ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY: Needle & Wheedle

180

******

 

The man’s name was Tuck, the woman’s was Yinuo, and their coffee was the same color as the leather chair Alden sat in while they all had a casual conversation about recent events. The new Span, real estate, luxury tax rates—it was all over his head and very far outside his day-to-day worries . But the chatter of the three older Rabbits served to break up a long string of questions about him so that talking felt more natural than having one fell swoop of a personal interview would have.

How much time did he expect to spend on the Triplanets? No need to be specific, but was he planning one social trip or several? What were his priorities when it came to his appearance?

And by the way, what did he usually wear in America? On Anesidora? What about at LeafSong? Did he like what the school had given him in his human care package? Why? Why not? Did he think he had a style? Did he want one?

“All right,” said Tuck as he poured the last of the coffee into Alden’s cup. The cufflinks on the shirt he wore under the striped jacket were small gold compasses. “Even though you’re not a cultural novice, you are a beginner when it comes to presenting yourself through your wardrobe. You’re hoping to work on that so that you don’t feel inappropriate and unprepared around Artonans, and you like for your clothes to be functional.”

He waited.

“Yes,” said Alden. “That sounds about right.”

“That’s a good thing,” said Yinuo. They were all in Needle & Wheedle’s seating area, and she was beside Gus on the sofa. The window behind them was still curtained, and no sound at all came in from the street. “When you decide to play around with fashion…and you might want to sometime. Anesidora is probably the best place on Earth for having fun with how you dress. If you ever want to do that, we can help. But today you’re buying clothes for the Triplanets, and those clothes won’t be toys.”

Tuck nodded. “When people come to us for help with their off-Earth wardrobe, they’re usually coming to us because they need tools. Even though you’re looking for something to wear for personal matters right now, it sounds like it would be ideal if you could also wear it on summonings. Just in case. We wouldn’t give a surgeon a bat or a cricket player a scalpel.

“Showing up to a summons with an outfit that says the wrong thing can turn an event you would have enjoyed into a struggle. And none of us want to deal with that.”

“If I get summoned, I want my clothes to blend in and say nothing,” Alden said. “Just…neutral. Making no waves.”

<<That’s too advanced for you,>> said Gus, setting his own cup in its saucer. “Only a master can make his clothes unreadable.”

“He’s right,” Yinuo agreed, smiling at Alden’s expression. “Just think of how hard it would be to make a random group of humans think nothing about your appearance. And that’s when you have a lifetime of experience backing you up. On the Artonas, as an alien, you will draw half of all eyes. Those eyes will guess things about you whether you want them to or not.”

“We can help you present the image you want,” said Tuck. “But we do it by making sure the clothes say the right thing, not nothing. It’s actually easier with the Artonans in some ways. Humans pay attention to symbols when we notice them, but when it comes to clothes, Artonans are always looking for meaning. Most of them do it with humans, too. So if you give them a message they recognize to work with, it will be received.”

He walked over to a long set of shelves where lines of top hats and stacks of folded scarves were interrupted by more unusual accessories, and he put the coffee pot into a small cabinet. “With that said, let’s get down to it. You have a trip planned that you want clothes for. Who do you need to deal with on this trip? And what do you want them to think of you?”

Alden thought about it. Priority was the healer. So that first. And he wanted to look appropriate when he was hanging out at the art’h house.

“We can put you in something more generic if you prefer not to say what your personal business is,” Yinuo told him. “But just so you know, we dress people for everything. If you want Artonans to give you more tips, if you want them to fire you without suspecting that being fired was your goal, if you’re trying to look good for a wizard you like, or if your aim is to steal a job out from under another Rabbit’s nose—it’s all the same to us. Nobody’s ever asked us to make an outfit for a murder, but I know the perfect fabric for that.”

“I won’t be murdering anyone I hope,” Alden said. “But that’s good to know.”

“The Rabbit man is always prepared,” Gus murmured. “For everything.”

Alden glanced over at him. He was enjoying one of the fabric swatch books while he joked about the murder.

“A friend has gone out of his way to get me an appointment with a healer,” Alden said. “I want to hit the right level of formality and show I’m grateful for the opportunity. I might also be meeting members of my friend’s family for the first time. They’re fairly important people. Um…I’ll be wearing a commendation with this outfit. I was just going to use one of these instant embroidery packs I received recently, but if you’re making the clothes from scratch…?”

“We can handle the embroidery,” said Tuck. “Given who the commendation is from, though, on significant occasions you should probably plan in advance and have it done on the Triplanets. Or by your own hand if you can achieve good quality that way. Asking who did the stitching is a custom that can pop up from time to time.”

“You already know about the commendation and who it’s from.” There was a groan in Alden’s voice.

“Gossipy clients,” said Yinuo. “But even if they weren’t gossips…everyone has seen you flying around on the General’s disc. You were on the news!”

“With a stained shirt,” said Tuck. He was holding a hand to his chest as if the thought gave him heartburn.

 

******

 

“We’re going to ask you so many questions,” Yinuo said, “and answering them will be fun! But first, the less fun one—your budget.”

Alden was relieved. He’d been concerned that this kind of shopping experience came with no discussion of prices until the bill was presented on a golden tray. And the conversation so far hadn’t had many openings that invited him to say, “So what are you guys charging me?”

He’d already used his interface to look up the cost of bespoke tailoring in the regular world and then tried to imagine how that translated. Needle & Wheedle had no website. Tuck and Yinuo were both Rabbits. They both made clothes for wizards who were in a hurry, usually working together since they’d developed a business relationship solid enough for both of them to agree on complementary talent selection.

Their magic would no doubt make the creation of custom clothes faster. Alden doubted it would make it cheaper.

“The consultation for people who were recommended by existing customers is free,” Yinuo added. “We’re confident a busy young Rabbit will need us eventually, so don’t feel like you can’t leave today without buying something. Or like you have to spend a great deal of money. I can help you pick one nice accessory before you go, or you can have a whole wardrobe. It’s all fine with us.”

Alden looked at Gus. “How much would you spend on an outfit for the Triplanets?”

“Clothes are one of my hobbies,” he answered with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to make them one of yours. But you’re obviously concerned with making the right impression, and you seem to be finding yourself in ‘fairly important’ circles. Unless you have expensive tastes in materials, the cost of anything you have made by these two will mostly be the fee to pay for their knowledge, their spells, and their skills.”

“If a client’s budget is on the small side,” Tuck said, “we spend less time with them, and we use our powers more lightly. Maybe they only get to see a couple of outfit options on themselves before finalizing.”

Hearing that was actually helpful. I’m buying expertise, magic, and time from two Avowed who do get summoned regularly. So if I want to work with them, I don’t pay like I’m shopping, I decide if it’s worth it to pay like I’m summoning.

He’d never done anything like this. But he did want really nice clothes for being around Stuart’s family. And…it seemed like this might be fun.

If he was going to do this, he wanted to do it right. He knew what he’d made per day on his own summons as a new B-rank Rabbit working overtime for LeafSong.

If Alden had them exhaust their talents for him, he didn’t know how much clothing that would provide, but the minimum fee had to be around what his own had been in February, right?

Over twenty thousand dollars a day, he remembered. Around seven thousand argold. Being an Avowed is still crazy.

They were C-ranks, but there were two of them. And they had experience…

What if I’m way off, and they charge ten times what I’m thinking?

Everyone was waiting so patiently for him to state his budget.

I do have Stuart to fall back on for advice, but having their perspective on human-specific concerns could be great. Let’s do it.

“Is fifteen thousand argold a good starting place?” he asked. “For the one outfit plus whatever else? Or am I way off?”

Two days LeafSong fee. Plus more for materials and a side order of education.

“It’s plenty,” Tuck said easily. “We’ll take care of you today, have time for some finishing work tomorrow morning, and make sure you have everything you need to feel good about the trip on Monday. We might get halfway through an entire wardrobe for you for that amount or just the one outfit. It all depends on your choices.”

“You did say there would be a lot of those.” He was relieved that he’d named an appropriate amount to get the ball rolling and curious to find out what he looked like in clothes made just for him. “I’m into choices these days.”

Not long after that, Gus went to buy everyone lunch, and Yinou left to raid stores for “any little extras” Alden might want to have that didn’t need to be made from scratch. Apparently, everyone knew her, and it was normal for her to go collect things from shops all over the island, bring them here, and then take them back if they didn’t suit her clients’ moods.

While the two of them were gone, Tuck was helping Alden narrow down his style preferences while images of well-dressed men and Artonans walked the entire length of the shop’s back wall, courtesy of a projector drone.

“Don’t think you have to match current Artonan-favored styles to make an outfit a success. If someone wants to wear a kilt or a three-piece suit to the Triplanets, we can make modifications to ensure that comes across the way they want it to. It can even be a conversation starter if the clothes are eye-catching in the right way.”

“An Avowed at LeafSong wore a French maid uniform with a ruffled apron.”

“Something markedly different from anything wizards would likely have seen on other humans, dramatic enough to draw attention and invite questions, associated with serving the wealthy so heavily that even the briefest, laziest attempt to look up the significance of the clothes would lead people to conclude she was hopeful to acquire job offers. She was certainly making an effort.”

Tuck paused, then said. “How do you feel about jobs? Do you want wizards who see you in your new clothes to think you’d welcome their summons?”

“I do not.” Alden wondered if Tuck would comment on that. He didn’t.

“And you liked the red outfit we just saw while you were talking?”

“No, the color reminded me of a coat I bought once. That was a very different shopping experience…by the way, what about the clothes from the Rabbit’s Wardrobe?”

“Wear them for the jobs they’re designed for or because you want to take advantage of the nice little enchantments. Be aware that on their own, they’re very recognizably work clothes to wizards who summon humans and to almost all Anesidorans. If you want to wear them without looking like a Rabbit hoping for a summons or a Ryeh-b’t on a summons, then you’ll need to work on them or use them as an under layer. How do you feel about color?”

“I like indigo blue, like my messenger bag.” Alden jerked his head toward the table covered in fabric samples and boxes. He’d left the bag in a chair over there. “But for clothes, I’m not picky. I don’t usually wear neon. The red coat was uncomfortably red.”

“Yes, that’s not one of your flattering shades. You can wear other reds well, though. Later, we’ll show you how you look in different colors.”

The questions kept coming. Tuck was updating Yinuo while Alden talked. Alden was learning a lot about his own tastes—things he would have known if anyone had ever asked him to think about them, but how often did people ask you to think about this kind of thing?

Until now, growing out of a pair of pants or admitting that his favorite t-shirt was approaching rag status had meant it was time to locate a replacement that fit his body well enough, and fit in with what everyone was wearing at school well enough, without costing too much. No fuss. There were clothes he kind of liked and clothes he didn’t, and he never thought much about it after the decision to wear something had been made unless he realized he looked out of place or he felt physically uncomfortably.

Now, he was thinking about all of it.

He wanted people to think he looked good when he was standing right in front of them having a conversation; he didn’t want them to notice his outfit from across a street.

When questioned about what good meant to him, he had to talk for a few minutes before he found the answer: appropriate for the setting, like he’d made an effort without agonizing, mature but not in a way that sucked life out of his appearance. He liked when other peoples’ clothes had an interesting detail or two that he wouldn’t notice at a casual glance. He disliked conspicuous branding.

“That’s recent,” he told Tuck while runway models stomped across the wall wearing a collection that was going for a hybrid menswear/Artonanwear look. “I never cared enough to pay attention to that kind of thing, but then I found out some Artonans spend a lot of time trying to figure out what we’re telling them with words on clothes. Now I can’t stop reading peoples’ shirts and overanalyzing them.”

He wanted his clothes to be comfortable and easy to move in. He wanted hidden pockets to hide preserved objects in. He wanted to be cool on the Triplanets—temperature-wise.

Gustavo heard that as he came through the door with their lunches. “We all want that!”

“Being cool in that way isn’t always doable, especially not on short notice or in every destination. But we try,” said Tuck. “Keep going.”

He didn’t like loud patterns on himself. He thought he was probably in the early stages of developing a taste for magic jewelry. Every time he saw the green nonagon ring on his finger, he liked the look of it more and more. He didn’t mention his auriad, obviously, but it was a contributing factor. When checking out wizards’ stacks of rings and bracelets, he usually liked the wooden pieces best.

He was glad to hear that there were plenty of outfits he could wear that would be great on both worlds; he’d probably need to start taking advantage of that if he got summoned frequently. But when he had control over the situation, and his trips were planned, he would prefer a bifurcated wardrobe. Dedicated clothes for journeys to the Artonas.

Once he made that decision, the fashion examples being projected onto the wall shifted to be even more Triplanetary.

Robes looked so comfortable, but Alden preferred pants. He liked that vest the Artonan walking through the park was wearing; it reminded him of one included in Stuart’s belated message full of clothing examples. He liked most of those tunics except for the way they flared at the bottoms. He hated the necklines that made peoples’ heads look like they were emerging from the top of a cabbage. Turtlenecks were fine.

And, despite having shared several opinions that should render them unacceptable, he had a soft spot for Hawaiian shirts.

“All right,” said Tuck, stylus lifting from the tablet he’d been sketching on for a while. “Let’s try some things on you.”

 

******

 

The dressing room had a pair of cushiony chairs and a beverage fridge full of three different kinds of water. The mirror showed Alden alternating views of his front, sides, and back while he stripped down to his underwear and re-dressed in a large jumpsuit that was made of numerous gray fabric strips in widths that ranged from vermicelli to linguini. Sympathy for Magic made him want to stare at it for a little too long.

There was a knock on the door. “Would you rather do it back here or out front?” Tuck’s voice called.

“Here is fine,” Alden called back. He was trying to be convenient, which turned out to be his first mistake of the day. When Tuck opened the door a minute later, he was carrying armfuls of the fabric swatches.

He had to move them all for me.

Gus poked his head around the door. “Do you want me to go help Yinuo empty the shoe stores? Or do you want me here?”

“If you don’t mind, a third opinion here would be awesome. But since you’ve introduced me to this whole thing now, I’m fine whenever you need to go.”

“<<Good!>> I don’t want to go. This is the fun part.” He pointed at Alden. “No giving up when the tickling starts. Straight face. You represent The Warren.”

Alden looked down at the jumpsuit. “It’s going to tickle?”

“Not that bad,” said Tuck, hanging his own coat on a peg by the door and taking a seat in one of the chairs. “If you think of anything at all you want to try out, just say so. I’ll let you know when we’re about a third of the way through your try-ons. That’s when we really need to start narrowing to make sure you’ve got an outfit ready for Monday. We can play around and make some more things for you once that’s sorted. Pardon the goggles.”

He put the steampunky goggles on his face and became considerably quirkier looking. “These help me see if any of the strands are damaged. It’s so annoying for a fit to be off by a millimeter because one of them decided not to join the party. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.” Alden turned back to the mirror and held his arms out slightly. He was curious to see the jumpsuit work. The effect it would have had been described, but he couldn’t quite believe it would be as fully realistic as promised.

“Look at him holding nice and still with his arms out!” Gus said, sounding thrilled about it as he took his own seat.

“Everyone stands that way the first time.” Tuck was looking from his tablet full of sketches and references to Alden and back again. “I think it’s the natural starting position for a man getting his first magical fitting. Let’s make it a good one. Outfit One. Jatontan tunic—mid-thigh length, side split up to the hip. High-necked tank for an under layer with this one. Pants— straight legged, minimal volume.”

He pointed at Alden while he spoke. Or, more accurately, at the jumpsuit, which started moving all over like every individual strand had a mind of its own. Alden saw his own expression of astonishment in the mirror. The strands slithered around one another and around him, forming the clothes as Tuck envisioned them and tickling like crazy, but in such a swift, unpredictable variety of spots that he just stood there unsure of which direction he wanted to flinch in.

Outfitter—one of Tuck’s skills.

It would, according to him, “do things” to miscellaneous fabric strips, but it was designed to work with this special product for this specific purpose. When Alden decided he liked something enough to buy it, Tuck would “set” it into the suit with the skill. Alden would take it off, and Tuck would carry the linguini to the room where the clothes-making actually happened. It would separate into the pieces he needed for a two-dimensional pattern.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

After the pattern was made, he’d return to Alden with the jumpsuit for whatever else they had time to design. Yinuo would be turning the pattern into clothes with her own skills. Some details would be added. And then they’d have final fittings and adjustments just to make sure nothing was amiss.

Alden watched the clothes make themselves around him.

“You guys!” he said as the strands crawled up his neck. “This is so cool!”

There were now multiple pieces where before there had been a single suit.

“It’s instant clothes! Do you see this, Gus?”

Gus was laughing.

“There,” said Tuck, lowering the finger he’d been pointing. “That’s a starting place. Walk around. Take a good look at yourself. If you like the concept enough we’ll keep refining it. If not, we’ll try something new. If you’re not sure, we’ll work on it a little and then we can take a few pictures for you to come back to later.”

“I can walk around?”

“You can walk around,” he confirmed. “Even while I’m making adjustments if you want. Whatever you feel like seeing, just say the word. I’ll tell you if I think it’s a bad idea, but you’re the boss. And experimentation is encouraged.”

Alden looked at himself. The pieces were gray, and some of the details had to be imagined for now. But it was undeniably a set of clothes that had sprung into being because he said he thought he might like to see himself in something similar.

“It even fits right,” he said in awe.

“Oh no it doesn’t,” said Tuck, rising from his seat. “It fits well enough for you to get the idea.”

“Really?” Alden checked out his profile. “It seems pretty good.”

“The difference between pretty good and perfect when it comes to clothes is the centimeter that looks like a kilometer.” He stood behind Alden. “Want me to show you the difference?”

“Sure.”

The outfit started to slither again, just a little.

“You have shoulders that don’t want to be done a disservice with a misplaced seam.”

The tunic’s shoulders shifted minutely. Alden hadn’t moved, but he had the impression that his posture had improved. His brows lifted.

“You have a waist that can be respected even if the outfit isn’t formfitting.”