Not Really Here For Mariah

Title: Not Really Here For Mariah
Time Period: May 28th, 135 A.E.
Characters Appearing:

Summary: Cas comes a snooping, under the pretense of looking for Mariah though both know that's not true.

It's been nice having someone in the shop. Someone besides customers. A few people have turned their nose up at who they've heard and seen that is now working in Pins & Needles with Sorcha, but good riddance to them she says. Everyone deserves a good life, and a good job. Even former whores.

To that effect, she sent Mariah down to the docks to see if any boats were seen coming in, since the cast - due to come off any time now - slowed her down in walking. That and it got Mariah a break and some fresh air before they'd be having dinner with some guests.

In the corner is a cage, two angora rabbits wriggling noses and wispy'd ears, ready to go home with it's new owners tonight. Sorcha's settled at the counter on a stool with her leg up on a chair, working on some embroidery on the hem of a knee length skirt that was ordered. The door open to let fresh air circulate through the racks of fabric. Canaries jump and chitter in their massive cage out of sight.

Being in a cast, the store's propiertor would probably appreciate the young man crossing the open threshold with a walking stick. One he seems to need, by the way he limps into the room, holding onto the stick to keep most of the weight off his injured leg. Cas may not need it as much as someone with a broken leg would, but he certainly is favoring it anyway.

"This is the seamstress place, right?" he states the possible obvious as he waves his free hand around at the racks of fabric. The young man is dressed somewhat nicely. Or at least he seems to have slipped into his nicest shirt, one with a interesting paisley print in red and gold design. And a scarf that isn't needed for the weather, worn almost like a tie under the collar of the button-up. Only it's a deeper red, nearly purple. And the sleeves of it weren't fitted well for him, far too long and hanging over his hands. His trousers aren't really of the same quality, obviously worn, but unexpertly mended in places.

"This is the butchers. The seamstress shop is two blocks over" Bold faced, serious. Sorcha matches eye for eye, Cas's own with an expectant look.

For a moment, the man blinks, as if he's not sure how to take her statement. But then he laughs. "Doesn't look like a butchers shop to me," Cas says with a grin, limping over to the two angora rabbits and waving his fingers at them a little as if he's tempted to pet them. "It'd be a shame for these guys to end up as someone's dinner."

It's an honest statement, but one with a grin that dimples his cheeks. "I'm looking for Mariah, actually? I've just… never been in here before, and…" he trails off, nervously.

"Cas?" Inquisitive. She's seen this man before, and the leg combined with asking after Mariah. "She's out seeing if my Husbands come in the boat yet. She should be back in about twenty minutes. "I'm Sorcha" The embroidery put down, she's leaning over a bit to offer her hand out to him. "And those are far too precious to be put in stew. Their fur is used to make soft yarn. They're going to a farming family tonight"

"Uh— yeah, Cas Blackburn," he says in response, limping over to her and looking at his hand as if making sure it's clean before he takes hers in greeting. "It's nice to meet you, Sorcha— Mariah told me you were helping her out and that you.. you know… gave her a job when she thought no one ever would and…" he trails off.

He was rambling for a moment. "Rabbits can make yarn?" he adds in a question, pointing back at the bunnies with the wispy ears.

"That they can. Only those ones though, best that I know. And not much at a time. Not with just the two of them. But they'll have babies and eventually, lots more yarn. Like Llama's. I have some Llama's and they make nice yarn too. So soft, like a cloud really. Take a seat, I got some tea in the back that I can bring out. If you're thirsty. Or, there's a shelf there, with some pants, you can dig them out and see if any fit you. Replace the ones you're wearing."

The shelf gets a glance and he limps that way instead of toward the chair, perhaps considering. "I don't need anything to drink right now, thank you," Cas responds quietly in his british-y accent as he rummages through the first stack, looking at the fabric more than anything else.

"How's Mariah doing here?" he asks, tilting his eyes toward the woman, a hesitance in his voice. "Are people treating her… okay?"

"I lost a few customers. Likely find someone else for their mendings. But other than that, they've been good to her. Not yet seen anyone come in and try anything. If they did, I'm pretty sure they'd find themselves in a mess of trouble, not to mention they'd be out of my shop and looking for clothes elsewhere faster than they could blink"

With no tea required, she's picking up her embroidery again, gesturing to a fabric folding screen, used to change behind. "Try em on. First pairs on me. consider it a thank you for the troll"

For a moment Cas opens his mouth and looks at her, until he suddenly closes his mouth and grins, "I thought I saw you somewhere before. I— all I did was throw an apple at him. And run. And get a building knocked on top of me." But he doesn't seem to argue as he chooses one from the pile with a sturdy dark fabric and carries it over to the folding screen.

"I'm glad she's doing okay— she… she deserves it. To be able to do something that…" He trails off, perhaps searching for words. Or distracted by trying to get his trousers off.

"Isn't on her back? I hate to tell you Cas, She's on her back here. But for entirely different reasons. Though… I made more when she was on her back. Always coming in for a new dress. I just realized that perhaps I have completely killed half my business" It's another joke, idle musing. She looks over towards the panels with raised brows. "Do you need help? Can you manage on your own?"

"What— what do you mean she's on her back here?" Cas asks quietly, perhaps not understanding what she means, as he finally puts his old trousers over the top of the folding screen to show he's managed to get them off, and perhaps to indicate he doesn't need

"Picking up pins, helping pin hems on dresses, and let me tell you, that means sometimes, we are on our backs with our hands up ladies skirts. Then, then there's fitting trousers for those who don't quite fit the standard sizes. Don't worry Cas, things are very proper here. I promise. She doesn't do a single thing she doesn't want to do. Soon enough, she'll be able to make pants for you.

There's a relieved sound from Cas as he hears the explaination, even a small laugh from behind the screen. "I work with a lot messier stuff then pins and ladies skirts," he admits with smile in his voice. "I don't expect her to make me anything, but… I'm sure she will anyway. Though I'd be happy with a scarf, or… something."

"Oh, She'll make you stuff. Scarves too. I'm sure of it. She likes you well enough" Her needle moves in and out of the fabric, working away on a curling vine pattern that she knows by heart and hasn't had to lay out on the fabric ahead of time.

"Did you really come to see Mariah ro did you come to make sure that her boss and her friend is doing right by her?"

After a long pause, Cas steps out from behind the screen, having just done up the trousers he was trying on. They fit well enough, a little loose, but comfortably so. The legs could use hemming as they bunch up at his work boots, too, but only a little.

"I— I didn't really come to see her, no," he says, but he hesiattes a long moment before he suddenly blurts out, "Do you make any hats here?"

"Yes and no. Depends on what you want. I have some pictures of ones that I can make, and some felted hats too" Down goes the embroidery, Sorcha pointing to his boots. "Off with them. I'll mark the legs so that when Mariah gets back, she can hem them for you, and bring them to you" TO be no excuses, she's dropping her foot and making her way to the center of the workroom behind the counter she was at, making for her wrist holder with the pins.

"She'll be fine here Cas. She'll be good here. I didn't realize how much I needed someone here, until she took me up on the offer. This way, when Patrick makes it home, I can leave the shop for a few days and not need to worry about whether I'll be eating or drinking the next week. And she has a respectable job, and someone who won't try to take advantage of her. She's my friend. And it's admirable that you came here, to make sure of that"

"I— " Cas says in a slightly pained voice as he limps over to get marked for hemming. The boots slip off easily, as he'd just likely put them back to see how it fit with his boots on. They're nice and mostly mudless, and his socks have obvious patches over the toes.

"I just thought she may have made the decision for… a little fast." Instead of saying more, though, he lifts his hands up and makes a gesture to show headsize. "I just want a little cap. Something colorful and cute, maybe those knit caps with the little… flaps that go over the ears? It's for a— for a small head. About this big."

"I'd asked her a while back Cas. It wasn't fast. And if at any time she wants to go back, or to do something else, like settle down with a handsome man who has holes in his socks, then I am not going to complain. Just maybe if she sets up a competing shop" Dornie only is so big. But there's a request for a knit cap and Sorcha nods to that while tucking in pant legs to get the proper amount of length in them. "Color?"
[OOC] Sorcha says, "kid, brb"

"I— " Cas starts, then falters, and looks away. There's obvious fidgetting, and all of it seems to happen immediately after she mentions Mariah settling down, and gets worse as he looks down at his socks.

Luckily the cap is a topic. "I was thinking— uh— red and yellow, kind of like my shirt. I brought trade for that, though. Just— what I get down at the stables, but I figured you can probably trade it in for…" he trails off. What would she go to the stables for.

"I… can also catch fish or find apples to trade for it."

One of those men. That or just very early in a relationship. "We'll figure something out. I usually trade repairs for drinks, but we'll think of something. Fish is good, apples as well. I'll have something made for you before the week is out then. Might not match the shades exact but I think that I have some of both. If not, I know where to get some" She'll give him a pass, not grill him too long. "You can come over anytime. If you feel the need to look in on her, make sure for yourself. especially if I'm not here"

"Oh, drinks, huh?" Cas speaks up, looking relieved when he's not pressed on the source of his obvious fidgetting. "I'll see what I can gather up in my free time— what kind of drinks do you prefer?" Cause he knows the bars will take his stamped leather slips. They always can use them at the stables.

"And thanks— I'll visit when I can. I'm sure she'd like it too," he adds, limping back over to the screen so he can change back into his other trousers. Though he'll have to limp back out for his boots, too.

'I drink nearly anything and everything Cas. I like my drinks" Sorcha may have a bit of a drinking issue. When your husbands away, you have to do something. "There anything else you need? New socks? A pair of rabbits for yourself? They all just had babies, so I got plenty to give"

"If I had someplace to put them, I'd think about it," Cas admits quietly from behind the screen. "But I don't think they'd like sleeping in a barn with horses. They might get stepped on…" It's said in whispered tones, before he steps out, this time with his walking stick, and the trousers already folded and handed over. To be hemmed by Mariah. "I could always use socks, though, but— I'll be stopping by more often and can always get talked into socks next time," he says with a smile, as he slips his feet back into his boots, so that he can make his way back out to the road.

"I'll let Mariah do the talking" Pants are taken, draped carefully over the end of a table. "You take care Cas, see you around" Back to her seat, to the counter and her embroidery she wants to get done before Mariah gets back, before dinner. "ANd take care of her" Though that's not so audible to the retreating horse keeper.