ArchivedLogs:Tearing Holes

Tearing Holes
Dramatis Personae Anette, Dusk, Isra
In Absentia	2016-01-28 "I prefer to try to fit it to us, when I can."
Location <BOM> Common Room - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
The common room's rustic-lodge feel has been somewhat mitigated by the modern amenities inside its sturdy wooden walls. It has comfortable couches, several chairs, a refrigerator (stocked with snacks and drinks!), a pool table, a pinball machine (METALLICA!), an assortment of books, a television -- with several game systems! -- and a splendid view out the windows (when their lacy yellow curtains are drawn open) for the rest of the island. The pale wood floors have been covered in places -- by a pair of soft thick blue rugs, by a large squishy pair of beanbags that stand in front of the stone fireplace. There's also a board up on the wall, half corkboard, half whiteboard, with a variety of community notes (and occasional insults) to other Brotherhood members. Large doors on the right-hand side lead off to the kitchen and dining room. In the back of the room, the council room's heavy oak door bears solid locks that are almost never actually barred. A short hall adjacent to the council room's door leads to a trio of multi-stalled bathrooms; these might once have been marked with the typical man-woman-handicapped signs, but someone has given them new plaques on the door; a stick figure with horns and a long tail, one with wings. One -- the large single-user toilet -- has instead been given a helmet and a cape. Dinner has long since come and gone, and the Common Room is relatively quiet, at the moment. The television is playing -- /Arrow/ -- though the volume is on low, the captions turned on at the bottom of the screen. Over the sound of the show there's a low whir, the sound of a sewing machine working steadily. Dusk has dragged in a stool, a squat table; his wings -- ornately designed with a constant shifting flicker of flame hues -- draped down behind his back. He's shirtless, at the moment, barefoot and only dressed in faded old brown corduroys. His attention is partially on the screen though mostly on the black and blue wrap shirt taking form under his hands. The front door opens and Anette steps in, kicking the snow off her boots before she steps in the room. The sound of the whirring sewing machines catches her attention and she watches Dusk for a moment. "Didn't know you sewed," she says, slipping her coat off her shoulders and hanging it on a nearby hook as she stretches her wings out. Unlike Dusk, she is most definitely wearing a shirt, a Led Zepplin shirt that has been adjusted slightly to accommodate her wings. She makes her way in and makes herself comfy on the couch, sitting on it length-wise with her own wings hanging over the arms, her legs stretched out, and she turns her head to watch Dusk work. "Don't mind me, just enjoying the view," she says with a playful smirk, her eyes clearly focused on Dusk as he leans over the machine. Curled sidewise in an armchair, Isra has a tablet cradled in one arm and a stylus in the opposite hand, making modifications to a clothing pattern--a dress, by the looks of it. She wears a white himation, her skin a rippling seascape of blue and purple with white wavecrests across the wings that hang down over the side of the chair to mantle behind her. Her tail twitches at irregular intervals when she glances up at the screen, and when she looks over Dusk's shoulder at his progress. "Good evening, Anette," she says quietly as her sister enters. "He taught /me/ how to sew, even. It's a rather helpful skill for the likes of us." The circular curl of her wing indicates her inclusion of the owl woman in 'us.' Dusk tips his head upwards with a quick flash of fangs in a warm smile. "Unfortunately I gotta wear shirts /sometimes/. Not really any way to get them to sit right if I don't --" One thumbclaw flicks towards the shirt he is working on. "I mean I did the just-cut-new-tears-in-them thing for a few years but that got old. How do you do yours?" He's paused in his work, now, head craning slightly to peer towards Anette's shirt. "I actually never really learned how to sew, other than some mending and hemming," Anette says to Isra, briefly glancing at her own task before turning back to Dusk. "Yeah, I take the just-cut-new-tears-in-them approach. Course, I try to clean up the edges a bit and make it look a little nice. By hand though, never touched a sewing machine in my life." She gives a light shrug. "Now if they could make wing friendly bras, I'd be happy." "Modifying the kind of off-the-rack clothing you two prefer is actually harder than making the sort of drapey, flowy things I like. But mending and hemming /is/ a start." Isra shrugs, the movement in her wings rather than her shoulders. "I could give you some recommendations, though I have never needed more than sports bras." She glances down without any evident regret at the flat, muscular plane of her own chest. "Have you looked into backless bras? Not just the adhesive types, but ones with straps that cross very low on your back, or have a halter loop up top. Or the kind with detachable straps?" "Definitely a lot harder to make regular-people clothes look like they fit us than just to --" Dusk twitches a claw towards Isra and her flowing white wrap. "But then again it always takes a fuckton of work to make the regular world work for us. Flicker built half the furniture that burned down with my old house." There's a small regretful sigh here. "I /miss/ the scoop-backs on those dining chairs." He glances up towards Anette thoughtfully. "Bras I don't know so much of but if you ever want something adjusted in particular just hit me up, yeah? I mean, I could teach you, too, if you wanted." "I'm not really the drapey, flowy type though. I kinda like my band t-shirts," Anette says, returning Isra's shrug with a shoulder one of her own. The comment about never needing anything more than a sports bra gets a grin and a brief glance at her own relatively flat chest. "I lean more towards no bra when I can. So comfy. Never tried the fancier bras, I always figured you needed something to, you know- " She motions vaguely to her own chest, "-hold the bra in place." She glances toward Dusk and nods slightly. "I haven't had too much issue with furniture. I've gotten pretty god at tetris-ing the wings around the furniture, though it can get annoying. But yeah, maybe I will take you up on that offer. Just to see what happens." "However you're most comfortable." Isra smile a fangy smile. "Clothing, furniture, /architecture/, even," she says, her stylus going still over the screen, "we constantly fit ourselves down into a world designed for people with only four limbs." A faint, low growl rises in her throat, though it does not interrupt her speech, and she does not otherwise seem /angry/. "I prefer to try to fit it to us, when I can." She taps the side of the tablet with her stylus. "What happens is mostly your clothes start looking goddamn fantastic. I mean, that goes for everyone, wings or not. Like, pretty much the only reason celebrities always look like a million dollars is because the only way /anyone/ looks good all the time is getting all their clothes tailored to them so /everything/ is flattering." Dusk gestures to the sewing machine. "Tiny bit of alteration and suddenly you've turned your thrift store jeans and band tee into, like, /damn/, rocking it, for no cash at all." His wings unfurl, stretching out in a lazy slow roll. "If only refitting the world were so easy. I'd take a needle and thread to every damn room I have to be in." "Well, I certainly wouldn't say no to looking even more fantastic," Anette says with a grin at Dusk's excitement. "Alright, you've convinced me. When do the lessons start?" She listens to Isra's mini-rant, nodding along. "Clearly, the only logical solution is to become nudists. Preferably during summer." She sighs and leans back, looking up to the ceiling as the discussion shifts to refitting the world.. "Hmm, I think I'd still stick with my 'just-tear-holes-in-it' tactic." Isra arches one eyebrow. "I like /my/ clothes just fine when they suit my needs, but I certainly haven't any objection to other people wearing less." Her smile slowly broadens to a sharp grin. "Well. There /is/ a lot of world out that that could use some tearing." "Soon as you like. I actually refit a whole back panel on the shirts it -- gives a lot more comfortable movement plus it makes it /hella/ easier to get on and off than trying to fit through regular holes." Dusk looks down at his own bare chest after this, eyebrows raising. "Hey, I'm already doing my part." His wings pull back in, draping languidly down against his back. His smile is wide and sharp. "And I feel like we've /all/ been doing our part on /that/ front." "Truth be told, I do like your style. Very...Greek goddess. Elegant," Anette says, eyes flitting over Isra's flowy and drapey style. She glances towards Dusk, eyeing his currently project curiously. "I could always use move movement. And we all appreciate your effort," she says with a wink. "On both accounts."