Caruso

Caruso's POV

The life of a tailor is always quite good. One always needs clothes so I have no trouble exchanging for goods that I need. Over the years I've become quite good at what I do so I get my work done rather quick. I even seem to have become decently famous so noblemen patron my shop for their mistresses on occasion. I have gotten an offer once to be the tailor of a lady once but that was short lived as soon as she met me I was turned away I didn't match her aesthetic. I apparently didn't look strong enough.

I am currently in the back of my shop waiting for the local boy Jack to come back. While I don't necessarily need the boy around I've gotten used to him helping me with all my trivial matters, so much so I really don't want to do them myself. He always used to just turn up but recently he's been gone for quite some time. Others are also talking him being gone so we are all beginning to get a bit worried about him.

While lost in my thoughts I hear the bell from my shop. I put down my sewing and go over quickly stopping just before I come out to compose myself lest I embarrass myself in front of a distinguished guest. I come out and see Jack.

"Jack? I didn't expect you to show back up in this way. Is there a reason you rung my bell. You know I leave that for nobles and the like."

"Yeah I'm here with someone, just speaking on their behalf. Y'know me organizing what they need helpin' sell their things."

"So what do have you to sell" It is then that I see Sir Logan, ever obvious in his black panther form.

"We'll need some measurements taken and as much clothes as you can for the furs you want, and we do have a good amount. Shoes are a definite."

"Measurements. Then I assume your not referring to Sir Logan their then you are referring to . . ." When I look over at the hooded figure I can immediately tell that the cloak was not made to fit them. It certainly does them no justice. Though I suppose that hiding what they do and don't have is a prime purpose of a cloak. I see a hand pop out and am surprised to see that it is more like my own than those that I'm used to seeing. Most who come have calloused or especially muscular hands, often times both. These seem even more supple than mine and I do no hard labor.

The small hand tugs on Jack and I see him look over before introducing us. "Allow me to introduce. Caruso this is Aila, she is the one to be measured for clothes. Aila this is Caruso the tailor"

At first I'm just taken aback by the name, that is until I realize that Jack is projecting his thought to this Aila. If he has to project his thoughts that can only mean one thing.

"Caruso, It is nice to meet you" She nods her head at me while being polite.

"Jack. . . It this . . "I look at him.

"A very nice lady." I must be obvious I hadn't even finished my question.

I look back over to the lady "Ah the pleasure is all mine, please do come this way"

I shall use my receiving room then. Leading the way I show Aila to my side room. "Aila dear, I need to get your measurements so if you please do remove your cloak." She is very cooperative and does so immediately so I show her where I'd prefer it. "You can place it here"

She has no problems with me instructing her and I take a breath of relief. I generally dislike taking measurements since so many toss their things around or think I'm ordering them around. They can become rather rude and the whole process becomes tiresome.

"Now I would like for you to stand right here with one foot here... and the other here.." Once I have her in place I begin "May I"

"Go ahead" I bring my string along her. She wears no shoes but feet are all the same so it should be no problem to make some. I then move to her legs noting the strange pattern on her bottoms. The green lines and blue. Colorful is not unusual for those like herself, the truly strange thing is the pattern. The way it crosses over in a grid could be done through weaving but the fabric is so thin, and their are no string lines marking the difference.

As I make my way up to her back I notice how much curvature she has. I haven't had to make clothes to account for this before. I haven't been touching her but her top is very loose, so I'm not even sure what shape her figure takes. The only other woman I'd seen went around wearing almost nothing and had much less curves.

Once I have the measurements for her shoulders and arms I'm at a loss. I look at her from the side to see she has very pronounced curves. Thus when she asks "What seems to be the problem?"

I simply blurt "It's just that I need to measure . . .this area" and gesture when words fail me.

I pause, sure I was in trouble with her only to hear a laugh. I look up and see the smile on her face. She seems like such a kind soul. " I'm gonna need you to be a little clearer about what it is you need."

She continues to smile as I compose myself. "Oh I have never made clothes to fit someone who had curves like yours and I've been trying to avoid touching you when I can. Your figure itself is obscured to me by the loose garments that your wearing."

"Hmm, seems innocent enough of an issue; but how do you plan to solve this"