slip stitch with broken strings

Strelein von Rosnete · 01-24-2012, 08:14 PM

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578
I wish to slap you for your length because I read it all and groaned. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY.

Strel furrowed his brows and nodded along with puckered lips. Modestly, he shrugged, though a cocky grin slipped onto his lips. "I'm sure I've got enough skill for a spiral or two," he said with a chuckle. There was, perhaps, one or two modest bones in the gaudy man's body, though anyone looking for them was hard pressed to figure out which one it was. They had to be tiny bones, for his ego was enormous. It was bigger than his head and was like a balloon of pride. Once in the past, he had been far more modest in his makings. But the moment he passed from apprentice to skilled, he dropped the pretense and acted with a level of pride and bragging was included. Granted, he had had no right to act that way at first, but now he had nothing but pride in his head. Mated and with a successful job, on top of high rank, he was definitely in a very happy place.

While his studio had some of his better example, his upstairs closet was significantly better. It was filled with so many clothes ranging from women's skirts to a pair or two of extra jeans. Noss did not use his clothing, namely because the man preferred to go without more often, though he had been a mannequin often enough. There were pilfered shelves from Halifax made of wood with room for folded and hanging clothes. His bolts of cloth were up there as well, against the wall. A table had been set up there for sewing as well as use as a familial dinning table. Thankfully, they ate there infrequently and often cleaned quickly so there was little chance of damage to his precious, precious clothes. It was both a closet and a storage room for all his personal things. Noss had plenty of store room in the main bedroom, where the old human bathroom walls had been removed and the facilities removed and wooden boards was placed over the area to create more storage space.

The redhead snapped back to reality again, wondering why his mind was wandering so much at the moment. "I figure just using those light ones, so they can capture light better and not create a vomit of rainbows," he confessed crudely, shrugging as he looked at the sketch again. The lines were rough and there smudges where the woman's fingers touched the paper after being coated in charcoal dust. Forgetting himself, the Dauphin grabbed himself the moist rag in a small plastic tub and handed it to the woman so she might clean off her fingers.

"Red?" he mused, smiling slightly at the mention of the color. Red was one of his favorite colors, as was obvious in the hairstyle he always had. Henna dyed red hair was his distinct calling card and he flaunted the color often. It was his favorite and that was the way it was. But it may not have had a place here. "No.. I don't think so. I think perhaps white and gold colors instead? Red is a bit strange with this coat color being purple. If it was black, perhaps, but not with this," he said, shaking his head slightly. Pulling a red thread from the hooks, he placed the bobbin against the coat. It was alright but he could not see it working. "I don't think so.. what do you think?"

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