Log:Tuesday's Coat
Tuesday's Coat
OOC Date: May 21, 2017
Location: Art Gallery
Participants: Bruce Tuesday, Rheisa Dirleel
"Is 'red'," Instructs the older of the two Togruta present at the Muse's desk to the younger, with a finger point to one of many beads currently ensnared in his little hand. Said beads are still hung 'round her neck, but his seat on the desktop puts them easily within reach. "Red."
"Rrrreh," poorly parrots the tyke with the confident smile of an honor student.
"Rrrreh-Da" Rheisa enunciates with bigger emphasis on the third letter, then pulls an unattached strand of beads from his other hand before it can close the distance to his mouth. Swollen gums are in urgent need of teething, ma! What gives!? These two big boy fangs aren't breaking through quietly.
Bruce Tuesday bows his against the wind as he makes his way from the hotel, down Knuckle Street, and into the Entertainment Plaza. It seems his coat has been finished, and the investigator is interested to see the final result. It takes awhile to navigate through the Plaza, as Bruce seems to be arriving at the end of the day when most beings are leaving. He moves against the crowd, at least thankful for the bodies between him and the driving wind.
He reaches the art gallery and enters, pausing to wipe his boots before he does so. Bruce glances around, catching sight of both Togrutas behind the desk. He watches them for a second, smiling, and then approaches. The investigator seems to be drawn to the corner of the desk with the caff dispenser. "Good Evening! Now who is this young man?"
Probably there are some cups stacked up there without ‘gruta drool on them. Some. The smaller of the two is too engrossed in this game of mimicry called ‘speech’ to notice Bruce’s approach until the man is AT the desk and making considerable noise to his left. Umak startles with a wide-eyed look around. Owlish, yellow eyes regard the stranger with undecided feelings about the matter until Rheisa bows her head in greeting. He imitates the gesture, then points to another bead inside his grimy fist and educates Bruce - “Bloo.”
His mother isn’t too strangled to make a verbal reply, on his behalf. “Is Umak. These days he stay more with friends, but...no one to take, today.” There’s a line of tension across her brow in conflict with her smile as she strokes a little spit off his chin with her thumb. Her other hand is already fishing in a drawer to find something better suited to occupy the kid’s time while she takes time for grownup business.
Still smiling, Bruce offers both of them a bowed head in return. His eyes linger on the boy and his smile broadens as Umak identifies the bead in his hand. "Yep, that's a blue one!" He thinks it looks more like turquoise, but he isn't about to patronize a child. Bruce looks up at his mother, noting the line of tension on her brow, but he says nothing. Instead he looks back down at the Tot-gruta, "Hello Umak, I'm Bruce." He eyes the child's grimy hands and offers another bow of his head, and then turns to the caff dispenser. Down to business. He seems to remember the machine well enough from the last two times, and his fingers fairly dance across the buttons, selecting temperature and volume. The man pulls a clean cup from the stack, inspects it discreetly, and sets it down under the dispenser just before the liquid begins pouring.
Umak looks pleased with his clear ability to charm this stranger and is about to show off with another color naming but his focus gets sidetracked by the appearance of a rotund, flabby-shaped wooden creature. A....chuba? Whatever it is, the baseball-sized thing is immediately snatched between his greedy hands and his mouth attacks voraciously. Mmmmm, splinters.
"You get my message about coat, yes?" Rheisa picks Umak up and plunks him down behind the desk before performing the reverse action with something bundled on the floor. It's cocooned within a laaaarge garment bag.
His caff poured, Bruce brings the cup to his lips and takes a long sip as he watches Rheisa place the child on the ground and replace him with a large bag. "Yes I did, it is all finished?" Bruce looks on with a gleam in his eye, excited to finally have some protection from the unyieldingly poor weather on Nar Shaddaa.
"It is!" Rheisa proclaims with a broad grin and works to wrestle the thing inside free from its protective sheath. When she succeeds and lays it lovingly out across the desk, Bruce can see for himself that - as in all instances - protection comes at a cost. In this case, that cost might be aesthetic-related. "Is much warm."
Behold: A...coat? A mumu? A poncho?
WTF is this?
It's damn fine, that's what! Sleek, gray fabric constitutes most of the outer layer of this long-sleeved, floor-length garment. Its shape? Shapeless. No cinching at the waist, no flare from the hips, no crisply tailored sleeves...just wide all around which could either leave ample space for /any/ angle of movement, or overwhelm and ensnare the wearer if they arent accustomed to such flowy (but heavy) fashion.
Its construct appears very simple: two identical pieces - a front and back - that were then sewn together along the edges before the front was slit clean up the middle. Its not just any stitching holding it together, of course! Thin, green leather cord laces up the sleeves to collar and down either side from armpit to ankle. The front closures are equally primitive - slits on one side, artfully whittled bone teeth on the other. Buttons!
Occasionally, people get cold. To ward off such shivery feelings, the inside is lined with plush, black fur. A matching ruff of this fur lines the OUTSIDE of the collar, too, for added flare.
So there you have it! A quirky blend of modern and prehistoric fabrics, hand knotted together symmetrically in the shapeless shape of whats essentially a leathery-smelling mumu. The only thing that could possibly make this better (worse) is a custom, beaded belt! Hmmmm. What's that folded up alongside....
Bruce Tuesday is halfway through another long gulp of caff when Rheisa pulls the coat from the bag and presents it on the table. His arm drops to his side and he slowly swallows as he looks the garment over. His eyes are fairly gleaming at the thought of wearing the large coat out into a terrible storm. He looks it over closely, his hands going over the different materials. Bruce traces his fingers along the green stitching and finally come to rest at the whittled bone fasteners. After a long moment of investigating the coat, he finally looks up at Rheisa. "This is amazing. I knew I came to the right person." His eyes look back down to the coat again, taking it all in a second time. "How much do I owe you for this beautiful thing?"
Rheisa's held breath expels a relieved, if not slightly giddy sigh and she clasps her hands over her belly with a little squeeze. Her face flushes with a happily richer color - the little bit that failing health allows - before casting a more humbled gaze upon the floor. Pride: a Togruta's almost-ultimate sin. "Material cost almost nothing. You bring me most, leave me with extra, which will be put to use elsewheres. Much of this I do at home when Umak and Rraim have gone to sleep, so take not much time from here. So...one hundred credit?" She hastily unfolds the sash-like belt. It is black, with a few choice medallions anchored along the length by black thread. The chrome 'bling' is a little distressed by patina and has been hand-hammered into coin-shaped bits.
By popular standards....this thing is ugly. There’s no delicate way to put it. By Rheisa's standards, however, it is.a masterpiece. There may be a reason she operates an art gallery and not boutique.
"For this..." Bruce looks down at the coat again, and then back up to Rheisa, smiling, "I'll pay twice that." Before she can object, Bruce pulls out a couple sticks of credit and hands them to her. Glancing down at the belt, Bruce notes the small medallion with interest. Evidently pleased with the coat, the man reaches for the cup of /almost/-forgotten caff and happily takes the rest of the contents in one swoop. He sets the cup aside, but doesn't throw it away - perhaps he isn't finished with it quite yet. His hands now free, he picks up the large, floor-length garment and takes a step back from the desk, swinging it around and slipping his arms through the sleeves. He plays with the fit for a second, making sure it feels just right - and it does. Setting to work on the lower half of the fasteners, the man leaves the top half undone to keep himself from overheating too quickly. As he does so, he begins looking around the room, almost frantically. "Hey, do you have a mirror in here?"
It’s a snazzy wampa! Oh wait, just a fur-clad human. By now, Umak has grown bored with chomping on this plaything that neither squeals or bites back. The toddler meanders around the desk to bother his mother for something edible, but halts at the sight of Bruce in his new splendor. If the bulging of those eyes aren’t all the mirror he needs…
“In there,” Rheisa points to an unlabeled door in the far right, rear corner of the lobby. It sits right alongside an armored, locked door. “Is refresher.” Her palm finally closes around the two chits before squirreling them away on her person. "Is too much, but I will accept."
Bruce looks down as the little Togruta crawls around the corner of the desk, and he smiles back warmly at the boy's bulging eyes. It's... possible he is misinterpreting Umak's expression. Looking back up, his head follows the direction she points, and Bruce immediately turns towards the 'fresher. Upon entering, the investigator steps up to the mirror and examines himself. He wouldn't know fashion if it stabbed him with a vibroblade, but Bruce likes what he sees. Practical utility, and a little flare to make it unique. Perfect. And he can even turn it inside out if he needs a quick disguise. Not to mention hide a blaster or some mag-binoculars. And even besides all that, he looks as cozy as he feels in the thick fur and leather. A takes another moment to look at himself, then comes back into the foyer. "This thing is amazing," he says as he steps to the desk. Bruce picks up his cup again and begins filling it at the caff dispenser. His eyes drop to Umak and he smiles at the boy, but his attention is suddenly pulled away by the beeping of a comm, much fainter than he is used to, coming from within the furry hide he wears. It takes him a moment to find the beeping thing, and by the time he has it in hand, the beeping has stopped. He sighs and looks up at Rheisa. "I'm afraid I have to call them back. Thank you for the coat, Rheisa, it's better than I ever expected. I'll see you around, or call me if you need anything." He gives a final bow to Rheisa, than Umak, and offers the boy one last wink before he turns for the door.
As he exits the gallery, he begins fastening the top few buttons of the coat, finally able to shield himself from the ferocious winds of Nar Shaddaa.
