts of fabric she kept lying around for design projects and practice, choosing the darker fabrics without giving it a thought. At an inquiry from the shop keeper, she explained that she owed the man, Altais, a debt of gratitude for today, and that she would explain everything later. Well, almost everything, she amended to herself. The instance in the coffee shop could be omitted, she was sure. Emerging from the back, she walked over to Altais, and laid the different bolts of fabric on the floor for him to peruse. She couldn't help the slight blush that crept up her cheeks as the scene from earlier played over and over in her mind, but she kept her voice and manner professional as only habit could lend itself to. This was her job, her passion.
"As you can see, we have many different types, weights, and colors of fabric here." The pride in her voice was evident. "I was thinking an evening shirt, elegant and tailored to yourself, with clean lines. With a heavier fabric, items in pockets will be less likely to be seen, especially when using darker colors of fabrics." She thought about the types of items he might hide, besides the knives she knew he possessed from the fight in the alley earlier. A flint stone, coin purse, and possibly other items approximately the size of his hands, she guessed. "The sleeves will be more loose, but not excessively so, so as to hide the items hidden in the sleeves. Too loose, and the items will create unwanted weight that pulls at the lines. Too tight, and they will be seen against the skin." As she considered her task, the excitement of a challenge lit her eyes.

Beaming at his praise, Pykichi felt a flush of pride as he spoke of becoming her regular patron. A high honor indeed, but not one that she could immediately accept. While she was the most experienced of anyone at the shop, save the owner himself, it was to the owner that she owed everything. Until that time when she could pay him back for the debt of training, upbringing, and fabrics that had been ruined in her younger days of just starting out, she would belong to him. This meant that commissions were still required to go through the owner. Considering the bulk of required items that it seemed Altais' guild required, Pykichi doubted that it would become a problem. Before she could mention anything, however, Altais had stripped his shirt and sleeves. With an intake of breath and an almost audible swallow, Pykichi scanned the myriad wounds on his body. She knew nothing of the tools used to create the wounds, and the pain of each one was inconceivable to her. True, the ends of the fingers on her left hand had lost some of the feeling in them due to the countless times of being pricked by needles, and she had been cut by fabric shears now and then. Yet, It was nothing compared to what this man must have gone through.

She quickly caught herself from staring for too long, and reached for her measuring length of twisted thread. It had different colored marks every few measures, creating a pattern along the entire rope. Pykichi instructed Altais to stand in the middle of the area where customers were measured. From there, she was unobstructed by any objects, free to move around him as needed. With rope, paper, and chalk at the ready, Pykichi measured his neck, chest, waist, and the length from his shoulder to hip. Next she measured his arm length, and width at the biceps, elbow, pronator and flexor muscle width, and finally wrist. As each measurement was made, she wrote down the numbers on the paper, taking detailed notes as she did so. Looking past the scars, Altais was still quite attractive. His muscles were clearly defined, and it was clear that he took good care of his body. Newer shop girls might have blushed at having to come in such intimate contact with him, but Pykichi had become focused on her job, seeing just another body in front of her. She had long since stopped blushing at measurement taking, learning to see bodies as mannequins rather than people. Later, she could reminisce about the different textures of his smooth skin versus the scars, the warmth of his body, and the deliciousness of his muscles. But at the moment, all that mattered were the notations.

When she was finished, Altais was shown back to his chair. Gathering up a few more pieces of paper, Pykichi set about drawing up designs of different shirts and sleeves. While she drew, she began to talk. "While I would love to form a partnership with you and your guild, I"m afraid that you will have to take up talk of such a partnership with the owner of this establishment. Until I have finished my apprenticeship and paid back all debts accrued through learning and using fabrics and supplies, all contracts are to be written up with him."

Pykichi's mouth opened and closed, much like a fish. What Altais had just said made no sense to her. But in the span of 2 minutes, her entire life had suddenly been turned upside down. Had she not already been sitting, she would have surely fallen on legs turned to jelly.

Slightly miffed, she looked at her nearly finished sketches, and then up at the man who had just bought her. "But Altais. You haven't seen the finished designs. How can you be sure that I am able to create what you're looking for?"

While she finished the designs for Altais, Pykichi turned his offer over and over in her head. She had always known that someday she would own her own shop, this was not the path that she had expected. No, she had always figured that she would continue to be the assistant to the owner, learning how to run the business, oversee the new apprentices, and eventually taking over. But to open up her own store, completely independent? Such a dream was beyond her wildest imaginations. Her dreams had always been focused on the different types of clothes that she could create.

Her own store. She looked to the owner, who hadn't moved from his spot behind the register. His face was one of stunned disbelief, probably similar to her own, Pykichi mused. For the first time, she dared a glance at the money she had set to the side as she drew. It was easily more than she had ever seen at one time, and certainly more than she had ever held. Who was this man, that he could buy a store for someone he barely knew? She knew he wasn't a saint, but at that moment, he was almost some kind of god in her eyes. She wasn't sure whether to bow before him, or curse him, however.

Staring at the crowns distractedly, she could feel the weight of what they represented. The weight of the decision she must make. At the age of 19, she was past the age of majority. Once her debt was clear, she was free to do as she wished. If she lived alone, without any family or friends, if the shop keeper had been a disgusting pervert like the stall owner earlier that afternoon, had she hated her life in any way, she would have most likely jumped at the chance to be free. But she liked where she was in life. She helped support her family with the pay she earned as an apprentice. And the owner, though demanding and brusque, knew her limits, trusted her, and taught her so much. She knew she could learn so much more from him. To suddenly abandon him and the girls in the shop would leave a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn't the type to do that. She owed him so much more than a monetary sum. And the girls would suddenly have to pick up all the projects that she had been working on. The load would wreak havoc. No one was as quick and precise as her, or had the experience that she had. Besides that, she liked them all. She was the big sister of the shop. The guilt of just the thought of leaving was too much.

Pykichi closed her eyes, and took a breath to compose herself. Opening them, she stood up, keeping the distance between them the same. A mild wind would have pushed them together. With determination, she met Altais' eyes. "What you have offered me is a wonderful opportunity. To be independent and able to run my own store is something I never dared dream of. And yet... I'm sorry, Altais. I cannot accept this money. I have obligations, debts of the heart, to think of. I have more to learn from my mentor, not just in learning to sew. I have a life that I have enjoyed creating here at the store that I'm not yet ready to leave. In a few years, I will be better prepared for such an offer. And if you're still a willing patron, I would be more than honored to accept your offer." Pykichi smiled ruefully. She knew this chance might never come again. Especially after his comment of all the tailors that his guild already employed. But that was a sacrifice that she would willingly make.

But my offer still stands on the shirt, if you'd have it. I have drawn up a few designs for you to choose from. She rushed on, afraid that he might refuse anything from her after she turned down his offer. Turning the drawings toward him, she pointed out the details of the different designs. The first is a vest lined with pockets. It's simple, and while I suppose it could be worn alone, it is meant to go over shirts. The second design is a sleeveless shirt, with detached sleeves. The sleeves are attached with lengths of cord tied around the top, and matching cord is wrapped around the bottom of the sleeves, giving them weight. Pockets circle the insides of the sleeves. Matching cord is used to detail the chest of the tunic, which closes with crossing stays. Again, more pockets will line the the tunic at the shoulders at the collar bone, and around the bottom of the tunic. The third shirt is meant to deceive anyone that might attack by surprise. It has clean cut-outs which show skin, with pockets interspersed around the shirt accessible by the cut-outs. Most people wouldn't think to look for anything hidden on a shirt that reveals so much. The sleeves can detach, and of course, there are pockets hidden among them as well."

Mesmerizing, was Pykichi's first thought. And her only thought for a few moments. Everything else had disappeared in the world. Her designs, His words, the shop and everyone in it. His eyes were like glass balls. Not the pale, unfocused orbs of the blind, nor the eyes covered by blurred white cataracts that some of the older patrons had. Altais' eyes were a clear, iced blue that she had never seen before. Something within them pulled at her.

At the clearing of his throat, the owner pulled Pykichi from her reverie. As Altais' back was to him, the owner had not seen his eyes. He had only noticed that Pykichi had stopped talking or working, and was ignoring what Altais said. She blushed a deep red, bowing to Altais and apologizing. Afraid that she would become entranced again, she kept her eyes down and to the side, reaching her hand out for the length of silk. As if Altais understood her problem, the fabric was placed into her hand, warm from the heat of his body. She turned and went behind the front table, to a basket set among a set of shelves. Pulling the wooden handle, she brought the basket out, and carried it back to Altais.

With a smile, Pykichi gestured to Altais to resume his seat from before, looking no higher than his nose. She herself sat on the floor and began to concentrate. This man continually caught her off guard. She then berated herself for that thought. It was her own fault for not being professional enough to take everything in stride. As she studied the worn edges, trimming the frayed strings, folding the thread and pinning it into a straight hem, she began to speak. "I think I understand why you wear this blindfold," she said. "Your eyes are a beautiful, unique color that I have never seen before. Even know, I am tempted to stare into them and attempt to figure out what color they are. But I would imagine that being stared at by people would be uncomfortable." Pykichi sorted through the basket, pulling out needles, pins, and thread that almost perfectly matched the silk in her hand. Though the fabric was worn, she could tell that it was of fine quality and well cared for. She would be sure to take special care while mending it. She tossed the thread back into the basket, and searched for a stronger type. Finding a black that would blend in closely enough, she pulled the spool out. With this thread, the ends would be sure to last longer, and less likely to break. It was mostly used for the corsets they made, made to withstand the strain of tightly laced stays. "As for your shirt, if I heard correctly, you mentioned being partial to the middle design?" With the quick movement of practiced motions, thread was unwound, the end moistened between her lips and slipped through the eye of the needle. She pulled the thread double the length of her arm, and threaded the end through the needle again. Pulling the thread so that she had three equal lengths, she snipped the string from the spool, and tied off the end. Folding the edge of the cloth towards the middle, Pykichi used an overcast stitch to keep the ends from fraying. As she worked, Pykichi continued speaking. "Was there a particular fabric that you had in mind from the examples that I brought out? If nothing among our samples were to your liking, more can be brought out for your perusal." She finished the overcast stitches, tying off the end and snipping the thread. After tying the ends of the thread once again, she began a running stitch over what she had just done. Pykichi quickly finished, careful to space the stitches out so that the fabric would not stress from the thickness of the thread.

As Altais took the blindfold from her, she looked up at him. The blindfold slid into place before she could take a look at his eyes again, his eyes completely covering any chance, and she gave a mental frown of disappointment. But at his inquiry, she stood up, watching as he made his way to the door in a dangerous matter. "The herbalist? Yes, it's right around the corner. Are you ok?" To which she mentally kicked herself. Obviously, he was not ok. His voice sounded strange, and the strength and confidence that he had was missing. Pykichi rushed towards him, a worried look on her face. With a backwards yell, she told the owner that she'd take him to the herbalist, make sure he was ok, and return. It was still her day off, so she was free do as she wished. Propping a shoulder under his arm on the side that had fallen against a wall, she stuck herself to his side, giving him support. She hoped that he wasn't the stubborn male type that refused help, but she'd do her best nonetheless. "Let me take you there. If something were to happen on the way, I'd regret it."

Never before had it been so hard to not pry. Pykichi bit her lip as Altais sunk to the floor after ingesting the deadly powder. She didn't understand what just happened, and was more than a little afraid that he had just killed himself. Why he would do such a thing was beyond Pykichi, but then, as she had said before, this man always kept her guessing. She could do nothing but sit quietly and wait until he recovered. Surely he would recover. With a nod to the shop keeper, she slipped to the floor, and watched Altais' face for any signs that he had given up the ghost. Though he was quiet, his chest continued to rise and fall. At last, he stirred and rose.

"Are you better now?" Pykichi asked from the floor. "You had me worried there for a bit. If you need to rest some more, we can stay here for a bit longer." She was still worried, but the sharp beatings of her heart had quieted down now that Altais was moving again. She waited to get up until he was sure he was alright again, not wanting to pressure him to more action than he could handle at the moment.