[FELID_FACTOR]

[skinstealer]

4/11/316- Remmy

The subway is crowded as ever, but Remmy is used to that much. He might have been the only passenger to get picked up at his stop, but by the time he got close to the city, even the TCP sections of the cars were starting to get packed. He holds onto his strap, making sure to avoid hitting the adjustment button. He’d made that mistake too many times on his first few rides in on this train, the ones he was used to using a completely different system, even though they went to the same city…

His thoughts trail off as one of the narrow wall screens turns to a news report, and it’s nothing especially new- reporters talking about the Whimsy border and falling temperatures, with some reported snowstorms coming in soon...in the middle of spring, in Wonder of all places. It wasn’t out of the ordinary here on the border, but it was still weird...nothing compared to what was happening in Whimsy itself, though. The reporter’s going on about the refugees insisting on living on the edges now, using Wonder’s high tech settlements to brave the harsh conditions while it’s still...halfway here, is the phrase Remmy’s heard people use. He sees a bear type shake their head at the screen, mumbling something about people with no sense. Someone nods at their comment and Remmy keeps quiet, not wanting to volunteer his own opinion.

If something’s worth staying to them, it’s their choice, after all…

Punching into work is familiar as ever, even if the ride in is still new. Remmy gives a wave to all of the faces he’s grown to know over the two years he’s worked for this company as he heads to his work station, sighing as he sees a work order already pinned to his corkboard. It’s another quilted coat, but he expected as much- he’s a quilt type, after all, and he was hired for his ability. It’s what he can get done quickly and he provides a specialty item for their menu...and a best seller at that. Besides, with all the cold weather happening lately, people need the warmth, and he supposes he doesn’t mind helping someone out with that...even if it’s at a bit of an inflated price. 

He starts rolling out his pattern paper, minding the measurements on his work order. Looks like a body type client, but that’s not a problem for him. Some of the smaller workers struggle with the larger TCP orders solo, but he’s capable of taking almost anything on thanks to his size. The sleeves, though, that’s where this coat’s real price hike comes in...this TCP had huge hands, and the sheer amount of fabric needed was going to drain him hard. Just as a bit of dread sets in over it, a small, BJD type TCP passes by, peeking over his desk as best as she can. 
 

????: Reeeemmy. Remmy.
REMMY: Heeey, Peg...got a big order today, I can’t talk much…
PEG: I can see that. Is that the body?
REMMY: Sleeve, actually. 
PEG: Whoof.
REMMY: Yeah…
PEG: And you have to do two of those?
REMMY: Four, with cuffs.
PEG: Goood luck, my guy.
REMMY: Thanks...I’ll handle it, it’s not the worst.
PEG: Just remember to hit up the bar and get yourself some sandwiches or something. Claire doesn’t want you passing out again.
REMMY: That was one time.
PEG: Yeah, and no one could carry you to the hospital. 
REMMY: …
PEG: You’re huge, dude. It doesn’t work.

  
Remmy sighs, re-measuring his pattern piece carefully before flattening out any creases with his hands, running his palms along it as he uses his ability, turning it into a flat, white, quilt. It had taken years of self-taught practice and ability training to manipulate where colors and shapes showed up, not to mention making them suitable for clothing pieces…
 

PEG: Not bad.
REMMY: Peg, I appreciate the company, I really do, but-
PEG: I get it, I get it.
REMMY: ...Sorry.

  
There’s a moment of silence, but Peg doesn’t leave, lingering just a bit. Her ability’s putting all kinds of fashion ideas in Remmy’s head, something he always used to enjoy back when they hung out more...but now it just makes him feel this sense of bittersweetness, and it doesn’t feel particularly good right now.
 

PEG: You doing okay out there on your own?
PEG: I mean, it’s not like you went out partying like the rest of us, you always stuck around on your computer anyway-
REMMY: Yeah. It’s a nice place.
REMMY: It’s quiet! I like quiet.
PEG: Well...we miss you out here.
PEG: Not quite the same without our gentle giant.

  
He unrolls another sheet of paper and starts cutting, working on the next sleeve. He dreads what he’s about to say next, but he feels like he has to say it, he owes her at least that much, after everything.
 

REMMY: ...I’ll come visit sometime.

 
She lights right up.
 

PEG: Really?
REMMY: Yeah.
PEG: You promise?

 
God.

He forces the lightest voice he can manage.
 

REMMY: Yep! As soon as I figure out transportation a little better and find the time.
REMMY: We can figure out dinner or something.

 
Peg almost goes to punch him in the arm before realizing he’s holding a craft knife, and thinks better of it. 
 

PEG: Awesome, man!
PEG: Shit, I better run off before Claire finds out I’m slacking.
PEG: But that’s the best, dude. You’re the best.
PEG: We really miss you. This is gonna rule. Seriously-
REMMY: Peg.
PEG: Right, right. Going now.

  
He waits until she’s finally out of view before letting his shoulders sag under his quilted body, taking a minute to compose himself before running his hands along the paper piece and transforming it to match the other.
 

---

He almost can’t find his keycard when he gets home, nearly panicking before finding it in his back pocket- why does he keep anything back there?! His entire body aches from using his ability as much as he did, but he got his quota for the coat done today in record time, even better than his last shift...there was still a good bit to do, and sewing still needed to happen, but no company could boast a quilted coat made as fast as they could, and not at such immaculate quality. 
  

REMMY: ...I’m home.

  
He says it to no one in particular, a force of habit from his last living place, back when he had roommates. It was a running joke, considering they all came home at the same time, and came from the same place, but they would always greet each other the second they came in the door. Now he just says it to himself, and that’s that.

He tries not to think about Peg’s comment as he makes his way to his desk, settling in at his computer. [CRITTER_CATCHER] and [TRICKSTERS_COCKTAIL] are both offline on MessiRoom, but- if he had a heart, it would have dropped into his stomach. Oh my god, he actually has a message from her. Her.
 

[DOLLHOUSE_DRESSUP]: I’m contacting you in response to your comment on my thread looking for collaborative opportunities, especially in regards to needing help with traditional Whimsy fashion.
[DOLLHOUSE_DRESSUP]: I looked through the portfolio you sent and your samples are good. Really good.
[DOLLHOUSE_DRESSUP]: Your quality is immaculate, but my one critique is that you seem almost…/too/ professional. My clients want a handmade touch to their work, and I get a sense that you work for a corporation. Am I off base?

 
Oh god, she’s online. His hands are shaking as he goes to type a response, and he has to correct himself at least three times to avoid typos.
 

[REMNANT_TREASURES]: yes, my portfolio is from work i do with a company. it’s not a corporation but it is a major manufacturer and not my own business
[DOLLHOUSE_DRESSUP]: Do you have creative control over your creations?
[REMNANT_TREASURES]: i get to make them with my ability versus any of their practices and choose my own techniques
[DOLLHOUSE_DRESSUP]: But do you get to control the /designs/?
[REMNANT_TREASURES]: ...no. they’re company designs, i just make them according to the patterns.
[DOLLHOUSE_DRESSUP]: Do you want to do your own work, for me?

 
He’s frozen, unable to respond. He can’t believe what he’s hearing, and time’s stopped.
  

[DOLLHOUSE_DRESSUP]: Hello?
[DOLLHOUSE_DRESSUP]: Are you alright?
[REMNANT_TREASURES]: god, yes.
[DOLLHOUSE_DRESSUP]: Then let’s work out a deal.