Dungeon Item Shop - Chapter 34(2/2): Woven

The vivid sunlight shining in through the large windows inside of the store silhouettes the many dolls and mannequins adorning the space, all of them wearing all manner of cloth outfits that Range from simple dresses to ornate robes to plain trousers and button-ups. The air inside of the store is surprisingly cool and, while not damp, certainly on the edge of being called so. Fresh looks around the room, somewhat nervously, her joy from a second ago subdued by the two dozen odd human-like figures that fill the room, facing all manner of direction as if mimicking the busy crowd outside on the plaza. Some standing as if talking to each other. Others alone in the distance, leaned against the walls like wallflowers.

A strange smell of a sweet smoke fills the air, like slowly burnt wood from a cherry tree. Her boots thud out against the thick, red, decorative carpet beneath her as she walks up to the counter that nobody sits behind.

“Hello?” asks Fresh, looking around and then back to the note in her hand. This was the right place, she assumed at least. Feeling a little antsy, the girl fidgets and looks around herself, back to the mannequins who she now notices all have one thing in common. A single, whisper red string spans from each of them off to the next. A single thread that ties them all together, looping only once around each figure in a hidden place. Wrapping around their wrists just beneath the cuffs of the sleeves, over their throats just below scarves and wraps that bury it, as if to hide it from sight.

The girl scratches her cheek nervously looking at them, one in particular stood by the window and faced to look outside, towards the shining day being born anew.

“I’ll be there in a second!” Calls a voice from the back of the store, coming through a small curtained doorway behind the counter. Fresh’s gaze turns towards it and she sighs a breath of relief. Apparently someone is here after all. A figure comes out from behind the curtain. Fresh cranes her neck to look up at them, feeling her legs get a little wobbly and her sense of relief leaving her immediately. The figure is extremely tall and, plainly put, rather ominous in their appearance. Their androgynous face pale and indistinct, though Fresh leans towards guessing that the person is a man. A ghostly man, but a man. His limbs are long and spindly like the legs of a spider. They wear a long, gray, slim-fitted outfit. Pressed into their lips is a long wooden straw, at the end of which something burns. A cigarette? No. But something akin to it thinks the girl.

“H-hello,” she says nervously and holds out the slip of paper to them.

The ghostly person takes the note from her and looks at it. “Ah, yes. Hold on. We just finished this one last night,“ he says, taking a draw of his pipe. The man vanishes into the back and the girl wonders what he means by ‘we’. Looking around, she sees nobody but herself and…

Fresh’s eyes narrow as she looks at the mannequins. Weren’t they all facing a different direction just a moment ago…?

“Here we are,” calls a voice out from in front of her and her head snaps back forward. “As agreed, we processed your boss core into this.” The man holds out a black cloth bundle and Fresh takes it from him, looking it over as it unravels in her hands with sparkling eyes.

[Plant Fiber Robe] (Black)

A robe woven out of plant fibres from a giant pink flower. Offers little physical protection, but is sturdy and comfortable.

+2 Poison resistance

+2 Lightning resistance

(The springtide pink threads of this robe have been dyed a deep black.)

 It’s a robe, this one with actual shoulders and sleeves. A cheerful cry escapes her closed mouth as she looks at it in delight. The material is soft, but feels sturdy and airy. Was this made out of her boss drop, whatever that was? She’s not sure. Though judging by the name and description, she comes back around and assumes it is.

The man speaks. “Despite my protests, we opted to make the fabric black, as requested by the customer, so that, I quote -” The man looks over a ledger and clears his throat once, as he recites what is written on the page. “She can get her fat hands dirty and pull some fucking weight, without being a constant embarrassment to me, because she’s covered in shit,” The man lowers the ledger and Fresh looks at him uneasily. “- End quote.”

She laughs meekly. That certainly sounded like something Jubilee would say. “Do I owe you anything?” she asks the man nervously.

The strange man looks back to her curiously and waves a hand. “No, as per our agreement, we took twenty percent of the boss core as our fee.”

Fresh has no idea what that means, but nods to the man. “Can I try it on?” She asks eagerly, not that she was ever really big on clothes. But after a week in the same dress, the prospect of something new is more than exciting to her.

The man points to the side, to a curtained stall. “You may. But the measurements are correct. We’re certain, we checked again when you came inside.”

She stares at him blankly for a second, not sure what he means. She never gave anyone her measurements, not that she even knew what they were to begin with. Pushing that aside for now, she goes to the cabin and pulls the curtain shut to change, sighing as she escapes the creepy man and the feeling of being watched for just a second.

With some relief, she takes the old dress off and works her way into the new one, taking a second to look at her body that she now notices is covered in bruises, scuffs and sore spots. But if that’s the only price of admission for this new life, then as far as she sees it, she’s still in the clear. With a smile, the girl works her way into the new dress, setting the old one down to the side.

It’s a stark contrast to the white she had had on this entire time. But she likes it. In her old life, she only ever wore black hoodies and sweatpants. Though in a sense, maybe that’s why she liked the white dress too. Sort of. It was so radically different from her comfort zone that she was forced to adapt to it. But… -

She rolls her shoulders and straightens the fabric there, pulling it taut. The robe fits perfectly. She looks down at herself.

- …But it seems befitting of a witch. Plus the white dress did get dirty very easily. This color would be good, she thinks, especially if she does a lot of dirty potion-work and crafting. Or if she’s being dragged through the dungeon by Jubilee. Besides, she grabs her collar, straightening the rim and pulling tightly on the little red ribbon that adorns the front. This was different too. She would have never worn something like this before.

Looking up, she stares at a foggy mirror in front of herself and looks herself once over.

“Bubble bubble…” says the girl, not too sure why. But it just seemed like the right thing to say when she saw the witch in the mirror. Her smile grows wider.

With that bright expression, she exits the cabin and spins around once proudly to show the ghostly man. But once she opens her eyes, she sees that he is already gone. Perhaps he was so confident in his trade, that he had already vanished into the back room, knowing that the dress would be perfect. Fresh rubs the back of her head, but then shrugs to herself. It is what it is.

She looks around, still somewhat uneasily now though. With a quiet ‘Hmm’, she packs her white dress into her bag and goes to leave.

The girl’s hand clutches the door and pulls it open, though her head turns one last time to spare a glance back inside of the tailor’s workshop and she sees two dozen mannequins all turned her way, all of them have a single hand up in the air as if to wave goodbye. All bound by a single red string.

Fresh screams and runs out into the sunlight, slamming the door tightly shut behind herself.