sixthiterationlogs | OTA Mingle || Stitch & Bitch

Entry tags:

OTA Mingle || Stitch & Bitch

WHO: Anne
WHERE: House 53
WHEN: Forward dated to Saturday
OPEN TO: OTA - but specifically those who expressed an interest in joining Stich & Bitch
WARNINGS: Stitching & Bitching. Should be a fairly tame log but will update as needed

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The first thing Anne had done was make a mental list (since she couldn't make an electronic one - or even a pen and paper one) of the kind of space she was looking for. Open floorplan, fireplace, multiple rooms, yardage. Eventually, she'd settled on House 53 - a soft yellow bungalow with three bedrooms, a fireplace, spaced farther from its neighbors than some of the other housing units, and with a sizeble plot of land behind it before it butted up against the houses in the next street over. Check.

Second, she would need chairs. She borrowed whatever furniture she could move from the surrounding empty houses, marking the underneath of each one in order to return them to their proper houses afterwards - if that was necessary.

Chairs arranged in a loose circle in the house, she went out to borrow a hatchet and go out to collect some firewood - this took the most amount of time, because she wasn't exactly built for this kind of labor. She's been working at it over a few days, though, and she knew that necessity would mold her far better than any CrossFit or Krav Maga class ever could. She spent enough time on this endeavor to ensure there'd be enough wood to last them a bit, then returned the hatchet. She'd have to ask Tony for one of her own at some point.

It doesn't matter if you're the first one here, or if things have been under way for a couple hours and you're just rolling in; Anne greets everyone as they arrive, already near the door or getting up from her chair to offer a warm handshake and introductions.

Today's inaugural session was meant to be a little more free-form, and let it grow from that organically, but at some point when a number of people have gathered Anne will stand to get their attention;

"I wanted to thank you all for coming. Unless I've somehow missed you, you know I am Anne Weying; I can teach knitting, and I would like to learn how to spin.

I know we're all from different worlds with different levels of technological advancements, but here we're all on the same footing. And that footing's about to get cold if we can't knit a sock, first. This idea was born from a practice in my world called "Stitch and Bitch", where people would gather to knit, and crochet, and generally complain about things in their lives. Here, I think it would be important if we used this time to share our skills and help each other establish a line of production in order to harvest and spin fleece and knit it into usable goods - or weave, or crochet, what-have-you.

We're definitely not in a tropical climate, and without knowing just how cold it can get here, I think it's best if we start preparing for a cold winter now."

She sits down and takes a look at each of those gathered around, "So; what can you teach, and what would you like to learn?"

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It took a bit of effort to get Steph’s heavy foot-powered seweing machine to the house, but between her and Jason they managed it. The next trip was to retrieve scraps of fabric from earlier tailoring projects and what curtains and blankets she felt the village could do without. Those she kept in bundles with a blanket wrapped around each, since cardboard boxes were clearly not a thing here. Hopefully there would be more gifts of clothes later that she could use for big projects... and more lightweight boxes to cart supplies around in.

She had already set about carefully pulling what threads she could from their seams when Anne started talking.

"I’d like to learn spinning, since sewing is what I’m good at," she volunteered. There was only so much a person could salvage, and the fabric to thread ratio of blanket was definitely not ideal. "Did anyone think to grab books from the school? They have something on just about everything, it seems like."

So far there had been more talk about learning crafting skills than teaching them. The party might have to wait until some of them had made a library run. Steph couldn't really complain about that, since she hadn't thought to bring any either.

Edited 2018-12-10 04:50 (UTC)

"I brought a couple. Pretty sure there are more, but they aren't all organized on the shelves, at least they aren't anymore," Billy volunteers, holding up a book with a cozy-looking argyle sweater on the front, part of the stack on his chair. He'd gravitated towards the sewing machine almost immediately, something comfortable and familiar.

"I'd been wondering if there were any sewing machines in the village," he follows up, looking the machine over before offering Steph a tentative grin. "I can knit, but I like sewing more, honestly."

"Oh good. I learned how to knit at some point in my life but I've definitely forgotten." She returns his smile with an amiable one of her own. It's gotten easier lately, to let herself make friends without worrying about ruining someone's life.

"Tony made it for me, after some negotiation. Which came after some teasing. Which came after his initial agreement to try it 'just because'." She shrugs, utterly shameless.

Honestly, that might be something they have in common. Billy's never let it stop him from trying to make friends, but he's definitely worried about that being a not-great thing for the other person. For not entirely dissimilar reasons. "It's definitely like riding a bike," he offers. "Or, you know, like they say riding a bike is supposed to be, which I definitely disagree with, learning how to balance on two wheels again after ten years is not as easy, especially if you're like three feet taller than you were the last time you tried."

But that's a ramble, isn't it? He's gotta get better about that. "Tony Stark made your sewing machine?" Now that's something to be interested in. "That's awesome. I knew he was running the forge, but I still haven't actually talked to him. To this him. I don't know this version, is he cool?"

Steph chuckles at the simile and shrugs. She remembers how to hold the needles, but after that she's a little lost.

"Yeah, I got the request in early when he was asking for them. I don't know if he's cool, but he doesn't totally suck." She's even kind of fond of him, hence the relentless teasing. But that doesn't necessarily mean anyone else will like him. She enjoys people who bite back.

"Well, that's definitely more he's got going for him than the Iron Man I know back home. That guy was always super uncool, especially to me and my friends." Although admittedly, the only time they ever spoke was when Billy and his friends were breaking curfew, going out and fighting crime, sooooo...

"Is there fabric and stuff in the village to work with? Besides like, the scrubs and stuff, I mean," he asks, looking back at the sewing machine. "It'd be cool if we could work on making up some new things for people to wear, instead of just those and whatever else is kicking around in the lost and found."

She snorts a laugh. She can definitely see Tony being uncool to a bunch of teenagers. Luckily nobody’s tried that crap with her yet. She sure as hell doesn’t need a new dad. One was more than enough for one lifetime, thanks.

“Not really,” she sighs. She waves at the pile of ‘scrap’ fabric.

“I’m just using what I can. And making some changes so the scrubs aren’t so terrible. Normal human belt loops, for example, instead of the stupid drawstring deal the scrubs have going on.”

Yeah, Billy's definitely not looking for replacement parents. He's already got more sets than some do back home, and honestly, he really doesn't need anything like that here. He's eighteen, not eight, even if he doesn't really know a ton about wilderness survival or frontier living or whatever.

"I mean, I'm not really anti-drawstring, but you're right, some changes wouldn't be awful. Is it me, or do scrubs just look super unflattering on anyone, no matter what they look like? All those TV hospital dramas were totally a lie." Not that appearances matter a ton here, but still.

"No, they're awful," Steph agrees with false cheer.

"I don't know how you can stand them, they dig into my sides so weird and it takes like, 5 minutes to get them tied."

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I would be all about some elastic, but drawstring isn't terrible. I mean, if it's between that and my pants falling off..." He shrugs, offering a grin. "At least there's some options in the spare supplies, right? And I heard that sometimes the guys who brought us here will send in other things, so there's always hope one of them will grow a sense of fashion. Or comfort. You know. And until then, maybe we can figure something out. These houses are full of sheets and stuff, right?" It's worth a look, maybe they can figure out some patterns, if they can get some thread spun.

"Thankfully. I was wearing the overalls, but now I've got two whole pairs of jeans." If the observers have a sense of fashion they don't intend to share it with newcomers. You've got to earn your pants, or something.

"Finding good fabric for clothes is the really hard part. It's either too thin or too stiff."

"And of course, nothing's knit," he agrees. "I don't even wanna think about what starts to happen when the underwear they gave us starts to wear out." Please don't make him start going commando, Observers. This place is enough of a struggle already. "I guess at least they've given us something. And maybe fabric is something we can figure out. They wouldn't have left sewing machines in the houses if there wasn't a plan for us to use them, right? If Mr. Stark can do all this other stuff, maybe he can work on a loom."

"A loom should be easy," she notes, leaning forward on the machine's desk surface. "I've never used one before, but it's just a lot of wood and string, right? And spinning is already on the docket, so that shouldn't be too big a problem."

Anne would help Stephanie and Jason get the sewing machine settled; the fiber artist's version of a LAN party. It's exciting to see things come together, and she donates some of her curtains to the cause.

Besides, you could never have too much natural light.

"Do you have everything you need?"

"If you've found any scissors, that'd be a big help. I've been using knives, with varying success." She managed to cut the pieces with enough leeway, but that probably used more fabric than it needed to and wasted some due to cuts that were too long.

"But otherwise yeah, it's all pretty self-contained. Thanks for the help."

"I haven't seen any yet, but I'll ask Tony if that's something he can come up with. They would definitely come in handy."

It's the little things you take for granted.

"Don't mention it. I'm happy with the turnout. So many people willing to share, to help each other out. I think we'll make it through alright."

"It shouldn't be hard, just screw two knives together," she points out with a shrug. She'd be surprised if it wasn't one of the first tools he ended up making. But then, she had a certain perspective on technology that Tony might not share.

"What, were you worried about surviving the winter? People here are actually pretty nice. I mean, they've been feeding me for free for like, five months now."

"Are you familiar with the concept of 'Stockholm Syndrome'?" It's an honest question; there were a lot of worlds represented, she's discovering, and this may not be a phrase that's been born on another reality.

"While I appreciate the hospitality, I have a hard time not being wary of it since I don't know where it's coming from, and I didn't elect to be here."

"Sure," Steph answers with a shrug.

"But does that really apply to the one guy and his helpers making stew every day? They're not exactly keeping me prisoner."

Anne sights, "Alright, point taken. I mean, I'm going to take the food and I'm going to be gracious but that doesn't mean I can't have a healthy level of distrust of the situation."

"The situation, sure," Steph concedes easily. She picks up a blanket and starts to pull the threads out, using her knife to get it started.

"I mean, I don't know about you but I'm supposed to be dead. This whole deal is majorly suspicious from the get-go."

"N-no, I was alive and breathing last I remembered, you were dead?" This is not an aspect of their current environment that she'd been privy to until now. "I guess that would definitely give an entirely different perspective on the circumstances. I'm so sorry, Stephanie."

Steph shrugs. She never really knows how to respond when people tell her they’re sorry she’s dead. She’s not really sure how sorry she is. She’d thought once about what the next years of her life would have been like if she had survived, and the thought of so much bedrest, healing and physical therapy made her shudder.

“Mostly it means I find it hard to really care about a lot of this stuff.” She keeps picking at the threads, hoping Anne doesn’t think she means the sewing. She can care about sewing for its own sake.

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OTA Mingle || Stitch & Bitch

Stephanie Brown | OTA

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oh no this tag almost got lost!

D:

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