Open RP - Seamstressing, like with a needle

[castleinthesnow]

It had occurred to Sansa after much careful thought, that she would prefer to be killed rather than ever wear the school's uniform. True, there didn't seem to be any requirement to wear House colors or uniform, but... if there was ever a requirement, Sansa would die of shame if she had to be seen in a skirt that short

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[usethepoker]

It had been quite a while since Susan had seen Sansa, and she was rather surprised to run across the girl now. Susan herself was carrying a stack of books and a Thermos of tea, wanting to get some reading done without bothering with the library.

"Hello," she said, sticking her head in the door. "Sansa. Do you mind if I join you?"

[castleinthesnow]

And there was the company! Sansa smiled in welcome. "Oh... yes, please do come in." It was true that Susan was intimidating, and worrying on several levels with her insistence on people having brains, but it wasn't frightening intimidation, not really. "It's always pleasant to have someone to talk to."

[usethepoker]

Susan set her books down on a desk and took a seat across from Sansa. "How have you been?" she asked. Sansa might think she was intimdidating, but Susan found the pile of fabric around Sansa just as intimidating. She'd never sewn anything in her life, and couldn't imagine how anyone could take pleasure in doing so. Then again, most people couldn't take pleasure in building pudding bombs, so to each their own.

[castleinthesnow]

"Well enough." It had been quiet, at least. She had attended to her own affairs, at least those affairs not having to do with dead family members up and walking around. She'd have to eventually, of course, to some extent or other. A few more chalk marks went on the grey wool. "I'm not certain I'll ever grow tired of quiet. How are you?"

[hellminxmel]

Maia saunters into the classroom, looking for somewhere where she can practice the body-binding spell on unsuspecting beetles or whatever, and is quite surprised to see it occupied by a girl with an apparent fetish for curtains.

Too amused to start on the 'grah, me hate' routine, she raises her eyebrows. 'Hope I'm not interrupting...whatever the hell you're doing.'

[castleinthesnow]

This wasn't a familiar person, but Sansa smiled automatically and said, "Please don't worry about it." She made a few marks on the grey cloth with a bit of chalk, as if to display that she could continue working in the presence of others. "I'm making a dress."

[hellminxmel]

Maia sneers elegantly at the fabric, running a long red nail down the cloth. 'Bit sedate, isn't it? Grey and white...no, you need blue, or something.'

Her tone of voice is slightly mocking. 'And why make one? The village shops have outfits.'

[castleinthesnow]

"I can't wear blue," Sansa replied calmly. Too Tully or too Arryn, either way it was too much trouble. "This world's 'outfits' tend not to suit me, I'm afraid, and I enjoy sewing." Her tone remained calm and polite - mockery was nothing new to her, and there was nothing for it but to keep being polite and hope the mocker got bored.

[fatherofwolves]

A no-longer-headless figure loomed stiffly in the doorway.

"Daughter," said Ned, his voice at once rusty and as warm with affection as it could be.

[castleinthesnow]

It had to happen sooner or later, and Sansa thought she'd prepared herself, but nevertheless she couldn't help stiffening slightly, the old tension mostly closing off her expression. She turned anyway and curtsied - father or not, dead or not, there were courtesies to observe. "My lord."

[fatherofwolves]

Ned saw that stiffening, and could not help but be saddened by it.

"There was a time," he said heavily, "when you called me Father."

[castleinthesnow]

"You are still my lord father," she said carefully, "but...." She was no longer really a Stark, if she'd ever been. More than that, she'd seen his head tarred and spiked, Joffrey had made her look. She'd been able to make herself not really see, and that hadn't pleased him, but all the same it wasn't exactly forgettable.

Of course, Joff was as dead as her father, and only one of them faced her now. She dropped her eyes to the ground in note-perfect penitence. "I beg your forgiveness."