Finished Wow…you sew? PV

“Ow…”

The sound of a young girl's voice echo'd through the corridor just as the vibrations of the crash echoed along the cardboard and into her hands. "Are you okay?" Maisie asked as she peered from around the large box she'd brought from the owlery. She didn't really run into people, but it was hard to see around and if she was at fault, she wanted to ensure the other person was all right.

Placing the box on the ground, she blinked as she heard her name. The girl before her looked mildly familiar but was hard to place. But she seemed to recognize her easily. "Em," she cleared her throat. It too a few seconds but she eventually recognized the girl from the potions shop way at the start of term, but she couldn't recall her name. In fact, she wasn't sure she'd dropped it.

"Sorry about that," she said, "and thanks for getting that. Could have rolled all the way down the corridor." She gestured gently to the thread in the girl's hand. "You can just put it on top there." She angled the box accordingly to help get her things back in the proper place. It wasn't a big deal at all and she was excited to see what she could create with everything that had recently arrived.

@Ruth Fairchild

𝕽uth had predicted for a migrane to come, but it hadn't been so bad, now that Ruth realised who was really standing in front of her. Maisie, the girl from "Potage's Cauldron Shop". Ruth couldn't remember if the two of them, and another, had introduced themselves to each other, but Ruth recalled her from the sorting ceremony as she watched with her own two eyes, Maisie walking up and putting the head on her head.

"...No problem. Not even a bruise, so I should be fine!" Ruth said, feigning enthusiasm as she placed the thread she had picked up back into the box Maisie had been carrying. Ruth watched the girl, unsure if the witch recognised her. It would make sense, seeing as though it was a rather fleeting moment. Why had Ruth joined them anyways?

Nevermind. Forgetting what she had been doing there in the first place, Ruth grabbed the other end of the box. "Would you like some help? The box seems rather bulky." Perhaps she could use this as an excuse to get to know Maisie better. If Maisie did reject her offer though, perhaps going to the hospital wing to see if anything got too badly injured didn't seem like a bad idea. Its good to be careful in an unfamiliar environment.

Interacting with @Maisie Gemmell

"Oh, good," she said, glad the girl was fine. She really wasn't expecting anything else; the collision was minor if anything. With a nod, she acknowledge the girl's return of her thread. Seemed like everything was back in order, exactly as it had been before. Maybe the contents had shifted slightly, but that didn't bother her—it'll all be be exiting the box soon enough and begin a new life as a scarf or a pair of socks.

"Would you like some help? The box seems rather bulky."

She looked down at the box. It was a bit large, come to think of it, even if she had been managing well enough on her own. "Sure, thanks. Do you want to take that side?" With a nod of the head, she gestured to one side. She didn't expect this girl to take the box with her all the way to her common room, but even a short stretch along the corridors might be helpful.

"When's your next class?" she asked, wanting to be respectful of the girl's time. After all, carrying this thing around the bend of the corridors would be slower certainly than just walking normally. She didn't want to cost this good samaritan any more time than she'd bargained for. And even if there was no class, maybe there was an activity or essay that cried out for attention. We all had commitments like that.

@Ruth Fairchild

𝕽uth hummed, then grinned at the girl "Not until much later. Don't worry about it, I can help you to as far as you'd like...or as far as I can go," Plenty of time to get to know the girl that's for sure.

Together they walked through the corridor with silence that Ruth couldn't deem awkward or comfortable. She spoke up anyways, curious. "So...you sew? What kind of things do you sew? How long have you done it for? Is it hard? Does the needle hurt you sometimes? What's your favourite stitching pattern?" Once she started, it was hard to stop.

Ruth did though, her words dying in her mouth when she realised what she had just done. Blushing she looked down at the ground, watching her legs move. "Sorry, I get carried away sometimes. And it's just that..." she sighed, "I've never sewed before, so it's all new to me. I usually get my clothes fixed at a tailor shop and never got to watch my parents or siblings do the handiwork. Hell, I'm not even sure if we have a sewing kit at home!" she chuckled at that, finding the irony funny. After all, Ruth was the observant one, the one who watched and knew where everything and anything was. Yet, when it came to the kit, she couldn't recall seeing it around, ever.

@Maisie Gemmell

"That's good, thanks. I don't have Charms for another hour or so," she said as the other girl explained that she didn't have a class coming up. That was lucky. An extra pair of hands would be useful here or for as far as they could go.

But good was perhaps only true for a matter of seconds as very quickly therein began an onslaught of questions she had no way of anticipating, or frankly, answering. "Em," she let out, unsure where to begin. And before she even could came the apology.

"It's okay," she reassured her helper. Maybe she was just excited. The weight of the box seemed to grow heavier with the pressure of the questions. "I take it you don't?" she questioned somewhat rhetorically, before explaining, "My mum is a dressmaker. We sew together." A little smile crossed her face, reflecting on times at home. Sometimes this school seemed so overwhelming that the comforts of home and its simplicity were as alluring as a dream.

But after a few seconds, she snapped back to the present moment as they trotted down the corridor. "It's really not a big deal. Useful and fun, but just a hobby," she said. Somehow this felt different to when Reyna had asked her about her sewing. That had had a purpose, a goal: the greatest dress. These questions felt more probing. Despite this, she didn't feel the girl had any ill intent; it was just a bit awkward. "What do you do for fun?" she asked, trying to shift the focus away from herself.

@Ruth Fairchild

𝕽uth watched Maisie smile at the thought of her mum from the corner of her eye as they traipsed further away towards the stairs, then watched it slip off her face as she regarded Ruth’s prior questions carefully. “It’s really not a big deal. Useful and fun, but just a hobby,” She didn’t continue, turning the conversation to Ruth instead. The Hufflepuff witch frowned at that, then was embarrassed. She was awful for minding someone’s business. How could she have been so probing? It seemed as though Maisie had little interest in sharing her knowledge on sewing because of that. Had Ruth not been so excited and over shared, she might have gotten a little more than that.

Trying to push away the frustration, Ruth shrugged. Best remain nonchalant and not speak so much. Ruth had ruined it enough already. “I read.”She paused, then decided to add a little more. “And walk. On the grounds.” But it was a little too cold for that now. Maybe during the holidays.

Afterwards, Ruth remained silent. There was a nagging thought in her head, but she couldn’t place what. It felt like she had forgotten something. Or maybe that was the hallow feeling she felt from her pique interest in sewing crashing down. Well, it’s not like Maisie’s the only one who can sew. That was right. She might as well go take a lookie in the library and learn on her own. How hard could it possibly be? Maybe she should excuse herself now, before it got too awkward, and head there now.

It still felt like she was forgetting something. What had she been doing in the corridor anyway? Ruth wracked her brain as they neared the steps to ascend up to the Ravenclaw tower. Mmm…work. Something about work.Ruth gasped. Transfiguration! Ruth had to hurry, or else she would really miss her professor. Ruth winced at the thought and looked down at the bundle she was helping Maisie carry. She’s bound to think I’m too inconsiderate at this point.

She waited until they reached the end of the corridor then turned to Maisie apologetically. “I’m sorry, Maisie. I just remembered I have somewhere to be in a short span of time. It slipped my mind when I saw the sew materials.” she gestured at them, then flushed at her clumsiness. Waving, she darted away after a quick goodbye, hoping she wouldn’t ever have to encounter Maisie awkwardly ever again.

Even better if she forgot who she was.

Interacting with @Maisie Gemmell

The box seemed to grow heavier with every pause—because there were more pauses than words. It seemed a sharp contrast to the way only seconds ago the questions had seemed absolutely unending. Maisie looked over at the Hufflepuff, a little surprised.

Then came the answers of what she liked to do and the answers were as staccato as a violin. Maisie, who tended to be more extraverted, at first focused in on the content rather than the delivery. At least being short, it was easy to understand and felt more like an equal exchange of interests. "I love a good read too. What are you reading now?" she queried, hoping it wouldn't be a textbook because that student definitely did exist. In fact, that student was probably curled up in the Ravenclaw common room somewhere.

That, rather than time on the grounds as the girl suggested. A superior suggestion in Maisie's humble opinion. Except the way she spoke, the other girl cut across her syntax awkwardly, almost like she needed to qualify that she liked walks. Maisie raised a brow. Something seemed off. Despite this, she continued down the corridor with the girl's help until—

“I’m sorry, Maisie."

And as she rebalanced the box in her grasp, she felt the realization form in the back of her head: she didn't even know the girl's name. But she knew hers, and that made it worse. "No problem. I appreciate your help, but I don't want to keep you..." she trailed off, searching for the girl's name, but it did not come and her companion did not supply it. And in a manner of seconds the dark-haired girl waved goodbye just as quickly as she had crashed into her.

And so echo'd the words in her wake: "Wait, what was your name?"

This post completes this thread.
@Ruth Fairchild