• Solo • [Eureka] Patchwork Life

The surrounding lands of Rharne boast several towns and settlements that lie on the northern shores of the River Zynyx. This includes Mistral Village, Caervalle Town, Zynyx Market and Volta.

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Dandelion
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[Eureka] Patchwork Life

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29 Cylus 722
OOC note
Words in red are indicators for the writing challenge.

This thread covers the following challenges:
Thread challenges:
1. Write a thread that includes a box, a piece of chalk, and a spider.
5. Write a thread that includes a ribbon, an egg, and a rabbit.
7. Start a post with the line, "I didn't know it then, but I'd walked into a nightmare."
8. Write a thread that references an Immortal your PC has never met.
9. End a post with the line, "That's when he/she/I/they knew, he/she/I/they had no control."
10. Write a thread that includes rainbows, a song (written with lyrics that are properly attributed if necessary or not original), and a reptile. (Song original, full details here)

Character challenges:
2. Earn 5 knowledge in a single skill in a thread. (hopefully)
5. Describe your character's home in a thread or in your CS.
Dan rummaged through the compartments of the box he had been given two Zi'das ago, gently moving aside the carefully folded paper and coiled ribbon that had wrapped it at the time. Saoire had been there, the only Immortal he'd ever met in person, though of course, Ilaren ruled Rhane, and her decrees had probably shaped his life in some way.

The tailor's chalk had fallen out of his sewing kit, but it had to be in the box somewhere. He found it at last, buried in the bottom corner of one of the compartments, and shoved it into his pocket instead while he put everything back. He closed the lid, slid the seperate back piece into position, and locked it, turning the box from a box into a seat. He retrieved a bag of worn out rags that he was slowly turning into patchwork squares (when he had enough squares, he planned to join them into a quilt, but that was a long way off yet), and settled himself on the chair near the brazier.

He would have more space and more light if he went down to the Inn, but there was also more people there, and after almost a full Cylus around them, he wanted a break. He wanted to sit in his own space, doing his own thing at his own pace, and getting absorbed in his work. He couldn't get fully absorbed around other people. There was always a hypervigilant corner of his mind that insisted on staying alert and keeping an eye out for anyone approaching him or trying to talk to him.

Besides, his tent was home. He had spent so many Cyluses tucked inside it, making things while his ponies ate and slept on the far side that it felt like a place he could relax in. Ten feet by twelve feet of unbleached canvas, softened and insulated these trials by plain cream coloured felt hangings. A carpet of pine boughs covered the floor and insulated him from the cold, a brazier gave him heat and light and the option to cook if he wished, and a box bed of lashed-together boards, filled with more pine boughs and piled high with blankets served him as a bed. His cart was tucked into the far end, holding most of his other possessions. All in all, it was plain and simple, but cozy enough for him, and best of all, fully portable. He didn't need to stay in one place. Although right now, he realised, glancing up, he had been in one place long enough for a spider to weave a web in one of the top corners of the tent, though what it thought it was going to catch in Cylus, he had no idea.

Some trial, he hoped to be able to decorate the felt hangings, with embroidery, or dye, or appliqued designs. The problem was that it would take time, and in general, the only time he had to sit down and take on such a major project were exactly the same seasons as the seasons where he needed to have the hangings up on the walls for warmth.

They muffled sound a bit too, which he was glad of. Not that Eureka was louder than the wild, particularly. Anyone who thought nature was quiet hadn't been woken up by a dawn chorus of umpteen birds shrieking at the tops of their little lungs. It was worst in mating season, before they laid their eggs, but in general birds had three main messages and they wanted to be sure you got them. Fekk me (I'm sexy), Fekk you (I can sing/perform/do better than that), and Fekk off (this is my territory). Knowing which was which was always a good clue as to what was around and whether it was dangerous.

The sounds here were just different, and harder to understand. Even now, tucked away in his tent, if he listened for it, he could hear voices and singing drifting over from the Inn.


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"Signed words" Spoken words
Last edited by Dandelion on Tue Apr 26, 2022 1:48 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 850
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Dandelion
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Joined: Fri Feb 01, 2019 6:43 pm
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Re: [Eureka] Patchwork Life

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I didn't know it then,
But I'd walked into a nightmare.

I just thought she was a pony
Someone placed into my care...

Dan sighed, and turned his main focus back to patchwork. He used the tailor's chalk to trace around the template, outlining the shape he needed to cut on the cloth, and then used scissors to cut along the line. He repeated the process until he had as many pieces as he could get from that particular rag, and then began to sew them together using straight stitch (some of his stitches went a little crooked, but the line as a whole was straight enough and strong enough to make a decent seam.) Tailor's chalk left a visible line behind it on the cloth, and wouldn't smudge at a touch, but it could be easily removed once you were finished with it without leaving any permanent marks behind. The template made sure that all the pieces matched up to make a square, rather than trying to fit pieces together that were only approximately the right size and shape.

This square, he decided, would have a snake on it as decoration - most of the squares he had made for the future quilt had something from nature, since all the colors of the cloth were the mottled browns and beiges that he wore every day. (He wore his clothes until they were rags, than used the rags for things like wrapping gathered plants until they were too worn to keep the plants secure, and then used what was left in patchwork like this.) The previous square he had finished, had a wonky rabbit on it, head up, outlined in back stitch, with a satin stitch eye. He could do the snake the same way.

Unlike running stitch, where the gaps between stitches where roughly the same size as the stitch itself, straight stitch left only a tiny gap between stitches. Back stitch made a continous line by bringing the needle up after a stitch length gap, and then coming back down where the previous stitch had come up. Satin stitch was also made of straight stitches, but rather than being one after the other in a line, the stitches were next to each other so that they covered an area of cloth.

It took time, which he had in abundance at this time of the arc, and patience, which he tried to have, but didn't always succeed, and care and repetition, which gave him something to focus on and kept his hands occupied rather than fiddling with whatever objects happened to be nearest to him.

Slowly, the square took shape in his hands, without any puckers or tears so big that he would need to go back and fix them, and he sighed with satisfaction. The square itself wasn't that big or bulky either, it was when the small squares came together that they turned into something bigger and warmer and better than the sum of their parts.

People were like that too. He'd had the chance to see close up, with some folk he could talk to and others who were willing to learn in order to be able to talk to him, how, in a place like this, individual lives, even ones as small and shabby as a worn out rag, could join together to build something bigger and warmer and better than they could create on their own.

It must be nice to feel truly a part of it, but he wasn't, quite, one of them. Not here, not now, not with their limited skills with sign. But they were trying, and that mattered too, because life couldn't be all sunshine and rainbows, sometimes it was just keeping on going through the rain. In proof of that, he bent his head over his work once more and kept going, needle dipping in and out of the cloth in time to that distant song.


...And every kindness made her dwindle,
Years unfurling to a foal.
Scared, and lonely, that's when I knew
That she had no control...
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"Signed words" Spoken words
word count: 698
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Re: [Eureka] Patchwork Life

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Player Name: Dandelion

XP Reward: 10
Magic: none

Knowledge:

Fieldcraft: the three main kinds of birdsong
Needlecraft: making a patchwork square
Needlecraft: using a template for precision
Needlecraft: straight stitch
Needlecraft: back stitch
Needlecraft: satin stitch



Skill Review: All Skills used appropriately to PC's level
Notes: Ahh, I do love myself a relaxing Dandelion solo. It was nice reading about what Dandelion's usual set up for a camp looks like. And this was a very good way of incorporating all of those challenges into one thread! The narrative flowed very beautifully, with some vivid imagery there for the Cylus season. Well done!

I love the song choice, and I love Dandelion's hopeful and increasingly optimistic outlook toward the people he encounters. He's a good egg.

Great writing!


If you have any questions, comments, or concerns regarding this review, feel free to PM. Enjoy your rewards!
word count: 149
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