TigerShopping (Part 1 of 1)
May. 1st, 2018 07:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
we_are_spcThank you to bairnsidhe for allowing me the use of Nzinga from Undercover Fashion Also: Thank you to ysabetwordsmith for minor ideas on clothing, for small, still growing, shifter children.
::Set Mainly in Ms. Martin's shop. No spoilers unless slightly (And I do mean slight) child distress bothers you.::
There was the thud, then the tiny laughter, though it was a bit shaky, like the poor child had been crying just recently. Nzinga wondered who it could be; there were very few who traveled her portal just after she’d opened; she usually had at least a few minutes before customers came. She recognized him, if only from the holo he’d sent, as he walked-no, padded- to the door, where a child of about three or four climbed from his back before he shifted-and made her blink. It wasn’t often she saw shifters, and this one was formidable in both his human *and* tiger forms.
He picked up the now nervous child with gentleness. she could tell there was steel in him, and the look of having lived on the streets for a very long time.
“Ya got anything I can…” He broke off as he opened the door, and tried again, “Mornin’ miss.”
She smirked a bit, “Anything for what? And good mornin’ BJ. I take it she’s still going through clothes?”
The little girl had wriggled down, momentarily burying her face in her daddy in embarrassment. She was still on the edge of crying, and hated being like this. Where she felt stupid for getting naked at the wrong time, and getting teased for it. She was toddling around to look at the pretties in the case, and staring at the beads. She was careful not to touch the glass, but Nzinga was intrigued by her fascination.
“Can you make things?” She looked to the child with a bit of curiosity, and a bit of a smile.
“Uh huh!” The little girl bounced, “Hair thangs and pins and stuff. I can make clothes, too, but dey take a really really long time!" She grimaced, “I like it, but I take days.”
BJ laughed, “Ask huh nice Tamya, an’ she might give ya things to play with-work with.”
Nzinga unlocked the case, waiting for Tamya to ask.
“What do you think you can use?” She drew the child’s eyes to a colorful string of tiny glass beads, and a few lace bits she thought the child might like, and was pleased when she picked them, another looped strand, and a few lacy ribbons, then went to work at a table, glancing at some of the other bits as she sat, pulling two slightly curved combs from a pocket Nzinga didn’t realize she’d had till then. She watched the little girl start to attach-it looked like a similar ability to hers-the strands to the combs. But then she realized that she was just making them stick really well with the magic. Not actually *changing* reality. She wondered, as she began conversing with BJ, how long the child had been working with that ability; she seemed rather adept for her age at it; but that would be something she might never know; it all depended on how often this one came back to see her.
“OK now.” She stood back, “You’re going to have to figure out some other way to do this. That child’s only going to grow, and her shifting, if not controlled, will wreak havoc on not *just* her clothes.”
“We workin’ on it-it when she sleeps…” Jay sighs, “She got nightmares, and she wake up an’ shift, an everythang done fo.”
Nzinga new *that* all too well. They discussed a few ideas, and came up with a few outfits with Velcro at the waist, and break away snaps down the sides, and some wrap around shirts that would untie themselves when she started to shift, or at least not be as bad to fix.
She went to the back as BJ allowed Tamya to pick the colors and materials she wanted, fixing, one inch at a time, the power familiar to her, the tears in the clothes-nice silk; she began to wonder where he’d gotten them, she’d like to buy some-he’d given her.
“That,” she said as they concluded the transaction, “Was fun.”
BJ grinned, “Heah, Tamya, please.”
Tamya folded up her nearly finished piece, coming to stand alongside her daddy. They left, he shifting to tiger, she giggling. That was the last sound she heard as she prepared herself for the rest of her day.
BJ is the name Jay usually goes by for outside communications to venders. That is until he knows if he will stick; then he lets out the other.
Tamya's name is pronounced Tamaya. She is very good at what she does for a four year old; about a 3 if we were using sockmonkey terms. By the time she is five she will rank at a four simply because, while she is still a child who plays; she will absently pick up something she is working on during her down times, and next thing she knows she has finished the piece.
bairnsidhe for allowing me the use of Nzinga from Undercover Fashion Also: Thank you to ysabetwordsmith for minor ideas on clothing, for small, still growing, shifter children.::Set Mainly in Ms. Martin's shop. No spoilers unless slightly (And I do mean slight) child distress bothers you.::
There was the thud, then the tiny laughter, though it was a bit shaky, like the poor child had been crying just recently. Nzinga wondered who it could be; there were very few who traveled her portal just after she’d opened; she usually had at least a few minutes before customers came. She recognized him, if only from the holo he’d sent, as he walked-no, padded- to the door, where a child of about three or four climbed from his back before he shifted-and made her blink. It wasn’t often she saw shifters, and this one was formidable in both his human *and* tiger forms.
He picked up the now nervous child with gentleness. she could tell there was steel in him, and the look of having lived on the streets for a very long time.
“Ya got anything I can…” He broke off as he opened the door, and tried again, “Mornin’ miss.”
She smirked a bit, “Anything for what? And good mornin’ BJ. I take it she’s still going through clothes?”
The little girl had wriggled down, momentarily burying her face in her daddy in embarrassment. She was still on the edge of crying, and hated being like this. Where she felt stupid for getting naked at the wrong time, and getting teased for it. She was toddling around to look at the pretties in the case, and staring at the beads. She was careful not to touch the glass, but Nzinga was intrigued by her fascination.
“Can you make things?” She looked to the child with a bit of curiosity, and a bit of a smile.
“Uh huh!” The little girl bounced, “Hair thangs and pins and stuff. I can make clothes, too, but dey take a really really long time!" She grimaced, “I like it, but I take days.”
BJ laughed, “Ask huh nice Tamya, an’ she might give ya things to play with-work with.”
Nzinga unlocked the case, waiting for Tamya to ask.
“What do you think you can use?” She drew the child’s eyes to a colorful string of tiny glass beads, and a few lace bits she thought the child might like, and was pleased when she picked them, another looped strand, and a few lacy ribbons, then went to work at a table, glancing at some of the other bits as she sat, pulling two slightly curved combs from a pocket Nzinga didn’t realize she’d had till then. She watched the little girl start to attach-it looked like a similar ability to hers-the strands to the combs. But then she realized that she was just making them stick really well with the magic. Not actually *changing* reality. She wondered, as she began conversing with BJ, how long the child had been working with that ability; she seemed rather adept for her age at it; but that would be something she might never know; it all depended on how often this one came back to see her.
“OK now.” She stood back, “You’re going to have to figure out some other way to do this. That child’s only going to grow, and her shifting, if not controlled, will wreak havoc on not *just* her clothes.”
“We workin’ on it-it when she sleeps…” Jay sighs, “She got nightmares, and she wake up an’ shift, an everythang done fo.”
Nzinga new *that* all too well. They discussed a few ideas, and came up with a few outfits with Velcro at the waist, and break away snaps down the sides, and some wrap around shirts that would untie themselves when she started to shift, or at least not be as bad to fix.
She went to the back as BJ allowed Tamya to pick the colors and materials she wanted, fixing, one inch at a time, the power familiar to her, the tears in the clothes-nice silk; she began to wonder where he’d gotten them, she’d like to buy some-he’d given her.
“That,” she said as they concluded the transaction, “Was fun.”
BJ grinned, “Heah, Tamya, please.”
Tamya folded up her nearly finished piece, coming to stand alongside her daddy. They left, he shifting to tiger, she giggling. That was the last sound she heard as she prepared herself for the rest of her day.
BJ is the name Jay usually goes by for outside communications to venders. That is until he knows if he will stick; then he lets out the other.
Tamya's name is pronounced Tamaya. She is very good at what she does for a four year old; about a 3 if we were using sockmonkey terms. By the time she is five she will rank at a four simply because, while she is still a child who plays; she will absently pick up something she is working on during her down times, and next thing she knows she has finished the piece.
