text;

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OPEN FOR BUSINESS

Crowley's Custom Tailoring

Great deals and great craftmanship for men and women.

Just because there's no real economy and we all smell like patchouli doesn't mean that you have to look like you smell like patchouli.

Come find me in the marketplace or send me a message here with custom orders and inquiries.

[ Attached is a flattering picture of him and an address. ]

Comments

action!

[goesdown]

[ Crowley's got a few signs up and there are a few mock-ups he's put together to display. When she comes by, he's sewing a button onto a vest. ]

[chuvihani]

[ She knocks lightly on the doorframe to signal her arrival, taking in the display. ]

Finally, something that's not a tank top.

[ Clothes aren't that important, in the scheme of things, but they are a measure of outward personality. Wanda thinks a bit of individual style can't be a bad thing. ]

[goesdown]

[ Crowley grins up at her from his seat. ]

I understand that there are limited resources here, but that doesn't meany we can't do our best to look nice, does it?

[chuvihani]

It does do a certain something for morale.

[ Something seldom in abundance around these parts, although they're never short on grim determination. Wanda makes her way over to glance at the vest Crowley is working on. ]

How long does something like that take you to make?

[ She's in no rush for her own self, but she is curious about the process. ]

[goesdown]

A day. It will be less once I get more dexterity back in my hands.

[ He's been working tirelessly on his hands. Everything else, he accepts, will come with time, but he needs his hands back to what he remembers. Being this slow and clumsy is killing him, even if it's better than when he'd first been unplugged. ]

What are you looking for?

[chuvihani]

[ Relearning those skills is something she thinks is vital to recovery -- even the ones that aren't this practical, like Wanda and dance. It's a matter of identity. Not unlike apparel.

Speaking of which: she offers up the sketch she's brought, which features a long dress with a slit up one leg, a sleeveless racerback top, and a hood. It's an attempt to blend the practicality required in Zion with her own tastes, which tend toward a semi-revealing adaptation of her people's cultural attire. Red coloring in any great volume is out of the question, she's aware, so she'll stick with monochrome. ]

I'm not exactly an artist, but this is what I've got.

[goesdown]

[ Crowley puts aside his work to look at her sketch. It's not too complex for where his skills are, not that he wouldn't force himself to try even if it was. ]

I can do this. I'll need your measurements, but I can have it in a few days if you like any of the fabrics I have. It might take longer if I have to look for anything.

[ He glances over at her. ]

You'll look good in this. Not every woman can pull it off.

[chuvihani]

[ She looks pleased, although she has to think if she even knows her own measurements (well, she knew them before, surely they can't be too different now...?). ]

Thank you. I'm hoping so. [ The thanks is both for the compliment and the intended dress. Wanda smiles, turning to have a look around the room. ] I'll yield to your expertise on what fabric might work best; color and cut I had in mind, but that part leaves me less certain.

[goesdown]

[ Crowley picks up a paper tape measure that he's clearly made himself. In fact, a look around will show many tools that have been home made or improvised entirely. There are things he's had to barter for, but anything he can make himself, he has. ]

I have something in mind that should work nicely. Now if you don't mind, arms out to the side.

[chuvihani]

[ Such is life in this city -- it beats living as a teenage vagrant in the mountains, certainly, but it's also not easy. Those lacking in some kind of industriousness probably aren't the sort of people who get extracted, a thought that has occurred to her before.

Wanda obligingly extends her arms, chin up, holding still in order to be measured. ]

Was that difficult to make? The tape measure.

[goesdown]

No. I only needed something I was sure was an inch. From there, it was just a matter of being repetitive.

[ For a man whose bread and butter tends to be making people uncomfortable with the use of sexual innuendo, he becomes oddly professional now, hands staying on the tape measure or at her side if he connects. ]

When I learned to sew, we didn't have all the modern tools they have now--or did... in the Matrix I came from. This all isn't too far off from what I learned in the first place.