[Mom has come in to the tailor's to see if she can get a few things from her wardrobe altered to be just a tad less 'June Cleaver.' She's relieved to see that the place isn't entirely populated by drones. And the flash step sewing is just entertaining to watch.]
[Don't mind a very obviously non-drone fellow tailor looking at you curiously, Bro. How can you tell he's not a drone? Because most drones don't come with giant butterfly wings attached to their back. Seriously, you'd think he was god tier or something.
Silence has been a tailor for so long that there was at least one stretch of time where he was the only non-drone tailor in Mayfield...which may be why there's an odd predominance of clothing that looks like it was designed for eighteenth century nobility lying around the shop. More recently he's actually had company in the form of other non-drones working in the shop...although the lack of a voice has made socializing with any of them rather difficult.
This person, however, is intriguing enough to be worth making an effort.
So he approaches Bro, usual notepad in hand, and lightly taps his shoulder to get his attention.]
[ Ohh, company, that's always a plus. He'd be lying if he said he expected any, but who gives two fucks about expectations anymore anyway. Bro turns to attention and gives the wings a bit of a look from behind his shades. ]
[Silence smiles a bit in greeting, then holds out his notebook. It's flipped open to its first page, which he long ago wrote a basic introduction on and has left in the notebook to be conveniently reused as necessary.
Don't mind the slightly elegant script, Bro, he writes big so as to make it more legible.]
I AM SILENCE. I AM MUTE AND CANNOT SPEAK. IT IS A PLEASURE TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE.
Comments 54
Busy day, Mr. Strider?
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[She's sick of hearing 'now why would you want to ruin such pretty clothes, Sugar?']
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Lose a button or what.
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But alas, she does not so instead she's patiently standing and studying.]
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What's up.
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Silence has been a tailor for so long that there was at least one stretch of time where he was the only non-drone tailor in Mayfield...which may be why there's an odd predominance of clothing that looks like it was designed for eighteenth century nobility lying around the shop. More recently he's actually had company in the form of other non-drones working in the shop...although the lack of a voice has made socializing with any of them rather difficult.
This person, however, is intriguing enough to be worth making an effort.
So he approaches Bro, usual notepad in hand, and lightly taps his shoulder to get his attention.]
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Sup.
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Don't mind the slightly elegant script, Bro, he writes big so as to make it more legible.]
I AM SILENCE. I AM MUTE AND CANNOT SPEAK. IT IS A PLEASURE TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE.
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Right, likewise. Pretty straightforward name you got there, though.
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